Perhaps

“Granny was prematurely aged and looked one hundred when I saw her for the last time in 1957. Yet, she was only seventy four. She had exceptionally wrinkled skin, was small and very bent, had no teeth behind a cheeky grin, suffered from bad cataracts that made her eyes a smoky grey, was deaf and had severe arthritis that crippled her little hands and feet. Those small feet had been malformed by large bunions that protruded from the holes cut in the maroon and blue ‘Knights’ slippers she always wore. In all seasons she wore a tea-cosy style hat crocheted for her by Mrs Lamb in grey and pink wool and she always wore an apron over her work clothes. In the pocket of her apron Granny carried a hanky and the seeds harvested from plants in her garden. She would then store the seeds in a dish that lived on the old dresser until the promise of spring manifested itself and she would scatter the seed to all corners of her garden that included the vacant block next door. How delightful it was to wander through the maze of cottage garden favourites from tiny Alyssum to Hollyhocks taller than I was”.