KitKat and Tiara Girl, ManCub

This is a companion post for the last entry. I looked at the pics I took and, low and behold, Tiara Girl and KitKat shared a photograph. Oh, yeah. Interesting, indeed.



You've seen me post about my neighbor lady before, our neighborhood earthquake expert, Big E's great-grandmother, before, and here she is in all of her 45-pound-soaking-wet glory, with ManCub:
She had a cane with her, which she kept leaving on the floor. Her daughter picked it up and said, "Ain't this her cane?" I broke in and said, "Why do I get the feeling that she waves it around at more folks than she actually uses it to walk?"

She got a good laugh from that and confirmed my hunch. This little lady kept our bus stop corner organized for all six years Big E and ManCub have waited there. She's not mean, but she's got "the look" that most mothers would just die to master. I can see her punctuating her conversations, ala Yoda, with the tip of the cane, used more to direct the orchestra of her life as well as help her get through it, still on her own two feet.