Alternates lovely prose, sly observations and a quite barren and sad childhood. But, though Damon paints a lonely, dismal existence in some respects, she has grabbed the best of it and relishes it. Her grandma has never hugged, caressed or praised her; yet she knows the love is fierce. Grandma is devoted to duty and sacrifice, but on her own terms. Aunt Martha does all the housework but Grandma has all modern conveniences removed for moral reasons. Stupid items like the pulley and chain on the well.
Chapters alternate the bliss of Grandma’s flower gardens with the loneliness and despair when Grandma eliminates Bertha’s beloved puppy on a count of sinfulness.
Complex. I will be glad to be done with it, but I’ve already ordered her other book, A Sense of Humus. ( )