Papa’s Waffles

I’m having waffles in the morning made by my husband.  I know that because our little granddaughter is spending the night with us and she always wants Papa’s waffles for breakfast.  When we go to bed she gives Papa her “cutie” smile and in her “cutie” voice she asks:  

Papa, will you fix waffles in the morning?

Of course he will.  He is such a pushover for that smile and that voice.

I love maple syrup with my waffles with lots and lots of butter.  But my granddaughter calls for grape jelly on her waffles.

After breakfast we will read some books.  And she will insist on reading a Bubble Guppies book.

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Her mother brought this book a few years ago for us to read together.  It is really more a “look and find”  book than a book to read.  She has long outgrown the book as she now reads chapter books well above her grade.

When she first started outgrowing the book she still liked us to do the “look and find” for fun.  I began to get tired of it and tried to encourage her to read other books more in line with her growing knowledge.

My protests became a game and now she always brings this book out with the other books she can read.  We have this conversation:

Me:  No, I am not reading that book again.

She:  Yes we are.

Me:  You are too big for this and I am sick and tired of it.

She:  Yes we are.

Me:  I hate this book

She:  Yes we are.

We argue back and forth until we are both laughing too much to even read.

When we downsized recently to move into a smaller house, I took a lot of her books that she had long outgrown to the local library and bought some new books.  But somehow I just could not give that book away.

I can see us when she is graduating from high school still arguing over reading that book.

Me:  You are graduating from high school.  It is time to quit reading this book.

She:  Yes we are.

Me:  I have done this for years and it’s time to stop.

She:  Yes we are.

Me:  I’m sick of this book.

She:  Yes we are.

And, of course, we will.

Saying Goodbye to Lizzie

That time has come!

That time when I realize that I do not want to spend the last years of my life dusting all the “stuff” I have accumulated over the years.

That time when I realize I do not want to spend the last years of my life cleaning floors in rooms I no longer need or use.

That time when I realize I do not want to wash windows in rooms I no longer need or use.

In other words, the time has come to downsize!

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Posting items on local swap sites I have been a little unsure as people purchased my “stuff” and the house has become more empty each day.  But after a few items were gone, my house suddenly felt so much bigger and so much less cluttered.  As each item sells I begin to feel like a weight has been removed from my shoulder.

I have had little trouble parting from the extra furniture, the deep freeze I was no longer using, the extra bedroom furniture I no longer need.

But when it came to looking through my many bookshelves filled with books, I must confess I have had a moment of sorrow.  Over the years I have collected biographies of presidents, first ladies, and people who played a role in our American history such as our founding fathers (and mothers), senators, generals and other famous political persons.  All of them I have read at least once – and most two or three times.  It is like saying goodbye to old, dear friends.

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But one item I am parting with has little or no resale value.  I would probably have a hard time even giving it to anyone except for someone who knows its history and loves it too.

It is my garden frog, Lizzie.

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Named after my grandmother, Martha Elizabeth, this little cement frog stood guard in my Grandmother’s garden for years.  Grandma loved flowers.  When I was a little girl I loved the plants in her yard  with their big beautiful green leaves that looked like their name “elephant ears.”

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Remembering her elephant ears plants perhaps that is why I have loved my hosta garden because of the huge leaves many of these plants have.DSCF0046

Grandma slowly lost her eyesight to glaucoma and had to get rid of her flowers.  That was a sad day for her.

I am not even sure how I came to the be the grandchild that got Grandma’s frog.  But I have treasured it.

One reason is that I inherited her love of flowers and I feel a connection to her through the flower garden and little Lizzie.

But also because Grandma was the only one of my grandparents who I felt loved me.  Grandpa (her husband) had died years before I was born so I never had the chance to know him.  My other grandparents never showed me any sign of affection.  I cannot remember ever getting a hug or hearing them say they loved me.  Going to their house my parents always told me to say hello to them and then go sit down and be very quiet.

But my flower grandma always made me feel not only loved, but special.  Like her I was a redhead and she was proud of that.  As she began to lose her eyesight she would have me stand in the doorway where the sun would shine on my hair so she could see the red hair.  She also had me played the piano for her when I came over.  Just learning how to play, I am not sure how good it really was but Grandma always praised me.

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But in downsizing to a smaller home with a smaller yard, I will no longer have a place for Lizzie.

So what to do with Lizzie?

Perfect answer:  my daughter, Rebekah.  She, like Grandma and like me, loves flowers and gardens.  While I will miss Lizzie, I am content knowing she will be loved and treasured by the fourth generation.

Enjoy your new home, Lizzie!