My grandest celebrated the last, hopefully, snow storm of 2013 by building the funniest snowman I’ve ever seen, twigs for arms, something nefarious for eyes and lipstick for a smiley mouth Then she ran to the basement, found her stash of summer stuff and came returned with two pails to fill with snow. Snow castles ringed the snowman already melting. With all the exuberance her five year old self could manage, she stomped all over the front yard. Suddenly she yelled, “Grans, I’ve got to show you something.” Always at her beck and call, what exactly does that mean and why. Anyone? I came running, no jacket but who cares. My grandest calls. “Look. I found three gorgeous purple flowers.” Yes, she said gorgeous. “Those are crocus, honey. The first flowers of spring. I planted them close to the house where it’s warmer. Soon more will blossom.” “Cool,” my blond beauty says and drags me from bush to bush, plant to plant to discuss horticulture and plans for trimming, digging and stuff.
You have to love your grand kids, folks. You have fun, teach the stuff their parents don’t have time for, say bye-bye and you don’t have to pay for college.