So I went to my Granny’s house on Sunday so that I could get these pages from my great-great-grandmother’s journal from her. They’re not even in a book, it’s basically just tissue paper tied up with string! Ah! I’m so nervous to have them.
These particular pages span from 1927 - 1930. I think she lived in Cincinnati, but every few months, just for kicks, she would hire a guide and this guy she only ever refers to as “the Navajo” and ride down into Utah and the Southwest. They would sleep under the stars and she bought all this amazing jewelry and pottery and so on from them, a lot of which Granny still has (one of the pots sold for like $50,000 at an auction in Boston a couple of years ago! I went, it was crazy). I guess very few women had gone on that kind of excursion in the 1920s.
Granny gave me the pages to type up so that we can send them around to the family, and so that we have her words stored somewhere so that if, god forbid, her house ever caught on fire or something, we’d still have the content. I’m excited—great-great-Granny Krippendorf sounds like a total bamf, and I definitely inherited her wanderlust.