cactus collective (by Ruby Smith)

my grandmother talks to my grandfathers empty chair and prays for my aunts husband as he is the “devil in disguise” which relates perfectly to her love of Elvis. For an old lady she is sweet but somehow thrives from the pity of others her ten year ago stroke limiting her speech and her persistance allowed herself to still drive and play piano brilliantly. She has saved every letter to ever be pushed through her letterbox (and kept in their envelopes), every newspaper since the 50s and as many ceramic animals as she can afford. 
this window may be the tidiest slightly minimalistic area in her entire house, i would love to live as my grandmother, surrounded my clutter.