me old Nana

Amy Shippen was from Yorkshire, trained as a milliner by age 10, her da (my great gramps) was a master stonemason, who did the stone facing on at least 2 provincial legislatures (manitoba n sask) as well as the still cool-looking Hudson Bay bldg. in Winterpeg. Anyway Amy came over to Canada after her da had a steady livin, and she married my rounder gramps Jack, who was a hard drinkin Scot who put in a whole lot of telephone poles n wired em, with a horse, a come-along, and a lot of sweat.
The tale: Nana (Amy) was staying at our house, 1975, had just seen some news item about dangerous bikers, and who pulls into the driveway but my fave cuz Art, on a 250 Hodaka with a straight pipe. Loud as fuck. She ran around the house pulling curtains and locking doors. He was 20, had a chick on the back, just back from a party weekend looking for my brother. Or maybe girlfriend just needed to pee.
I respect my ancestors, I still have a few floatin around to advise me, but I understand being afraid of grizzlies eatin your stock more than some kid on a noisy bike.
She always was big on manners, Nana, I think I learned a few from her. And I like a nice hat.