Confessions of a Grandma

My mother was born on September 30, 1913.  She died just about two months shy of her 92nd birthday in 2005.  When she had just turned 80, she announced that she would not live much longer, saying that her brain was programmed to last for 75 years so her body must surely soon follow.  This was a statement quite prescient of the dementia that would soon enough become evident to everyone else.  She cancelled her long standing subscription to Home and Garden Magazine , writing to them that she did not expect to be alive long enough to take advantage of another full year.  She showed me the dress she would like to be dressed in for the funeral. When she failed to kick the bucket in her 80th year, she decided she was meant to see in the next century.  When Y2K came and went, she decided she must have been meant to reach the 100 year old mark.  Her mental decline was rapid and fierce after that, though. At the point where we just could no longer maintain h...

 We try to keep a clean and tidy house.  This plan is facilitated by the fact that we no longer have a.) children living with us; b.) cats, dogs, or other pets; c.) jobs that keep us too tired to care about an accumulation of dust and other grime. Add to that the fact that we are two mildly obsessive-compulsive organizing types, and you'd think that one could eat off the floor on any given day or check for a poppy seed between teeth in the reflection from the polished coffee table. Well, that certainly is NOT the case at all.  And then, too, one of us is a collector with an impressive amount of stuff that he does not like the other one of us to dust for fear she will break something.  Still, those TV shows of a few years ago--the ones where a professional organizer came in to help the homeowners get a handle on the garage, or make a home office more efficient, or a family room more functional--they really kind of made me twitch.  The shows that were on th...

Got tomatoes?  How about tomato sauce? The tomatoes I planted this year were called "Big Girls."  They were kind of late to ripen, but they certainly live up to the "big" in their name.  Four or five tomatoes filled up this whole pot and, since they are also meaty, I ended up with another lovely batch of sauce. The green beans are long ago done and I pulled up the pepper plant and the cucumbers a while ago, but those tomato plants just keep on going and going.  There are even new blossoms--although fat chance anything will come of those before the first frost. Mike likes the tomatoes on a sandwich, salad, or just sliced as a side dish, but he will not eat tomato sauce. Something abut a pissing contest he had with his father while he (Mike) was still in a high chair.                       "Yes, you will eat that spaghetti before you leave thi...

Today I am feeling a bit out of sorts for no good reason whatsoever--the kind of day where my mother would have accused me of getting up on the wrong side of the bed.  I can remember as a kid her telling me that  and I really was being so crabby that day that I could not even stand myself.  The logical solution to my seven year old brain was to get back into bed on the "wrong side" and get back up again on the "right side."  I seem to recall that it worked at the time, and I went downstairs and announced as much to my mother and my siblings who had been suffering from my temper. I guess that tells me that I can just decide how I want to feel today.  Mike is off playing with his toys, so I'll wallow in my bad mood for a while longer and then I believe I will put on a more sociable face and go out to do some browsing at the fabric store.  Can't stay out of sorts and moody at the fabric store. As explanation--I have been having a recurring dream in whic...

Immediately after posting about my delight with my retirement life, I got a call from my old school district with an offer of a long term substitute position.  Amazingly, I feel a bit guilty for declining, but I think I can muster the resolve. I realize that both my health and independence are gifts to be appreciated while I have them, because they are not going to last forever. ************ It's not the parking lot I find so objectionable.  It's the people who use it as a trash receptacle, an open air bathroom, and a handy assignation spot (in broad daylight on more than one occasion). ************ I bought an MP3 player.  (I know, welcome to the 21st century, me!)  I thought it might be nice to listen to audio books while doing the housework.  I thought I would have to get my grandchildren over to show me how to use it, but I did manage to figure it out--at least get some music into it.  I can download books from the State library throu...

A friend recently sent this "history of the apron" to me.  As it happens I had sewn up a whole bunch of aprons, some of which are shown in the picture (although maybe not so clearly).  I always think to put on an apron after I have grease splashes or batter spatters all over a freshly laundered outfit.  In most of the memories I have of my grandmother, she IS wearing an apron and working in the kitchen.                                                                ******************* The principal use of Grandma's apron was to protect the dress underneath, because she only had a few, it was easier to wash aprons than dresses and they used less materi...

The sun is setting further to the south each night.  It has definitely lost intensity, and nights, especially, are cooler.  Darkness closes in much sooner than it did just a few weeks ago.  I dread turning the clocks back, but not the way I used to.  I don't have to venture out in early morning or late afternoon any more if I don't want to. It has been less than a month since we were at the beach in Rhode Island, where it seemed like summer would just last forever.  In the gardens, plants so recently lush and thriving are fading fast.  The work there now is cleaning up and bedding down for the cold months ahead. After five years of being retired, I suddenly find that I am not attuned to the school year.  The sight of the school bus dropping off the boy next door takes me by surprise.  It used to be that September was the real New Year.  Now autumn slips in a bit more gently. The scent of apples a tad past ripe gets me thinking...