Horny grannies, porn(y) grannies, sexy grannies, demented leather clad grannies; the Googling world is full of people who, like Johnny Lee, are ‘looking for love in all the wrong places’. The previously described have even visited this Granny who has been seriously, but vainly, also seeking out her own kind. I call these people Pervs. I capitalise the name and honour them with a proper noun. There are so many of them trawling the Internet that I suspect that Pervs must be an ancient and mighty race who have come to light only now that they have access to electronic media.
Like the Scarlet Pimpernel, I’ve also been looking here, there and everywhere for some sugar. I typed a search term for nurturing grannies recently. I came up with a comment by a fellow blogger who mentions a BBC news item about ‘grannies knitting woolie boobies for the National Health Service to help women who breastfeed learn how to hand express milk’. She said the article made her smile. The idea of breastfeeding women needing booby cosies, or it being an issue that needed to be written about made me scratch my head in wonder. This blogger turned out to be a nurturing career mama so I didn’t find her blog helpful for my purposes. I append her URL here but alas for those career mamas out there she stopped blogging last year. (http://nurturingcareermama.wordpress.com/2010/06/09/who-says-knitting-has-to-be-boringgrannies-knit-woolie-boobs).
I asked Google to search out clever grannies and found that the best of a mangy offering is about crocheting grannies on Pinterest. Talk about stereotyping. That’s not us in the 21st Century. We are grannies, hear us snore, err, I mean roar. Anyhow, I’ve done my share of crocheting blankets and booties and cunning little outfits. I don’t want a crafting blog.
The Internet shelters the good, the bad and the downright ugly, and Google who is her helpmeet is like that little girl in the nursery rhyme with the curl in the middle of her forehead. I’m sure that if you hang around long enough sooner or later anything can and will come knocking on your internet door. I’ve been waiting for over a year but mostly it’s the Pervs that are hiking up my statistics. I don’t know what they make of my little blog, they certainly never comment. But I suspect that they are not impressed. I don’t provide titillating images of whips or bee stung lips or any other images for that matter. And no purple prose. Needless to say, the Pervs don’t linger long.
There’s a welcome mat and a guest room for a kind, caring and most importantly interesting gran who wants to set a spell and has wisdom to dispense. At the very least I’ve been hoping for Grannies who will share their life experiences. (Because of course wrinkles don’t necessarily make grannies wise.)
There have been no nibbles, so although I plan to keep up the granny articles, I’ve been expanding my brief. I talk about footballer’s beards these days, put my own stamp on daily prompts and have even made an attempt at limericks (failing dismally). There are all sorts of odds and sods on offer on my site, so maybe the way to redirect the visiting Pervs is to change my Granny logo. I’m open to suggestions.