Waste not want not. Everyone knows that. Not everyone knows the original proverb from which it evolved. “Willful waste makes woeful want.”
Grandma would know that. She knew a lot of things. Just like she knew the word “gadfly” when she played it for the win in Scrabble.
She could shoo away an annoying insect while she industriously toiled away in any part of the house needing her careful attention. Nothing could disrupt her rhythm.
Nothing. Not even if a new roll of Scott Towels fell into the sink full of fresh, soapy dishwater.
She could have lifted the roll out, shaken off the excess water, and chucked the sodden pulp in the refuse.
Not this granny.
She’d follow the first two steps, then do what only a resourceful woman during the Depression era would.
Several minutes later, her modestly sized kitchen would be decorated with 1,000 sheets of disposable paper.
She’d vacuum and dust other rooms while the towels air-dried. There was no sitting around idly whiling away time in Grandma’s world.
Hours later, they’d be rolled up and as good as new, ready to clean every surface of her humble home.
Grandma was willful. But she was definitely not wasteful.