My grandmother never threw anything away.
Not a thing.
She kept drawers full of sheets of old tin foil and washed out her plastic bags and cut her towels into smaller towels and re-grated soap to make new soap. She could stretch a dollar and a aluminum pie plate farther than anyone else I knew.
She grew up during the Great Depression when every piece of every thing had to be recycled. That’s what they did. That’s how they made it.
I wish I had more of her inside me. I toss everything. If something is worn or tired or holey, I’m the first one to wish it well and escort it to the trash.
But this weekend I did something a little different.
I went all my grandmother on myself and saved a pillow.Continue reading