Knowing When You’re Going To Get Taken By Someone

My grandmother had quite both the sense of humour and nerves of steel, not to mention her tenacity. Another story that my grandmother remembered and wrote out. My sides still hurt from reading it.

The Wrinkle Cream Viewpoint

My daughter came by yesterday.  She took me to lunch, then to get my hair and nails done.  I knew that I was being buttered up for something.  She doesn’t come often, let alone take me out for lunch or spend that kind of time with me.  Her life is usually “busy”.  Her world is “busy”.  Worst of all, she was sweeter than a chocolate bar with caramel dripping from its middle.  That’s when I know that something is coming and it did.

At the end of all of her greasing me up, she lowered the boom.  Luckily, I’d gotten a heads-up from my granddaughter to what she was up to so, I played along.  At least I got my hair and nails done and a fancy, expensive lunch out of it first.

When she finally got me back home, she came in, sat down and started clearing her throat.  Of course…

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My Great Granddaughter’s Call

My grandmother’s memories of my daughter’s call to her with a previous boyfriend. I have tears coming down my cheeks. She was witty to say the least.

The Wrinkle Cream Viewpoint

I got a call on the phone last night from one of my great granddaughters.  She was all fuddled up about a boy she’s seeing.  Cried her fool head off and I couldn’t understand a word she was saying for the first 20 minutes.

“Gran, I’m a mess,” she said, still blubbering away.  “I love this guy but, none of my friends or my Mom and Dad, like him. What am I going to do?”

“Is this the same one I met at your parent’s anniversary party,” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s him,” she answered.

I was hoping that she was going to tell me that it was someone else so that I could get down my daughter and son-in-law’s arses over it.  They’re a couple of donkeys anyway.  Unfortunately, I met the fool a few times and if I could have gotten out of my chair quicker, I would have given the jerk a…

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There’s A Rainbow Behind Everything

I am getting such a kick out of my late grandmother’s sense of humour that I can’t sit up for laughing. Laugh with me, please. It’s hilarious. What a sense of humour the woman had. Gawd I miss her.

The Wrinkle Cream Viewpoint

My friend, Betty, is depressed.  She says that she doesn’t know why.

I can think of reasons why she’s depressed and how to get her out of it with the same examples to prove that there’s a rainbow behind everything.

  1. She’s 92 years old.  (She’s 92 years old….how many people can say that?)
  2. Her family doesn’t come around much. (Her family doesn’t come around much…she doesn’t have to hand them out money or listen to their bitching. Be grateful.)
  3. She says that her mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be and she’s forgetting a lot of things.  (Remembering everything ain’t what it’s cracked up to be.  When you don’t remember things, you can tell people off then say, “I don’t remember saying that.”  It gets you out of a lot of trouble when you really just wanted to tell someone off!)
  4. Her hands and legs don’t work without…

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Sunday’s Are For Families Not Shopping

These were my grandmother’s stories that she wrote, painfully typing them out with 2 finger style pecking motions which took hours. I’ve inherited her blog space and I intend on starting it up again since I haven’t had a thing to do with it in about 5 years now.

The Wrinkle Cream Viewpoint

I took my bundle buggy and went to the supermarket yesterday.  Never thought I’d ever get used to Sunday shopping.  I used to think about all of them people who have to work and be away from their families but, I figured since they were there anyway….I may as well get some use out of it.

Back when I was younger, nobody went shopping on a Sunday.  Hell, nobody did much of anything.  We’d get up, get dressed, go to church, have lunch and sit around for the afternoon, reading the newspaper or books.  During the summer days, we’d go for a drive or head to the lake for a swim.  Not much got done on a Sunday and that was good.

I remember one Sunday, Ernest and I packed up the kids into a car that Ernest had borrowed from one of the people he did odd jobs for whatever cash he…

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