My father empties his change onto a shelf of one of the kitchen cabinets. Onto two shelves. It was starting to slide out when the door was opened, so we got together to roll it up.
This brought back memories of Oma, Dad's mother (who at age 64 came to Canada with us, and lived to the grand age of 99), counting out her coins - as a widow she had been a shopkeeper and knew about money in oh so many ways.
Sister Sue came over to help, and by the end of the evening we'd put $104 into rolls - and had a heap of loonies and toonies as well [the $1 and $2 coins].
This brought back memories of Oma, Dad's mother (who at age 64 came to Canada with us, and lived to the grand age of 99), counting out her coins - as a widow she had been a shopkeeper and knew about money in oh so many ways.
Sister Sue came over to help, and by the end of the evening we'd put $104 into rolls - and had a heap of loonies and toonies as well [the $1 and $2 coins].
1 comment:
Hello Mane !
My grand Mother, my father's mam, came over yours. She died at the age of 105 years. She still had her head, but if you would see her for a while, she got difficulty to remember you. She could'nt be kept in family, so she was in an old pensionners' house. Her self, she as to go when one day, she say to my father : * I can't made my bed anymore please look for a home. The lady director of that home had say * if all the old people here vould be as your grand mother, it would be the paradise, She never complain or ask and ask for attention.
One day I ask her *you never get bore here ?* *When I do I pray * ! she was so active in life, before war she got an hotel, in Caux, on top of Montreux, where then. many french refugiers came. She was keeping all the best for them. A litle bit of butter... It was for them.
For years, after the war, we got to visite a couple who the man had been a refigier in my grand mother hotel. We just cross the leman lake to go to Evian. There, we take the opportunity to by shoes, for all the kids, match chiper in France than in Switzerland, I We had to pass the sole on the macadam, to give the illusion than they where not new. i remember * la trouille* (friet : la peur au ventre ) than the border man say something. Now, of course, I am more relax about these, but for long time, I had fright to pass a border. One day I declare in Geneva, comming from London * I have bought wool *. The douannier wass a little bit puzzle. Never people had *declare* Wool !
Have a nice stay in Canada !
I have discoved a blog of a canadien lady who drive a lorry, the best blog I never seen, with reportages about what she see and do along miles and miles in Canadien' roads. Beautifull !
I will pass the adress later.
Big kisses. Béatrice.
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