The prefix grand-, as in grandmother and grandfather, dates from the early 13th century. In case you were wondering.
One of my earliest memories of my paternal grandparents' room includes this mysterious pear-shaped bank, which sat for decades (at least 30 years) on my grandfather's dresser. I say mysterious because I never did learn: What the heck is it? Why is this bank shaped like a pear? Why did my grandfather have it? Was it special to him? Did it remind him of somebody or something? Did he just like the whimsy of it? After he died, when the house was being closed up, my parents asked if there were anything I'd like to have, and my mind went straight to the pear. They had no idea what I was talking about, but there it was, right where I had described it.
I have to wonder if my early exposure to this pear fostered my love of Mr. Potatohead and the fabulous operatic stop-animation orange who used to sing the aria from "Carmen" on Sesame Street. I mean, I love that orange. Love. Lurve. Looove.
Anyway, the bank now lives with me, and while the years have not been kind to her brittle plastic features, I still love her. She was empty until today, when it occurred to me that she would be a great keeper of good fortunes.
In the absence of a grand contribution from Griff today, I give you Señora Naranja. I wonder if Pop-Pop ever saw her?
