My husband had a grandmother. He spent every summer at her house. She never minded having him there. Back then, she ran her own business. She organised everything by herself, selling medicinal herbs to chemists. My husband has no idea how she managed it all, but he remembers that, for those times, she earned rather a lot. She was a woman with quite a particular character. She loved my husband and never spared any money when it came to food, but she wouldnt give him even a few pounds for amusements or treats. Everyone thought she must be saving up for something. Her house had big wardrobes with dozens of little compartments, each one locked and carefully guarded.
As a boy, my husband was always curious about what she kept inside, but his grandmother would tell him it was all for work. Eventually, the world changed. Small businesses became commonplace, and other people outpaced her competitively. She then began working as a healer. She never charged for her help, but the people who visited her were very well-off. We used to visit her when she was still alive. She lived in shocking poverty, dressed in shabby clothes, and ate the simplest of meals. Wed bring food with us, but she always refused it. She said we oughtnt pamper her, as she was used to her own way of life.
After she passed away, she left her house to my husband. When we arrived to settle her affairs, we discovered her larder was filled with food, but all of it well past its sell-by date. It turned out grateful clients had brought her these supplies, but she never ate them. But the real surprise awaited us when we opened her cupboards. Inside, we found heaps of expensive items from the 1990s, like some strange museum of forgotten treasureseverything in astonishing quantities. Why would she tie up her money in things sure to lose their worth? I simply cannot fathom that woman.
