Cooking up memories

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For many people, regardless of age, their memories of Grandma have her firmly positioned in the kitchen, cooking and baking up goodies that will forever hold a place in the hearts and tastebuds of her grandchildren.

I don't have such memories. I don't recall a single dish made by either of my grandmothers. I'm certain they cooked and baked and canned and did all those other culinary things grandmas do, but I don't remember any of it. I don't remember the taste, the aroma, the aprons worn, the utensils stirring, the old-fashioned appliances whirring.

My one and only food-related memory of a grandmother is the billions of blueberries my siblings and cousins and I would pick for my grandma on my dad's side, handfuls of them dropped into plastic ice cream pails alternated with handfuls of berry goodness popped into my mouth when I thought no one was looking. I clearly recall the buckets upon buckets of berries, yet I remember not a single instance of eating any blueberry goodies once the buckets were turned over to Grandma.

I want things to be different for my grandchildren. I want Bubby -- and Birdy and all others to come -- to have cherished memories of my cooking, my baking, my physical manifestations of love and adoration served up every time we were together.

I want my grandchildren to think of Gramma each time they smell cookies baking in the oven, each time they spread their peanut-butter sandwiches with jelly, each time they order macaroni-and-cheese from their favorite diner.

Bubby is not yet three years old. In those few years, we've been fortunate to share food and fun in the kitchen. I've had him help me bake chocolate-chip cookies. I've gifted him with my Christmas Spritz. I've treated him to jars of my homemade pomegranate jelly. And together we made dinner mints for Thanksgiving.

Thankfully, there's more to come soon. In exactly two weeks I'll be spending five days in the desert with Bubby. While there, I plan to bake for him my version of his current favorite dish: a super-easy, extra-cheesy macaroni and cheese.

For the visit, I've purchased a special grandma apron to throw into my Grandma Bag, and I'm mentally compiling a list of other goodies from my reportoire Bubby might enjoy while I'm there.

As a grandma who remembers very little of her own grandmothers, I say it's never too soon to start cooking up some memories.

Consider the cooking begun.

Today's question:

What food do you most associate with your grandmother?

A guffaw and a new feature

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All kids say cute things now and then. But sometimes the things they say are not only cute, they're downright hilarious.

Such is the case of a conversation between this week's Grilled Grandma, Gail, and one of her grandsons, which she shared in response to my question, "Describe a recent time that one (or more) of your grandchildren made you laugh out loud." Gail said:

One asked, "What is a prostitute?" I had to wallow that around a little and then answered, "When a lady makes a gentleman happy for money instead of for fun."  He said, "Oh, I thought it was a wooden leg!"

I'm not one for doing the whole "LOL" thing, but that one truly did make me laugh out loud when I read it. What I wonder is how in the world he thought such a thing. Maybe "prostitute" and "prosthetic" sound very similar in a little boy's head? Maybe?

Grilled Grandma: Gail offers up plenty more laughs, so prepare to LOL, ROFL, LMAO or whatever it is you do when confronted with online chuckles ... or snickers ... or flat-out guffaws. Don't hesitate to give Gail a smile in return -- by letting her know what you thought of her grilling. Comment love is always much appreciated here on Grandma's Briefs, especially for the lovely women who allow me to grill them.

NEW FEATURE: Once you're done LOLing, I urge you to take a look at the new feature I debut today on Grandma's Briefs. It's called News to Use.

As you can see on the navigation tabs at the top of this page, a News to Use page has replaced the Quotable Grandmas page (right next to the Grilled Grandmas tab). News to Use is where you'll find, as noted on that page, the "best-of-the-best ideas, activities, and info I glean from websites, blogs, magazines and more." Sometimes the news will be serious, sometimes fun, but always, I'm hoping, useful. I'll add News to Use tidbits as I come across them, so be sure to sign up for the News to Use RSS feed so you'll be the first to know when there are new tidbits to peruse, new news to use.

Oh, and for those two people who regularly read the Quotable Grandmas, I've not deleted it ... just moved it to the shadows of the site for now. You can find it right HERE.

Today's question:

What is the funniest book you've ever read?

Get a grip

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Bubby has clearly decided that ears are not only for listening, they make fantastic handles for holding on to during shoulder rides.

I'm wondering how long it'll take before he decides ears also make great grips for dragging baby brother Birdy around the house.

Now that I think about it, I'm even more curious to see how long it will take before he decides to drag Birdy around in this:

Things are gearing up to be quite interesting for Megan and Preston considering the many adventures of Bubby and Birdy to come!

Today's question:

What are you working to get a grip on today? A project at work or home? An issue with friends or family ... or yourself?

Ring of ire

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Jim and I were married very young. In fact, I was so young, my dad had to sign my life away for me in order for us to obtain a marriage license.

Being married so young means I missed out on learning many of the things young single women learn early on in adulthood. One of those things, a skill I've noticed of late I'm seriously lacking, is the ability to reflexively scan the left hand of those of the opposite sex immediately upon meeting them to see if there's a wedding ring.

I didn't learn to do that. I've never had reason to do it, never did it enough -- ever, actually -- for it to become a conscious or unconscious part of my getting-to-know-you ritual upon meeting someone new. Yes, it's lately become all too clear to me that if I were a dog, I'd surely be a lonely one as the whole sniffing out of potential mates simply and surely is not a part of my makeup.

And why should it be? I have Jim ... have for pert near 30 years ... so there's no reason for me to scan the hands of men.

But I've found in the last few weeks that my lack of ring-searching ability is a detriment -- especially when it comes to sniffing out potential mates for my single daughters. (Shh...don't tell them; they don't know I do that.)

Just last week a charming young man, part of the team that cleaned my chimney, spent enough time in my home and enough time making interesting small talk with me that afterwards I thought, "Hmmm...that's the kind of kid I would sure be happy to have as a son-in-law."

When I told Jim about him, he asked me if the young man was married.

"How the heck am I supposed to know?" I replied indignantly. "I'm not so desperate for a decent mate for my daughters stupid as to come out and ask such a thing."

"Well, was he wearing a ring?" Jim asked, as if he's so cussing smart.

Oh ... a ring. I never looked. Honestly, it never even crossed my mind to look.

It never crosses my mind to look at the left hands of women, either. Which wouldn't normally be an issue because, like I said, I am married ... and straight. But Jim and I have been trying to figure out if one particular couple at church -- a couple we've been loosely acquainted with for years, a couple about our same age, who have been married about as long we have and have kids near the same age as ours -- are, sadly, separated, possibly getting a divorce. They're never seen together anymore, and Jim insists there's a problem; I insist the husband likely just works on Sundays and can't make it to church.

"Is she still wearing her wedding ring?" he asked yesterday, again playing the smart guy.

We both spied out of the corner of our eyes while singing. Yes, she's still wearing her ring.

After getting no clear answer on the divorce question, Jim and I returned whole hog to the singing and praising and all those other things you do at church. Until he leaned over and nudged me.

"Hey, she's got a ring on her finger," he whispered, nodding toward the young woman in front of us, a gal we've known for some time, who was sitting mighty close to her new beau.

"That doesn't mean anything. People wear rings on that finger all the time," I whispered back.

He shrugged like a smartcuss who has a secret.

I leaned over and whispered quite forcefully, "That's why it's called <ahem> a ring finger."

Ha! Now who's the smarty pants?

I'm just crossing my fingers now, hoping that next time we see her dad he doesn't announce that his little girl is engaged. If he does, I'm pretty sure Jim's sure-to-follow smirk will make me want to smack him.

Or take the ring off my ring finger and throw it at him.

On second thought, maybe I won't throw my ring at him. For with an empty ring finger, I may be immediately dubbed a single woman by those quick-on-the-draw folks who check for such things.

And Lord knows I would completely cuss at being a single woman ... because I'm so darn handicapped at sniffing out potential mates.

Photo: follmann/stock.xchng

Today's question:

How many rings do you typically wear on an average day?