There is a reason we call them Grand (Margaret and Helen blog)

[Are_grits_groceries]

My grandmother made the best cinnamon rolls. As much as I try, I cannot repeat her perfection. She never really understood why I wanted a different kind of life than the one she had, but that didn’t seem to matter. She still made me cinnamon rolls every week.

The best tribute we can give to Barack Obama right now (in addition to our vote) is to remember our Grandmothers and why we love them.

Please share your favorite Grandmother memory below.

(And if you didn’t like your Grandmother this is not the place to share. Go write those memories on that horrible Dr. Laura’s website. I read somewhere that she didn’t like her grandmother either.)

Rest well Toot. You did a fine job. We’ll take it from here. I mean it. Really.

http://margaretandhelen.wordpress.com/

Give them a memory!

[But....]

1. Bread and butter pickles...

every fall you could smell them while walking up to the doorO8)

[Bunny]

2. My Grandmas gave us all the same gifts.

On our birthdays, Paternal Grandma gave each of us a card with two dollar bills in it. She did this every year until we were well into our teens. Maternal Grandma gave all of us a pair of socks for Christmas - boys got black dress socks, girls got navy blue knee socks. She also did this until we were in our teens. For some reason we found this highly amusing - we engaged in wild speculation each Christmas or birthday as to what our gift from Grandma could possibly be. :)

I miss both my grandmas.

[EmeraldCityGrl]

3. When my Grandmother came to visit she stayed in my room.

We stayed up half the night while she told me the stories of
her life growing up poor in Central City, KY. She wanted her granddaughters
to avoid the pitfalls she experienced by marrying too young and not having an
education.

She made the best fried chicken and chicken pot pies.
She always smelled of Dove soap and Prell shampoo.

[Are_grits_groceries]

4. We called my maternal grandmother "Grandy."

She was a petite woman who never had a harsh word to say. One day she and my Mama and one of my aunts were on the back stoop
preparing chickens for dinner. That involved pulling pinfeathers and it is tedious work. Right when they were finished, my uncle
walked up and handed them some ducks that needed to be plucked. Mama said that ducks were the worst because of down and whatnot.
Grandy looked at my uncle and said,"I'll be shot with shit and killed for stinking." Mama said they almost rolled off the stoop laughing.
I have never heard that phrase again, and I laugh just thinking about her saying it.