Grandmother's House

I'm at my grandma's house for a few days while our house is "re-piped" (the insides of the pipes are coated with some magical substance). I look forward to reading a good deal.

Living so closely with my family challenges my composure. One of my biggest complaints, however is that we don't have the same food here. Where's my tea? How come all the bread is white? And that I don't know where things are. It should not take five minutes to find the salt.

Grandma is incredibly frugal. She is over 80 with a net positive income. She washes her plastic cups and utensils in her dishwasher. The cups come out a bit warped, but otherwise okay. Why not just use the glass ones? I don't get it.

My favorite story about her frugality has to do with her visiting my grandpa's grave. I don't remember the exact holiday, but my mom, brother, and dad went with her and she brought flowers. As the story was reported to me, she put the flowers on the grave and said something to the effect of, "You know, Ed never liked to spend money that we didn't have to. I'm keeping to his wishes...I cut these flowers from my neighbor's bush that grew over into my yard."

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