The Grandma Project

I have 2 entities to thank for this entry. First, of course, is my dear Grandmother, Fleta. She left us in '99 and we still miss her. She had no way of knowing that her practice of saving bits of this and that and glueing them into books would impact me as it has. I have a very RATIONAL fear of losing my mind, or at least sliding into dementia at some point. Whether it be early onset or later, it's bound to happen. I'd rather have a way of recollecting something of my life, even if it is to look at my collections of stuff and to say to myself, "This lady sure lived a good life whoever she is."

I must also thank the school system by whom I am employed. They occasionally grant me a snow day, or in today's case, an icy-secondary-road day. We took a walk out there and confirmed that, yes, our road remains icy and the wind may very well take off the ears of a small child. So thanks to Grandma Fleta and to the local school system- I heart you both!

This stuff's been piling up for about 10 months! Probably since the last snow day of the 2009-2010 school year. Mainly it's playbills, newspaper articles containing blurbs about hubby or photos of the kids. Of course, VT football tickets and the things you pick up on vacation that tell about where you've been. There are obituaries and wedding programs. It goes on and on. Happy and sad things alike are included, all the things I may want to be reminded of when I'm old. My children won't care to recall them, my husband and I won't be speaking to one another by then, and I will be a reclusive old hag I suspect. I'll need this, I'm pretty sure in order to maintain my sanity... or at least what's left of it.
Here are a few of them stowed away under the bookshelves in the foyer.
There are a few more up top, but as you can see, they're quickly outgrowing their allotted space. If you're ever around my place for a visit or a crab leg, feel free to peruse pages of the "The Grandma Project".
Part of my dream for getting the upstairs of our home completed is to have my husband build an giant bookshelf for me up there... somewhere... right about there. Can you visualize it? I can't either, but he's a genius at that sort of thing and I have full faith that one day, my scrapbooks will have a glorious new home... I just hope I'm not already senile when it occurs because I want to be able to find my way up there.

Viva la Grandma Project!