I’m back in Delaware, and while most of the sights and smells are right and good…there is no strawberry pie. Which is tragic. That’s what happens when grandmom moves into an assisted living home, I suppose. It’s probably best for my ever-expanding midsection, but not so great for nostalgia’s sake.
On the other hand, I get to stay with my aunt and uncle in a nice queen bed from this decade, so that’s a plus. And I went and bought a bag of cookies to stash under said nice queen-sized bed so as not to tempt them from their Weight Watchers regime, but still get my refined sugar fix.
My grandmother is as feisty as ever, and still interested in playing bridge, but she’s more forgetful than I have ever seen her, and more tired. She still gave me a hard time for leaving even though she was falling asleep for her afternoon nap. And apparently ratted me out to my aunt that “she knows I have a busy social life and need to see my friends,” even though I explained to her I have to work on this trip, and had to get back to for a conference call. Nothing like a little guilt to make you feel right at home.
Still, the weather’s warm and we had a yummy summertime rainstorm this afternoon. I love warm rain. If it rains in Colorado, it gets really cold. I’m seeing my friend and her new baby for dinner tonight (grandmom wasn’t totally wrong about my social calendar) and quite likely driving through the old Dairy Queen on the way home. And maybe past my old house. Then I need to figure out the rules to cribbage, because my forgetful grandmom is kicking my ass at bridge.
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3 comments:
No strawberry pie?? You poor thing.
Ah, grandma's and their guilt.....just spent the evening with mine. :) Sad to hear that you didn't get your strawberry pie!
your grandma sounds a lot like mine, minus the card games...
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