22 June 2014

grandma king

My grandfather's great great great grandmother, my great great great great great grandmother.

Grandma King smoked a pipe and, according to stories, was quite something else. Especially when you consider that there are surviving stories at all some hundred years later.

Walking to the outhouse she would take her cane because she needed it to get there. Back she would come without it.

An hour or so later she would call out "Mary? Where's my cane?" and sure enough, it would be right where she'd left it.

Later again she would call "Mary! Where's my pipe?" and there it would be, hanging upside-down from the corner of her mouth.

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