About a month ago I visited my Grandparents in Leominster. It was an hour long train ride on the commuter rail that only cost 7$. Likewise, this past weekend my boyfriend and I visited his grandfather in Gloucester taking again the commuter rail, again only an hour, same cost. On these two separate trips I gathered many treasures.
With my own grandparents, I will admit that my grandmother- knowing me well, we spent most of the time shopping. But alas- not just any old shopping, we went yardsale-ing. Treasure hunting if you will. We began at 6:45 am and my grandmother, knowing the town and the addresses posted in the newspaper like the back of her hand, put her ‘taxi cabber’ hat on and we hit about 10 houses in no more than 1.5 hours. In the end, I found some $2 lace, an $8 wine casks of sorts, an $1 wedgewood tea cup set, $5 cutting board, $2 silver plated butter dish and a 10 cent 18kt gold necklace.
Despite the satisfactory booty, I still couldn’t help but take a visit to the local TJMaxx where I picked up a wonderfully unique, Cynthia Rowley cardigan for $30, which seemed like highway robbery after my penny yard-sale finds.
During our Gloucester visit, I was enriched with a different sort of treasure. Will’s grandfather is, among many great things, a story teller. I will not repeat half of what he imparted, part because it may be inappropriate to repeat without approval, and part because I would not do the story justice. However, I will tell you that at one point, in the middle of a restaurant, (sometime after shooting paper straw linings at his girlfriend’s granddaughter) he openly drooled as an essential part to his tale. I mean, he paused in his story, patiently took a sip of water, made his face go blank- and then opened his mouth, letting the pooled water spill over miraculously onto his plate. The demonstration was to emphasis a point in his story on how he said he won’t stop being himself until the day he does ‘this’. Point taken.
One story involved him once waiting in line for the bathroom at a restaurant. He told the woman behind him that she could skip him if she gave him a quarter. She, with her New York accent, asked if he was a meter. This, in turn, reminded him of a limerick which he shared.
“You can ‘meet-her’ in the cellar,
You can ‘meet-her’ in the park,
But the best place to ‘meet-her’,
Is to ‘meet-her’ in the dark.”
Completely hilarious, only slightly inappropriate. The next tale was a simple joke. When driving through Rockport, somehow a minor bit of celebrity gossip came up which encouraged Will’s grandfather to say this.
“Speaking of famous people- did you hear? I was watching the news and they said that actress, Reese something died.”
I was immediately befuddled and alert. “What? Reese Witherspoon?”
“No, with a knife”
It was literally the fourth time I had fallen for that same joke from the same person. And it was still that funny. I know a visit to one’s grandparents is usually done out of love and respect, but I will selfishly admit that it is all more than entertaining. It was a total treasure to find a mid 19th century piece of English Wedgewood pottery for $1, and a 18kt Italian gold necklace with a cute ladybug pendant for 10 cents, but in the end, the stories are the real treasures. Those are the things that will never be resold when turned old, and will never have a price.
However, I do wish my grandmother wouldn’t tell me so often that at her age, “Let’s just say we don’t buy green bananas.”