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Memories Made of Tin

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When I was little I remember going to my grandmother’s house (particularly around the holiday – she always had this little ghetto tree made of silver tinsel next to her TV. She would sit and smoke and watch Days of Our Lives. Undoubtedly bored, my brother and I would wander off and try to find something else to do.) She lived in this huge monstrosity with three floors and an attic and a basement and a yard that seemed to stretch out for miles. The foyer had a deep purple carpet and crystal pane windows on the front door that would leave prismatic rainbows all over the floor. It always felt very somber to me, but I still liked it (almost like a church, I guess.). My grandfather had an office in there too at one point – I seem to remember there were gnomes pushing wheelbarrows on some of… Read more