We're finally into 1953! Events will seem to move faster now, because the highlights will be so spread out over time, and we won't talk about all the crushing boredom between them.
After our arrival in Seattle and an initial rush to get to the family gathering on time, we settled into a prolonged sleepy stay at my Grandmother's house. During a large part of this time my parents were off having some sort of life without me, while I stayed in my Grandmother's care.
My Grandmother was great. She was a sensible woman with a great sense of humor. She was the only one of my grandparents still alive then. She was a Roberts, and she wanted me to be proud of my Scots heritage. This heritage seemed to revolve around eating peanut butter straight from the jar, so as to avoid having to go to the trouble and expense of having to get the bread out. That, at any rate, was what I gathered about it at the time, being not four yet.
She also was a keen judge of human beings, and was able to see through my Mother to the bone and hated her thoroughly. This endeared her to me. She will always be My Favorite Ancestor That I Have Known.
[Above right: All Peanut Butter eaten on or near Beacon Hill had to be Sunny Jim Peanut Butter, because Sunny Jim Peanut Butter came from Airport Way South, and therefore tasted better than all other peanut butters.]