An Apple A Day

Many of my fondest childhood memories involve my Grammy. I loved that woman sooo much. I always say that she was my VERY FIRST BEST FRIEND.

I could talk with her for hours. Play in her curly hair for hours. Read to her for hours. And time always managed to simply FLY by.

Although we didn't live very far from my grandparents, spending time in their home was always like a vacation for me.

We lived in Carson. They lived in Inglewood. Yet the two cities seemed worlds away.

Each year, as soon as the last day of school would finish, I would pack my bags and head over to "Grammy and Paw Paws."

My grandparents always had a dog, and although I am allergic, I would spend entire days in the backyard playing and teaching the dog tricks. As a result, my nights were filled with lots of sneezing, along with itchy eyes and throat. In spite of all that, I'd be right back out in that yard the next day.

To this day I am the same way. I absolutely LOVE dogs but if you've got one and I come over to visit, you can be guaranteed that I'm gonna pet it and make a new friend. I just can't resist.

When I wasn't teaching my grandparent's dog tricks, I was in the backyard picking apples for my Grammy to bake a pie. My goodness, her pies were DELICIOUS! Thankfully, I can say that I have the recipe. It was in the recipe book that she received on her wedding day back in 1940-something. Maybe '44 or '46. I'd have to dig it out to be sure.

Anyway...the pie was AMAZING.

I still remember how she and I would sit and enjoy a slice together. I would eat the crust and juice from MY piece; she would eat the baked apples from HER piece. Then we'd SWITCH PLATES. I'd eat HER crust and juice; she'd eat MY apples. We were the PERFECT pie-eating team!

I was reminded of my Grammy today when I tried an Opal Apple for the first time. I know a few folks who rave about them, so I thought I'd give one a try.

Between Granny Smith, Golden Delicious, Fuji, Gala and Macintosh apples, Galas are my favorite.

The opal was good too though. Something about it reminded me of a pear. Maybe it was the feel and taste of the skin. Not 100% sure. But I liked the fact that it was crisp, not mushy -- and sweet, not bitter.

Would I try one again? Sure. Not sure that I'd buy anymore but if someone offered one to me, I would accept.

For now though, I think I'll stick with my Galas.

Now Let the DIALOGUE begin: You probably guessed this one -- What's YOUR favorite type of apple? And have you ever tried Opal?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Simple Reminders

This evening I was cleaning my cupboards, getting rid of stuff that's expired and just trying to get a sense of order in my life.

As I was tossing stuff, I came across a bag of prunes...and almost began to cry. Almost.

Why would a bag of prunes make me cry? Well, if you've been following the blog since September 17th, you already know. These weren't just any old prunes. These prunes were my mom's.

Shortly before she became ill and hospitalized she had MAJOR dental work done. She had all of her teeth removed and was going to get a nice new set of "pearly whites".

But all of those plans were changed on September 17th when she went into the hospital. She went from being on a feeding tube, to being on a "puréed" diet, since she didn't have teeth to chew anything.

At one point she because so frustrated with the tastelessness of her puréed diet that she almost didn't want to eat anything at all.

Then one day she ran down a list of things she'd like to have. PRUNES were on that list. The very next day I went to visit her with a bag that included 8 individual packs. She asked me to only leave one pack at a time and that she would tell me when she was ready for another. So I left one and brought the bag home.

My mother never got to ask for a 2nd pack, and she never got to go in for the last fitting of her new set of teeth. They were ready, but she never even got to see them or try them out.

So anyway...I have these prunes now, and yet another memory of my mother. Just like with rainbow sherbert, prunes will never be the same to me again.

*Sigh*

Let the DIALOGUE begin: Is there anything "unusual" that triggers memories of one of your loved ones who's no longer here?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Say Cheese!

The older I get, the more lessons I seem to be learning. I'm beginning to find it quite interesting.

Today's lesson came via the birth of a friend's first grandchild.

This morning, on my way to work my I saw my friend's status update letting us know that the mother-to-be's water had broken and labor had begun. "How exciting!", I thought to myself, "the baby will be here soon."

Later this morning came the anticipated announcement...the baby was HERE. Again, I found myself being excited as if I had a relational connection to this precious little one.

Later still, came the first photo. "Ohhh", I uttered out loud. Such a blessing!

Then came more photos. My reaction was the same for all.

At some point I realized just how incredibly amazing it must be for someone who is born today, or even 5 years ago with all of the advancements of technology, and Facebook.

Take this little one for example.

Years from now, and even longer as long as Facebook stays around, he will be able to look back on his very first day here on earth. I mean, like MINUTES after his arrival...he'll be able to see that. And every monumental event hereafter...those will all be chronicled in some form of digital technology for him to pass on to his children, and their children, etc. What a blessing!

I even have another friend who started a Facebook page for her granddaughter on the day the granddaughter was born, and updates it with pictures of the baby girl who is now two years old. Can you imagine?!?

I wish I were as blessed.

Unfortunately, I was born in a time when photos were taken, developed, and typically stored away in a photo album. As a result, I have only 5 photos from my childhood (if even that many).

It's not that photos were'nt taken of me. Oh, there were plenty. Especially being the first grandchild, and living with my grandparents for the earliest years of my life...there were albums upon albums of my photos. But they're gone now.

You see, they were all kept at my grandparents home. Made sense to me. That's where they had always been and it never dawned on me to get them, at least not while my grandparents were alive. As long as THEY were here, my photos were safe.

Sadly, my beloved grandmother (who was also my very first best friend) passed away 23 years ago.

One year after my grandmother's passing, my grandfather remarried...a witch.

I never liked her. Ever. There was something about her "spirit" that my "Spirit" did not agree with. But for my grandfather's sake, I tolerated her and "behaved" as my grandparents would put it.

Well...fast forward to my grandfather's passing.

As if losing him wasn't bad enough, we were left to deal with the witch.

Not only did she clean our family out of any inheritance that my grandfather left for his children (which he did leave, and she TOOK), but she no longer allowed us in the house (that my grandfather bought for my GRANDMOTHER), therefore eliminating the ability to go through and get anything of value to us...even those things having only SENTIMENTAL value...like MY CHILDHOOD PHOTOS.

I don't know what she's done with them. Thrown them away? Maybe. Burned them? Probably. Either way...I don't have them and I greatly wish that I did.

Had I been born in this day and age, none of that would be a factor. They'd all be neatly stored in cyberspace for all eternity available to me whenever I chose to enjoy them.

Interestingly, as I searched for a photo to include with today's post, I couldn't find a single one that conveyed what I wanted. You see, a picture truly is worth a thousand words, but in this case, since I couldn't find a picture we'll just have to go with the words.

Let the DIALOGUE begin: How old is the OLDEST photo that you have of yourself?

Talk to me!

Til next time...