Today On Saturday

I have been meaning to post this picture for awhile.
It is a picture of my Great grandmother. She is on the left
Her name was Alice and her sister on the right was named
Florence, but we called her Flossie. My great-grandmother
went to college and taught school. She was always a great
reader and she told me one that she read the book Ivanhoe
once a year. She also loved Scottish Chiefs. Her grandmother
was born coming to America, in a hold of a ship from Scotland.

Her parents, Mr and Mrs Robbins were first cousins and left their
family and moved west. They did not grow up knowing each other,
one brother lived on one side of a mountain and she lived on the other.
They left Virginia and moved to Paul's Valley Oklahoma.

She was always a strict kind of woman. My grandmother, always had
one of us in her lap, but I couldn't imagine crawling up in Granny Hayes lap.
She grew the most beautiful flowers. She went to a barbershop to get haircuts.
So her hair was always extremely short. She also dipped snuff.
It had to be triple 000 snuff. In a brown bottle. She would spit into
old cans with their labels removed. They were always clean and drying
in the kitchen. She would take a dip about 11:00 in the morning just before
she had supper. I would sit and watch. It always amazed me to watch her spit.
She would put it in front of her bottom teeth resting the can there. My Mom threatened death if I ever so much thought of dipping snuff.

She had a dressing table in her room. One day I was looking at what was there
and in a glass plate was some glasses and some change and they looked as if
the had been welded together. I asked her what it was and she told me, that,
On July 14, 1919, her father Zachery Robbins was out in the fields trying to get
the hay in before a storm. It started thundering and lightening. As he went
to crawl through a barbwire fence lighting struck and the electricity traveled
down and hit him. The stuff on the dresser had been what was in his pocket
at the time. She let me hold them and they were black maybe with age, but
the glass in the glasses wasn't broken. I have always wondered what happened
to them after she died.

I came in to do another kind of post today but I ran across this picture when I was
looking for something else. I wish now, that I might have known her from the vantage
point I am at now. She might not have seemed so remote now. I might have understood
her ways better.
Just something I thought I would share on this Saturday.

Have a lovely day,
~Kim~