The car smells of Boomer despair

Our car is as ancient as a Viking long ship and as glamourous as a discount warehouse baked bean can. Something inside the old jalopy smells bad, like pickled face flannel, but it’s not so bad that you want to puke and with the windows open it’s bearable over short distances. However, today, I’m drivingContinue reading “The car smells of Boomer despair”

Bad Grandma writes her obituary

When I am gone you must admit you called me ‘Grump Ma’ and etch into my gravestone the words: ‘Never obedient, eventually gave up.’