So this is the first of many stories that my Granddad used to tell me and my cousins as we grew up. And they are all, apparently, his own experiences. I only realised that it wasn’t actually my granddad when I was in my teen years. I think this is where my interest in stories came from and thus where I got my imaginative brain from as my family is very creative but I am the only one from my generation that has followed that love of the imagined word and as far as I know the only one that writes. 

My granddad is very special to me. He's such a typical older generation granddad who doesn’t give a damn about anything anymore, he can basically do whatever he wants. He smokes and drinks tea and fussy with food. If he doesn’t like it then he won’t eat it basically. 

On a sadder note my grandma passed away last June very suddenly and so I wanted to get these stories down on paper even more. She was the head of the family and so it took me a while to write it down, so these stories are for her. 

And I'd love for my taid to see them in print. 

Hope you enjoy them as much as I do! 

Elena XD