grandma DD

In the garden of Edith


garden-of-edithWe lunched today in Grandma DeeDee’s garden. I wanted to see her latest project, the parking strip in the front where she replaced the sod with blooms and green, a bird bath, a bird house, a bench, and a path through the beauty. She told me about wanting to do this last year and I wished her luck. She’s only 98 so why not come up with a new project? As we pulled up to her house, Dom looked outside and saw her home, in spring bloom, and simply said, “whoa”.

He climbed out and disappeared into her yard while I gathered our stuff and Gabbi. Eventually, he came back to find me and inform me that I needed to come with him. I needed to see all of the flowers. I needed to smell them all with him. He instructed me on how to smell them, leading by example, and watching me as I copied.

We sat on a blanket on the lawn in the backyard, eating our PB&Js. Dom would give Grandma pieces of his crust and she would eat them, making faces at him, which made him giggle and laugh.

“Eating the crusts will make your teeth strong,” she said. He picked off more crust and ate it himself, smiling at her.

Later, she sat on a bench while Dom searched for potato bugs.

grandmas-garden

dom-in-the-gardenGrandma told me about working on her project and how her sons helped her dig out roots, how she paid a boy that needed odd jobs to dig out the sod, and how she teaches piano to a family in her ward and they helped her afford the concrete pavers, bird bath, and bench because they owned the shop where she purchased them. She explained how she and my uncle dug up peonies from the back, split the roots, and planted them throughout the front. The blooms were just about to pop open today.

It was a group project. Grandma was the project manager. Turns out, nearly a century of experience and hard work makes you an excellent PM! She should be a consultant… in all of her spare time.

I had to leave sooner than I wanted to get home for nap time.

I only wish these cell phone pics were scratch and sniff.

 

dom-smelling

gabbi-in-the-garden

Thanksgiving Confession: I Ate Sugar


You knew, didn’t you? You knew that I couldn’t quit sugar during the holidays. But you didn’t say anything. You just waited… knowing.

I ate sugar on Thanksgiving. So kill me. And do you know that it tasted delicious? Deeeeee.lish.us.

It is NOT physically possible to turn down Grumma’s pumpkin pie.

And Maren made pear pie. That’s just fun to say. Try it. Pear pie. Great. Now, EAT IT. Yum!

This year, we celebrated at my parents’ home, even though Mom was dealing with some major jaw/tooth pain and swelling. We had no idea until we showed up at the house, though.

Nathan and I walked in, bearing food, the house smelled like a feast, we waltzed into the kitchen and surprise, Mom’s face is swollen.

And yet, the turkey’s nearly done, the table’s set, and the buffet of goodness is spread in bowls along the kitchen counters. This is where you look around, holding your measly one appetizer and one bowl of mashed potatoes and say, “oh, we could have helped if we’d known.” Thankfully Grumma helped them.

Here are a few pics of the tasty event:

Prosciutto-wrapped crudités as an appetizer. And it’s my fault the olive oil isn’t nicely drizzled, but looks like it leaked out of random stalks of broccoli.

Mern and Dustin eating very small amounts (don’t you think?) at their first of two Thanksgiving dinners.

Check out the purple plates—more appropriately they should be called platters. The larger the more food you can pile on. And so many pretty colors, Margie King would be proud!

Yay family! Me, Nathan, Grumma (hiding), Mom (hiding her swollen jaw), James, Grandma, Dustin and Mern. Dad took the pic and look, his plate’s already been licked clean, he was THAT hungry.