
Affirmation
That crepey neck.
I’m going to look like my Grandmother.
But I refuse to wear blue tennis shoes like her,
and when my jewelry starts turning black,
I’ll stop wearing it.
I won’t use straight pins for buttons
or rat my hair and roll it in a bun.
I won’t save Cracker Jack prizes in canning jars
or give all my money to the Seventh day Adventists.
I will not save food in my purse to take home from family dinners,
and I won’t let so many cats sleep in the henhouse.
That is awesome!
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Now, why would you want to spurn so many of Grandma’s admirable qualities? 😉
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Ha. As I recall, those tennies were so old that they had worn holes to let her corns through.
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But she got her family through hard times on the prairie. She was a midwife and spent a lot of her time away from home, I believe.
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Admirable resolve. Hope you can carry it through.
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No henhouse, no sneakers, no gold jewelry. Although I suppose my silver stuff could tarnish. The crepey neck, I can’t help….
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No one can help that! Hen or turkeys!!! But you have years to go till then.
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No. I just didn’t make the focus extra sharp. The crepe is there and there is a solution..I just think it would be so embarrassing to die under the knife while having a neck lift.
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That’s too risky. A scarf works equally well.
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Ha. But I keep losing them. They get hot, I put them around my shoulders instead of around my neck, they fall off and are history.
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Oops!
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Cute poem…I love your hair!
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Forgottenman says I look like a schoolteacher in this photo! Ha. I think I took it at his house last year.
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I hope your grandmother had a decent size purse.
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She did. It was pouchy with two rounded handles and the black leather was all scuffed. When she did shuffle the few blocks uphill to town occasionally, she would look for little treasures on the sidewalk and in the ditches and stuff them into her purse. Those were the things that filled the canning jars on the shelves in her basement dugout hideaway. Oh what I’d give for those canning jars now..and must admit, I have tens of thousands of little tchotchkes all hidden away in compartmentalized drawers in my studio–fodder for the mixed media assemblages I make. Had never thought of that before. Damn. I am turning into my Grandmother!! But no holey blue tennis shoes. Croc sandals will have to do.
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Maybe you could go for a different color tennis shoe. Eventually. 🙂
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That was funny ! An Anti-tribute. Oh, when I think of the odd stuff I remember of my parents (now deceased) I wonder of the gross caricature my kids will draw of me? LOL
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And you’re not going to share that odd stuff?
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Hahaha! And some people think getting older is an excuse to do all those very things and not care what anyone thinks.
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Yes, and my Grandma was one of them.
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Clearly!
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I should hope not 🙂
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I like how she saved “Cracker Jack prizes in canning jars” and let all those cats stay in the henhouse.
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That’s Grandma!!
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I wish I could see some of those old things they had, but moving a lot loses a lot.
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Good one. Am starting to look like my grandmother too.
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Can’t reply normally — am in Santa Barbara — This is wonderful — just remember that your inner beauty does not age in the same way as your outer beauty!
> WordPress.com
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Strength…
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With all that you aren’t going to do, what will be left to do? Thanks for the down-to-earth portrait of one of your ancestors. You must have been close to her.
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She lived three blocks away from me and was the only grandparent I ever knew. I last saw my mother’s mother when I was 2 so have no memory of her. This was my dad’s mother.
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This makes me laugh, and cry. Then hiccup.
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A hiccup is my favorite response!
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