She Was an Original

Blogging about one inspired me to blog about the other. She's been gone for 14 years this week. But there was no one like her. She was an original. In so, so many ways. To know her was to love her. "Gaggy", my dad's mom. We sure spent a lot of time with her growing up. It wasn't your typical tidy grandmother's home. Nope, it was a pink and brown house, unkempt, with concrete pouring trucks labeled 'Johnston and Vicki" in the driveway, a stone's throw from the railroad and the power lines.

No rocking chair, no books, no cookies and milk- try orange pop out of old hourglass shaped Sau-Sea shrimp cocktail glasses. Deep fried French fries, a double packet of Lipton Cup o' Soup, or macaroni and tomato juice for dinner. A candy cupboard in reach and encouraged. A lazy susan in the corner of the kitchen filled with can goods that we were allowed to empty and refill as often as we'd like.

It needs a photo... 

Not the little grey haired sweet type, but more a box color of the week, or perhaps a wig, sometimes clip-on earrings, always too much "rouge." Cigarette smoke filled house, garage sale curtains were changed (and sometimes bartered) weekly, the door never locked, and there was never a need to knock. Family feuds were just a part of everyday life. Bingo all over town was her thing... and we got to go... Ever taste pizza from a smoke filled room, or yelled "shake 'em up" at age 7?
We spent many long days at her house, being told in 80's fashion to "go blow the stink off you!"- meaning leave us alone and go play! We spent a lot of time in the garage filled with concrete forms, swinging on the laundry poles, and jumping off their perfect height concrete porch. We never needed toys, games, or TV (exception: game show time in the morning, those were not to be missed.) I still remember her saying "get the clicker, it's time to "Press Your Luck")
And, crazy enough- I'd personally credit her as the founder and originator of the gift basket.She, in my opinion, was sitting on a multi million dollar idea. Hers didn't come in a nice Pottery Barn style wicker lined basket perfectly shrink wrapped, tied with fancy ribbon. Hers came in a small plastic laundry basket. Filled with the best Vicks, Hills and Ames had to offer- coloring books, cheap lotions and potions, checkout line toys, perhaps a book. Wrapped in newspaper, tied with curling ribbon. But wow, did us kids look forward to this. Like a little treasure chest.
She had a true and highly unconventional way of making you feel special, wanted, and like you were part of a secret that no one else knew. My sisters and I often wonder what it would be like to know her today as adults. Her humor, wit, and perpetual annoyance at my grandfather (Da) would be something I'd love to experience as an adult, as well as a cup of her instant coffee.