Great-Grandma couldn’t stand Ted Kennedy, or any of the Kennedy family for that matter.
Happy birthday to my great-grandma, who would have been 114 today, if she hadn’t died in 1992 at the age of 94. I miss Grandma. She was cool. I would give almost anything for just one more afternoon of coffee and conversation with her, but you get what you get. I’m just glad that she lived close and I was able to spend as much time with her as I did. Besides having a taste for insanely strong coffee and for discussing conservative politics, she had a collection of tabloids that would boggle the mind. She always claimed to read them for the entertainment value. I read them for the entertainment value too, especially the Weekly World News.
The John Deere hat is a nice touch.
Grandma also had a framed, signed picture of President Reagan which I am sure one of the twins (my grandmother’s evil identical twin sisters) ended up with. I can’t believe the twins (who were in their early 70s at the time) had an out and out knock-’em-down, yank each other’s hair out, fist fight over her stuff. Besides some clothes and a few nice pairs of size 8 shoes, the Reagan picture was probably the only thing she owned that had any monetary value. If I know my twin great-aunts (and one of them is still alive-though the one who had the stroke died about five years ago) they were fighting over the shoes. They wore size 8s too.
I have a strong shoe fetish myself- but even should they be size 7s, I’m not fighting anyone for used shoes.
My twin great-aunts’ altercation over a few pairs of used shoes and a whole lot of worthless kitsch convinced me once and for all: I don’t need dead people’s stuff. My sisters can have it all. I am just curious when I die (they are slightly older than me, but they are much better preserved, and will most certainly outlive me) if they will brawl over my used underwear (the bras won’t fit either one of them- unless they add a little extra stuffins,) and not a few pairs of size 7 shoes that only one of them can wear. The oldest, who was my sadistic childhood nemesis, does well to fit her behemoth meaty feet into an 8EEE. The other sister also wears a 7B, and therefore, my shoes fit her.
I’ll cut out the middleman and just put my old skivvies on E-Bay now.
Or, better yet, I could E-Bay Jerry’s nasty old whitey-tighties, after he’s worn them for a night of gambling, drinking and the Hershey Squirts:
Of course, there’s a dude who’s already thought of using what appears to be a soiled set of whitey-tighties as a safe. I can sort of understand the mentality, though I would struggle with the temptation to pick out the cash and then toss the skivvies.
The replacement fridge is up and running quite nicely as of this morning. The ice is frozen and Jerry’s Natties are cold. Spuds is in the G&R, and all is right with the world.