HistoryDiva's 'Vacation': Day Six

Thursday started out just as cold and rainy as the rest of the week. I managed to talk mom into a decent breakfast today and I have to say that I really enjoyed my Bananas Foster French Toast. There is just nothing better than a trip to the local Eat ‘n Park…and I picked up some Smiley Cookies to bring back home with me.

Oh, remember that thing I mentioned yesterday about EVERYBODY supporting the Penguins? Well…here’s some proof.

My grandmother had a dentist appointment today (big excitement when you're 89) so much of the morning was spent reminding her to take her prescribed antibiotic at the correct time. Mom spent a lot of time sitting in the dining room talking to her parents because it was the last time we would be seeing them this trip as we would be spending the evening with the other side of the family and would leave early the next morning. Mom and Grandma headed out for the dentist, leaving my grandfather and I to ramble around the house together for a few hours.

My grandfather is a very interesting fellow (my grandmother is interesting too but you have to work harder to get her in a good enough mood to talk about some of the more amazing things she has done in her life...like being president of her highschool class, the editor of her highschool and college newspapers, and the author of the her senior class play). He grew up on a dairy farm, was in the army during WWII, and is a retired electrical engineer. In other words, if you’re looking for an entertaining afternoon of stories this is the guy you hang out with. I’m not sure how the conversation started exactly, but before long we were sharing tales of our most memorable bouts of sickness (See! I come from a long line of folks whose conversations tend to wander far a-field). This was somehow parlayed into some very entertaining and ‘risqué’ stories from his time in the army. All in all, a good afternoon…and a nice visit with one of my favorite people on the planet.

(OH! And just so you know…while they were out Mom and Grandma stopped to have lunch, and apparently mom broached the subject of Grandma’s comments about my weight. To which my grandmother replied that she ‘hadn’t said a single thing about my weight the entire time we had been there.’)

We met up with two of my father’s sisters (he has four) for dinner at a local chain restaurant and while the food was fantastic the service was horrific. I won’t go into detail but I will say this much…with as poor as the service was, it was still better than the last time I dined at Applebee’s. We finished off our evening at my Aunt Alice’s apartment (who btw, is an awesome person…seriously. If I start now I might because half as amazing as she is by the time I die) listening to the latest gossip and happenings on my father’s side of the family.

And now…because I know you have just been quivering in anticipation…here are more covertly taken pictures of my grandparent’s house. (Shut up! I was bored!)

Let’s finish off the second floor, shall we?

Here is a peek into my grandparent’s bedroom, a room which until this trip, I had never been farther into than the doorway. Manners and privacy and blah, blah, blah. I happen to know, because my mother told me, that the only access to the attic is though a small pull down door in the ceiling of my grandparent’s bedroom closet. I also happen to know that these days the only thing up there is some luggage.

Here is a quick peek into the room my mother and aunt shared while growing up in this house. According to my mother the furniture placement in this room hasn’t changed…except that now there is a bookcase where my aunt’s dresser used to stand. Oh, and apparently the walls have always been this weird mint green color.

And downstairs we go!

Here is the rest of the living room, and were this a panoramic shot you would see the organ sitting to the extreme right. I remember when the carpet in this room was brand new. We (the grandchildren) weren’t even allowed to walk on it. This meant several summers of not entering the living room.

P.S. That couch is older than I am.

This is the dining room. Until about a dozen years ago my grandparents had a set of handmade dining room furniture which made this space far more crowded then it appears now. That dining room set, handmade by my great-grandfather, now lives in my parents’ house.

Oh, and that cute old guy in the corner is my grandfather.

This is the kitchen. This is seriously all there is to it. You will notice (if you look really hard) that there is no dishwasher. This means that I (being the youngest person in the house) spent the week washing dishes after every meal…and there is nothing I hate more than washing dishes.

This is my grandmother’s calendar. It hangs on the wall just inside the kitchen door. She writes down everything, always has. If you look closely you will see several birthdays and anniversaries, appointments, meetings and the arrival of my mother and I listed there. If you look really closely you will also notice that the anniversary of the death of grandma’s younger sister is also listed. I meant what I said about ‘she writes down everything.’

Because the kitchen is so small my grandfather converted the wall of the basement stairs into a very serviceable storage space.

Shall we go downstairs? The door that you can sorta see on the right at the bottom of the stairs leads to the garage…which looks like every other garage so I’m not taking its picture.

My grandfather’s favorite hobby was photography; he took pictures all the time. It really bothered him when he no longer had the strength in his hands to support his camera equipment comfortably. Happily he was able to find someone in the family who would lovingly care for and use his very nice camera…namely me. But while he was still able to indulge in his hobby he converted the small space under the basement stairs into a working darkroom, the door to which you can see here. To the extreme right (again, if this was a wide angle shot) you would see a large green utility sink and the washer and dryer. Immediately behind me stand the furnace and water heater.

Back on the other side of the room stands my grandfather’s work table. Here he spent his free time putting his electrical engineering degree to good use by tinkering with everything in the house which ran on electricity or batteries. It was here that he built the infamous ‘idiot box’ (a door bell hooked up to a battery in a metal casing) which kept my cousin ‘Bob’ amused for days until it’s batteries died.

This is the small basement window near my grandfather’s work table. I have always liked the view out of this window, because it makes me think of my grandfather and the love he has for all growing things. (He was an amazing gardener…heck, he only has to look at a plant and it will perk up and start blooming.) To the upper left you will see the base of a flowering ‘blue’ lilac. To the upper right is box privet. The ferns just outside the window have been there for as long as I can remember.

My grandfather worked as electrical engineer for a very large; very well know company which was under a government contract. He spent time working on things like super conductors, nuclear power, and radioactive isotopes. He worked in ship yards, gigantic factories, and even organized the relocation of a massive nuclear material holding tank. This is an unbelievably strong magnet from one of his many projects. As a child I was fascinated by the fact that I could wrap my hands around it and hang from it without it letting go of the metal beam overhead. As an adult I still find it very difficult to move and even more difficult to actually detach from the beam. But my grandfather could always move it…which sort of made him superhuman in my eyes.

When I told my mother that I would be chronicling my trip on this blog she suggested that I include a picture to my grandparents and the outside of their house. But I told her I wouldn’t because they don’t deserve to have their anonymity stripped away like that. While I love my readers, there are just some things that you don’t need to see.