new is rarely improved

I have always been suspect of new things. The phrase “New and Improved!” has always made me turn my little nose up at the end, and made me know with certainty that the one making such a pronouncement was surely full of crap. I have always enjoyed the thrill of looking for “good old stuff,” one of the many traits I inherited from my grandfather.

I have many things in my house that are from my grandma and grandpa’s home, but few things that were solely my grandpa’s. My grandpa meant the world to me and I took it especially hard when he passed. Over labor day I was in the closet of the bedroom that he and my grandma shared for the duration of my childhood when tucked away in a large canvas bag I happened upon five cameras that my grandpa shot during the span of his lifetime – yet another thing that we shared. Pictured here are two of them.

My grandpa had some traits that made him hard to understand; hard to get along with at times, and I share these as well. He often had little patience for people and sometimes the things that he said could cut to the quick even to his only granddaughter, something that I try to be aware of — but I will never be anything but glad to be my grandpa’s girl.

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