she was the last of my grandparents, and i suppose it's common to have them gone by 35, but still somehow it feels too soon to me.
my grandma was a quintessential farm wife: sturdy, resilient, warm. capable. she knew her way around a sweet roll and a sewing machine. she remembered everyone's favorite pie. she was quick to laugh at herself, worked hard and expected the same from us, brought my brothers and me the tiny eggs from the chicken house, loved to read.
she was funny and opinionated and i miss her already.
on the flip side, my gorgeous little niece arrived last week. kinsley katherine. pretty sure i could inhale her warm squeaky babyness for all the rest of ever.
and this is neither here nor there, but i was downright floored by the valentine box my zee just constructed. the kiddos make these boxes to collect valentines at school, and usually they consult my creative expertise, but zee is very eleven and Full Of His Own Ideas.
his initial plan was to hollow out a log, but as we're not exactly big on wood hewing skills in our family, i thought this route could end badly. so his second plan was to scrape pieces of bark and moss from our woodpile out back and glue them to an oatmeal container. i wasn't exactly encouraging (i believe my exact words were i'm not sure how well that's going to work), but luckily he is not easily dissuaded, because take a gander at this:
i know, right? that thing is beautiful. he should never listen to me again. except for mostly he should, but clearly not that time.
anyhow, the silver lining to losing grandma is my parents and brothers will fly in from oahu tomorrow. i think the last time we have all been together (in our full-bloomed craziness) is four years back. it'll be good to have them near again.
thankful today for:
206. rhubarb pie
208. friends who help you pick out ties
209. cheryl, who cries with me
210. girl scout cookies
211. mom owens, who bolsters with words and prayer (and the milano cookies don't hurt either)
212. the way a solid night's sleep can change my vision
213. peace enough for this day