A different kind of sting

My paternal grandmother was a formidable woman who had worked through the Second World War as a nurse. After the war, she lived in a small fishing village in the north of Scotland and raised a family of five, including my dad. 

When we were little, my sister and I used to love going to stay by ourselves with her for two weeks every summer, as we loved the countryside, the fresh air and, most of all, we adored Granny. 

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