A work in progress about my Granny

My great grandma was one of the strongest women I’ve known.  During the war, she worked in a machine shop until the war ended.  She was laid off so the “boys” would have a job when they came home.  I think she really could have been the original Rosie the Riveter  She worked her tail off her entire life.  I think about her often, there isn’t a day that passes where I don’t miss her.  I hope one day to be half the woman she was…


She rises before dawn, puts the coffee on and catches up on the news.  Though her face is full of wrinkles and her hair grey with time, her beauty and strength still radiate through her.  Her body, still strong enough to rise early and do all the work she considers her daily living.  She puts her robe on over her night gown slips on her slippers and heads outside to get the paper at the end of the driveway.  She comes back inside and sips coffee while reading the paper.  What a world this is, compared to when she was younger.  Stories of murder, burglaries and various other crimes litter the paper she reads.  She grew up in a world where there was no lock on her door.  Now, she arms her alarm every night and can be seen as a target both because she’s a woman living alone, and because of her age.  What happened to the good ole days?  Tired of reading all of the bad news,  she ventures to the kitchen where she starts breakfast.  She pulls a big slab of bacon out of the fridge, as well as two farm fresh eggs she picked up last night from her chickens.  Even though she’s a city gal now, her heart and self will always be country.  She gets busy frying bacon and cracks the eggs to fry in the bacon grease, takes the toaster out of the cabinet and toasts some bread.  The shells of the eggs go in the compost bucket she leaves on the stove, not the trash.  Not only does she have a compost pile, she also has a goat in the backyard.  Whatever he doesn’t take care of, gets put right back into the Earth.  She came from a large family, three boys and 3 girls, they were poor but her and her siblings didn’t know that.  They found a use for everything, Momma would make the girls dresses out of the flour sacks, and there was always food on the table.  Her parents sacrificed everything for those kids, she didn’t grow up in a world where material items were valued more than necessities.  Her breakfast on the table, three drinks next to the plate full of food, one cup consisted of her orange juice (tang) the other was her fiber, she mixed and drank this every morning, and finally her 2nd or 3rd cup of coffee.  A big breakfast for a big day ahead of her.


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