Over the river and through the woods

Photo from the family Tea Party

My grandma isn't your stereotypical grandma. Oh sure, she is a great crocheter--but my memories of going to grandma's house aren't full of cookie jars and a quiet house. A sewing room full of hidden candy, and coming and goings of family fill my memories.

Being one of the oldest grandkids I remember her house being a hub of activity. Men smelling of diesel coming in from the shop or field for lunch, family fish fry's on Sunday nights, sleepovers, "swimming" in the hot tub, dressing up in grandma's opals for church, catching poly wogs, playing Top Gun, perms in the kitchen, and the discovery of dinosaur bones are some of the things I remember from Grandma's house. I feel bad for the younger grandkids. They really missed out.

Grandma's children span quite a few years (about 23 in fact). Her youngest is a few months younger than me. So instead of going to grandma's house I went to Kandice's house. Where cousins, aunt and uncles would do our best to drive grandma batty. She would set the rules and we would try our hardest to break them without getting caught. When we did get caught she would yell. Oh boy can Grandma yell. But usually is was directed at Troy or Dusty.

Afterall I am a granddaughter.

Happy birthday Grandma! I love you!


P.S. Remember how I am your favorite?