Deliver Me from Little Old Lady

I'm staying with my grandmother. If you don't know why, read the rest of my blog.

Its very generous of her to be sure, but to say that this is radically different from my usual life is an understatement. The pace is different as is the lifestyle, but its the decor that is the most stark in comparison to my old home.

Allow me to demonstrate.

Grandma likes stuff. Lots of figurines and whatnot.
None of this is truly heinous, mind you. A few porcelain statues and the top from her wedding cake under glass- standard fare for grandmas.

If only it would stop there. Remember the figurines?

They are everywhere! This is pretty low density, actually. But her collections offer up a little bit more to the gluttony of a bitch like me.

Here, for example are her wall of plates. It would be a clearer picture but her Yorkie attacked me as I was taking it.

A full WALL of collectible plates. I admit to having heard of most of the places or events memorialized on the plates, but I would never want to experience them.

The plates are the minor collection here at the museum of the damned. My grandmother's turtle collection (see Hotel Grandma) is the showcase showdown here at the "Price is higher than it was when I was your age."


The shelves in the middle of the shot here are 1/8 of the collection. Before we move on to the closer shot, I want to point out two things. One is the clock on the wall. Who, under 50 owns a ticking clock that chimes? I don't know a single person. The other thing is the lamp here. I will show a closer shot of the hanging beacon of 1960's luminescence, but I wanted to put it in context. Also note the highly reflective floor. Women are encouraged to wear spanky's at grandmas house.
OH MY GOOOOOD. Turtles are fucking EVERYWHERE. I'm going to start collecting hares just to spite this collection!
Damn. She beat me to it.

Let's go back to the lamps:
Yea, the lamp is hideous. But lets look past that for the moment. To the lace drapes in the back. Lace drapes that cover floor to ceiling windows across a whole back of the house. I need a break. Lets get some alone time in the guest bathroom:
Crap on the Crapper! Knit personal product container covers, turtles like crazy, an I dream of genie bottle AND this clever Kandinski inspired shelving system my grandfather built before cutting off his ear. Enough of the bathroom, let's just go sit in the dining room- nothing crazy there, Im sure.

These were both gifts. My parents had a version of the wash basin until the whole house "accidentally caught fire," destroying it completely. The silver platter is lovely, but if you look closely you can see it is covered in plastic wrap. A sensible precaution that prevents tarnish. I once asked my grandmother about it and she said "do you have ANY idea how long it would take to polish that damn thing?!" Pragmatism took priority for taste here and really in the whole house. I wonder if there was anything that was any worse?


That's right. It's a gold stenciled velvet painting of the last supper. It speaks for it's self, but I want to say more. This was a gift. But no matter how ugly or silly, if you give it to my grandmother, she will put it on my wall.

As you can imagine, I have confined my modern command center and media collection to my bedroom.

The worst you can say is that its messy. YOU pack up 10 years of your life and cram it in to one room and see how neat YOU are. I have been reduced to only two computer monitors, a surround sound stereo, and a color laser printer. Squatting clearly leaves you with very little.

It's a warm bed and though I may not be getting culture here at gramas, I sure got this story.

Story of my life,

Fred

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