Showing posts with label grandma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grandma. Show all posts

Friday, November 2, 2012

goodbye, grandbob

My Grandbob passed away a week ago yesterday. Let me explain what a Grandbob is, for those of (all of) you who don't have one:

A Grandbob is a gentle, loving, generous man whose first name is Bob and who marries your grandmother. Mine was around my whole life since we went to the same church, but he really burst onto the scene about 15 years ago, when he started dating and quickly proposed to my grandma. Hey, a Grandbob knows a good catch when he sees one.



Speaking of a good catch, a Grandbob likes fishing. He also enjoys golfing, playing Free Cell on the computer, watching sports on TV, and putting together jigsaw puzzles. It's relaxing and delightful to work on those jigsaw puzzles with him for an afternoon as he happens to be pleasant company.

A Grandbob can tenderize meat and chop a salad like nobody's business.

A Grandbob spoils one's grandmother, making sure she feels like a queen.

A Grandbob uses quick wit, like spouting one of his catchphrases - "It's getting deep in here" - when one's grandmother starts acting like the queen.

A Grandbob works hard his whole life only to give most of what he earns away to those he loves.

A Grandbob is willing to be very silly to get a laugh out of little ones.



A Grandbob will always be missed when he is gone, but those around him are okay with him leaving because a Grandbob loves Jesus above all. 

Here's to my Grandbob. I loved you very much, and I'm glad you're with Jesus. Say hi to Mudder for me, and don't get too sassy with each other up there.



Thursday, May 10, 2012

Guest Post - anything once: selling crafty wares at the swap meet


This guest post comes from my mother, who I will prattle on about on Sunday. 

I have always had a distinct propensity toward being a very crafty person. This is apparently a fruit that has been shaken from my family tree: my mother always had a “project in the works,” and my grandmother’s fingers pretty knit, crocheted, and tatted (yes, it IS a lost art) until her fingers wouldn’t work any longer. But underneath all the saved toilet paper rolls, pipe cleaners and pretty scraps of yarn, I have always wanted to sell my wares at “ye old craft faire.” Okay, there really isn’t a local “craft faire” here in California, but “ye old swap meet” just doesn’t quite have the crafting ring to it.

A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned to my mother, “Mother’s Day is coming up in two weeks and I would love to sell craft stuff at the swap meet,” and she quickly responded, “Let’s do it!” I ventured down on a weekend to the swap meet to make our $40.00 reservation. I was rewarded with a permit for a 10ft x 10ft stall that we could turn into an adorable Mother’s Day crafting oasis.

We proceeded to think of the swap meet as our personal crafting quest, crafting like CRAZY for those two weeks.  My mom made charming coin purses and she even made a “ring-keeper,” a latex glove stuffed with quilt batting and a ribbon with lace around the end of it. She made one as a test product and brought the “ingredients” with us to make more if they actually sold. I created a whole bouquet of BIC pens from the 99-cent store (10 pens for a dollar? Do you see profit in my future?), wrapped them with yarn and put a button on the end – soft, cute, funky, who wouldn’t have to have one of these for their beloved mother? I folded endless origami bookmarks and put together sweet gift bags of matches and smelly candles. We had such a precious array of inexpensive items starting at 50 cents and topping out at $3.00. We were sure to make billions of dollars.

The morning of our adventure, I picked up my mom and discovered we had both gotten up early almost as excited as any kid on Christmas morning. We came back to our house and my husband, Timmy, helped us pack up the pick-up, and we headed out to the swap meet. We had no idea what to expect, but we were in this together and regardless of the two week prep period we felt confident that all who saw our booth would feel sufficiently reminded or guilted into remembering their mom with the purchase of an item from this sweet little booth.



This single space booth, no matter how charming, was dwarfed against the backdrop of double-wide spaces exhibiting tool vendors, second-hand paraphernalia and knock-off name brand handbags and apparel. We felt tiny, mostly invisible, yet satisfied since we were not making a living from this. Every once in a while someone would come by and comment – “what a great idea” or “how adorable” – as they touched our handy crafts, smiled and possibly bought a little item. But most walked away. Parades of people came and went in a human wave as we pondered what we learned from this crafting excursion:


1.     Know your customers. If we had perused the event prior to being a participant, we might have noticed that there were NO other “crafters” in any of the aisles. (hmmm, good to know…)

2.     If possible, try not to be sandwiched between a booth that hides you completely and a booth that people will walk through YOURS to get to. (We got asked about prices for the merchandise next door many times throughout the day. If we’d been on commission it would have been great!)

3.     Attitude, attitude, attitude. Why were we there? To make money? Or to enjoy the lovely weather, people watch and maybe do something we’ve always wanted to do, with someone we love doing things with, for adventure?

Since we followed point three on this list and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, I would deem this “anything once” as a success so, we told each other to…

"Give yourself a hand!"
(Yes, those jokes were going ALL day and were an endless source of amusement.)

Thursday, April 26, 2012

the cheapest, best Christmas gifts ever

Jeff and I found out we were going to be parents in November 2010. Let me tell you - that is perfect timing as far as telling people the good news that a baby is en route is concerned. We decided to wait until Christmas to let our families know about Squirmy McGee (Eiley's pre-gender name). While this was mildly excruciating because we were hiding it from everyone until then, the payoff was outstanding.


We decided it would be fun to give the grandmas, grandpas, great-grandmas and Great-Grandbob photo albums as Christmas gifts. We wrote "Grandma's Little Monster" on the front (or Grandpa or whatever, you get the idea) and had Squirmy's sonogram on the inside. This did work out well, except these three things happened first:


1. We could not wait to tell my sister, who lived near us in Virginia. We were pretty freaked out when we first found out about the baby, so we needed someone to be purely excited for us. So Sissy didn't get a nice sonogram and photo album - she got the pee stick, gift wrapped. We invited her over, and I nonchalantly told her I'd picked up a gift for her because I saw it and had thought of her. (By the way, I'm surprised she fell for this. I'm just not that thoughtful.) She opened it, squealed with excitement, teared up, then realized exactly what she was looking at and said, oh, ew and, grimacing, set it down. It was touching.

2. We flew home to California on Christmas Eve and wanted to wait until gift opening that night to tell my parents. At our annual Denny's dinner that night (classy!), I had waited a smidge too long to eat so my first trimester body was starting to feel nauseated. I let Jeff know, and he sprung into action (it looked like he was running to call 911 for a heart attack victim) finding a pack of crackers for me to eat. After I explained his intense exit away with the fact that I had asked Jeff for some crackers, my mom teasingly said "Are you pregnant or something?" Jeff, Sissy and I just laughed nervously. I think I said some sarcastic yeaaaahs. The surprise was saved though, and she and my dad were sufficiently shocked that evening.

3. We placed my grandma and Grandbob's photo album at the bottom of their large stack of gifts at the big family Christmas gathering. We did not anticipate the fact that Grandma would take eons to get to it though. She loves opening gifts and watching others open theirs, so she was apparently relishing every moment while Jeff, Sissy and her husband, my parents and I anxiously looked on. But then this happened, and it's a memory that I'll vividly remember for the rest of my life:


That year, we spent a total of about $6 on photo albums and gave some of the best gifts we've ever given. We figured any additional gifts we might give would be forgotten and overshadowed by the fetus anyway. 

So, the moral of the story is obviously: Always get knocked up near Christmas. 

Friday, December 2, 2011

poorly written movie moments: part two

A husband and wife relax on a couch, exhausted after a day of travel. Their newborn flails and coos on the couch next to them, surrounded by her adoring great-grandmother, great-aunt, great-grandfather, and second cousin. The husband and wife close their eyes, just as baby's grandfather starts to play his guitar and grandmother sings a worship song. 




Hallmark movie? Lifetime? OWN? No, no, no. This little scene happened on Thanksgiving Day when everyone was meeting Eiley for the first time. I actually sat there thinking about how cheesy the whole scene was. How I would gag if I saw this in a Christian film. How my sister and I would mock it all. How Kirk Cameron should really be in the room, fawning over the baby with my grandma and singing with my mom. 


I might have teared up just a little bit because it also happened to be a completely genuine moment. And hey, I was jet lagged. Shut up about it.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

An Anecdote Starring Grandma Bradshaw

My Grandma Bradshaw is a sweet, gentle, soft-spoken woman. She recently came and visited, and this happened at the mall, where there was a new Fiat on display:


Me: Ooo, I love these cars. They're so cute!
Jeff: Actually, I really like them a lot too.
Grandma: What color would you like, Jeff?
Jeff: I would choose blue.
Grandma: And what color would you like, Emily?
Me: I'd like gray so I'd never have to wash it.
Grandma: Okay, sounds good. 
Me: Are you taking orders or something?
Grandma: Yes! And I'll give them to you if you come home for Christmas.


Brutal. This year we have Christmas in Idaho. Apparently Grandma Bradshaw is sweet, gentle, soft-spoken, and ever so mildly conniving. 


To get her back for that set up, here is a picture of her in Williamsburg. In a bonnet.


Of course, "getting her back" is less effective when she looks so stinkin' cute in the picture.