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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Scribble and Scrambles - Grandmotherisms




Kim's comment from yesterday's "I Love My Job" post cracked me up.

In honor of my grandmother's recent 90th birthday, I think I'll share a few of my favorite grandmother moments.

My poor grandma has taught me how to knit and crochet at least a dozen times. Unfortunately, none of what she taught me stuck. However, I do remember her "Good Night!" whenever a kid did something naughty. Shudder. A "Good Night!" from Grandma guaranteed a very bad night indeed.

Popcorn flowed at Grandma's house. I can't look at a stainless steel mixing bowl without thinking of Carol Burnett, popcorn, and Grandma.

Grandma still likes to laugh at my expense over my honey faux pas. She handed me a container of honey and a saucer and asked me to put the honey in the saucer. This was my grandma, so I decided to take her request literally. I wondered but didn't ask while I poured the honey into the shallow dish. Apparently, she wanted me to set the container of honey into the saucer since the honey decanter dribbled.

My other grandma, Grandma V.would be thrilled that she died at 92 because she hated odd years. Of course, Grandma was really looking forward to heaven, too, so that could have been part of the motivation.


Grandma V. focused less on domestic training and more on...well, life's big issues.


I don't recall a conversation with Grandma V without her asking about my bowels. Grandma was a nurse and apparently bowel regularity was stressed in nursing school.

I also learned the value of proper lifting of heavy objects, or even better, letting my mother lift things instead. After all, Mom already had children and her uterus, if it ruptured, was expendable.


Finally, I'll never forget Grandma V's favorite horror story. The Boy Who Ate Green Apples...and DIED! I'm not sure what the moral of that story was, but I sure controlled myself around green apples after that. I kind of wish she'd used chocolate as the deadly vice. Oh well.


1 comment:

Kim said...

Oh Kelly! This makes me think of a lot of funny moments with my own grandmothers! Aren't they such a gift?

My Grandmother in law that I spoke of yesterday is particularly entertaining! I am very thankful for these treasured memories! Thanks for the mental nudge!!

Kim