Friday, February 24, 2012

Grandma Jerry

My grandma always wears a brooch when she wears a blazer.  She wears earrings every day.  Almost everything she eats gets salted.  Buffets are some of her favorite places to eat, along with Village Inn.  She loves fried chicken and chocolate cake.  Dogs eagerly jump up in her lap.  Electronics baffle her.  She recycles greeting cards.  In fact, all over her room you can find creative little innovations – the kind that work whether they look pretty or not.  But there are also many things she has around just because they are pretty: Kleenex box covers, music boxes.  When we were little, she would sit at her table and color pictures with us; I used to think she was condescending but now I think she really likes to color.  For years she has listened to books on tape, now on MP3.  A day before her 18th birthday she married my grandpa, together parenting their two sons and one daughter, all born in Kansas.  She knows about wheat farming, mail routes, watering gardens, and driving in the evening in the country hoping to spot some deer.  Every glass at her table gets a couple ice cubes before dinner is served.  The Price is Right gets turned on every day, and she likes to know the temperature outside.  When joining others in their interests, she dives in, trying to look the part and keeping notes even on the names of referees at sporting events.  Her memory isn’t very good, and both of her knees are bad.  Her laugh, though, will always be wonderful. 

To God be all glory.  


åslaug said...

I love this piece ;) your style of writing seems to have changed since I was last here (which is a long time), but the quality of your writing definitely hasn't changed. You're Grandma sounds like a lovely and interesting lady ;)
Soli Deo Gloria

Lisa of Longbourn said...

I've noticed my writing changed a bit, too. For quite a while I barely wrote at all. My brain wouldn't form sentences or complete thoughts. It's back to a writing-mode, but yes, it's a little different.

How's your life, åslaug?

To God be all glory,
Lisa of Longbourn