My Grandmother's Name Is Viola Marie

Comp I

Descriptive Essay

September 27, 2011

My feisty grandmother

My grandmother's name is Viola Marie. She could not deny that she was a grandmother, because she looked like just about every other grandmother in the world, she wore a dress with sensible shoes and had blue-gray hair. Still, she was my grandmother.

My grandmother's outward appearance was typical of what anyone would expect a grandmother to look like. She had the normal blue-gray colored hair that most grandmothers have. She had wrinkles on her face that showed not only her age but also the wisdom that comes from a long life. On her wrinkled face sat a pair of glasses. Her body shape was that of a woman that has given birth to six children and who knew how to cook, pleasantly plump.

She always wore the same basic clothes. She would wear a silky looking dress, usually with a floral print. She also wore a pair of no nonsense orthopedic shoes; the left sole was built up about an inch more than the right. She seemed to always have on a pair of knee highs. No matter the day of the week or the time of year this was her preferred uniform.

While my grandmother looked like any other grandmother, her hearing was perhaps the best on the planet. She had a cookie jar in her dining room that always had something good inside. We grandchildren would always try to sneak a treat out of this jar. Opening the jar was the easy part; putting the lid back on usually got us caught. We never could get the lid back on without the slightest clink of the glass lid meeting the jar. If no one else could hear that sound, she could. I don't think that we ever succeeded in liberating the treats from that jar without getting caught.

My grandmother was a very feisty woman. She was a door-to-door salesman's worst nightmare. She told me a story of a salesman who tried to sell her a vacuum cleaner. He was giving away a set of attachments or a set of steak knives with each purchase. My grandmother ended up getting both items and a discount on the purchase. The salesman told her that she was the most stubborn woman he had ever met. When she told me that story her eyes twinkled with a mischievous light.

Even though she had a feisty streak, she was a very loving woman. Every time someone was around her