This was my mother's mother and we called her Mama. This photograph was taken in my parent's living room. (You might notice they had a hard time keeping the picture window clean with four young kids at home.)
Mama was proper in many ways, yet quite a rebel in others.
She lived on Marietta Street (State Route 9) and if someone happened to toss an empty beer or wine bottle on her front lawn, she always made sure to wrap it in newspaper before putting in the garbage. That way, the gentleman that worked for Haynesworth's Sanitation Service would not dare think she was a drinker. Heaven Forbid!
She read thousands of books and probably read nearly every novel that the St. Clairsville library had in their collection. Her knowledge of geography was superior and she even taught school at one time but never had attended any form of college. I remember many times her reading Edgar Alan Poe to us and I always loved her deep appreciation and wonderful sense of the macabre.
We used to play the card game Authors and it is how I learned about folks like James Fenmore Cooper, Sir Walter Scott, Lousia May Alcott, and Robert Louis Stevenson. But when we played Old Maid, if she got the old biddy in her hand, it was instantly tossed under the table and we would laugh.
I never once saw her wear slacks or pants. Even in later years after a hip replacement, you might see her outside in a house dress - working on a tree with a saw in one hand and the walker in the other.
I remember when Mama babysat us, she would often say "Get your dad's Playboy magazines, I want to look at them" and we loved it. Years later, she kept a stash of dad's magazines in her kitchen closet.
She passed away in the seventies - that was Mama.