By Marian Gorrell
Alexiandramaria sat in her Granny’s small living room the weekend before she was due to go to high school registration. She was bored as usual, wondering why she had to suffer just because her parents had some altruistic idea that Granny actually needed company once in a while. If it was that important, why weren’t they here themselves?
“Lexi, have I ever told you about how I met your Gramps?” asked Granny, nit-picking over her knitting. “Oh phooey,” she added, while tinking back a yarn over. “I seem to be visiting the frog pond a lot these days,”
“No, I haven’t heard that one Granny,” yawned Lexi, hoping this story wasn’t going to take very long.’
“Back in those days I worked in a bank… escrow accounts and whatnot. Now I want to underscore that I wasn’t an embezzler or anything, but sure, I skimmed a bit off the top to get the money for my birthday weekend trip to Woodstock.”
“Granny!” exclaimed Lexi, suddenly interested in the story. She munched her popcorn and jellybeans waiting for Granny to continue.
“Oh sure, you thought your grandparents were just a couple of boring grabatologists, who had nothing better to do than look forward to tenebrae,” said Granny, her voice suddenly vitriolic. “I tell you, we were a couple of free-spirits who enjoyed plenty of shenanigans in our day.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” Granny continued, “I worked in a bank, and the day your Gramps walked in was pure serendipity. What a handsome young scrapper he was. He walked straight up to me and said, ‘hey Kitten I bet you’re a Virgo.’ Sure, I knew it was a cheesy line, but we were indivisible from then on.
“Child, go get that photograph from the chifforobe,” said Granny. Lexi scrambled to comply.
The photo showed an alabaster skinned damsel and a mischievous looking young man.
“Granny, you were so beautiful!” said Alexiandramaria, full of wonder.
“Of course I was,” retorted Granny. “Your Gramps used to say I was vulpine. I guess maybe I was.” Granny chuckled at the memory. “As I said, we went to Woodstock, and what a crazy time that was! We spread out our sheepskin rug next to a man who claimed to be a necromancer and we took some LSD. Oh, I felt as though I was caught in an oe, and when Hendrix came on stage I bared my bazooms and….”
Granny looked over to see her granddaughter passed out on the floor from shock.
“What a square,” mumbled Granny. She lit a joint and went back to her knitting.
NORMAL PEOPLE WORDS
alabaster, Alexiandramaria, altruistic, bazooms, birthday weekend, chifforobe, damsel, embezzler, escrow, high school registration, indivisible, jellybeans, kitten, necromancer, nit-picking, popcorn, scrapper, serendipity, sheepskin, shenanigans, underscore, Virgo, vulpine, Woodstock
grabatologists-people who collect neckties
tenebrae– matins and lauds for the last three days of Holy Week, at which candles are successively extinguished.
tinking back– unknitting to fix a mistake
visiting the frog pond– ripping out stitches to fix mistakes that you missed earlier
vitriolic-filled with bitter criticism or malice
yarn over– when you bring your yarn to the front of the work, then, when you go to knit the next stitch, the working yarn goes up and over your needle creating an extra loop on your needle as it makes that next stitch.
Andrea, Andrea Randall, Ann Michael, Barb, Barbara Shanahan, Brenda, Carol Luciano, Charlie, Cheryl Albertelli, David, David Ramquist, Denise Sherman, Donna Wolz, Gene, Jane Sellman, Joanie Sanders, Julia Mason, Julian White, Lynne Tiktin-Arias, Robin, Robyn K, Samantha Day, Sandra S., Sharyn, Suzan, Teresa, Yvonne Villegas