Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Travel-Phobia

Every time I hear people rave about exotic vacations, cross country road trips or dream of a retirement filled with travel, I shudder, thinking how I would much rather bloom where I am planted.  As the saying goes, "different strokes for different folks" because some will always yearn to see what they have not seen and I will always wonder why they are so anxious to give up the comforts of home.

My favorite chair is always waiting to cuddle me, my coffee pot produces a consistent quality that cannot be duplicated and thoughts of airports make me cringe. Long car trips make my joints beg for relief, so transportation to the lands I have not seen is a major hurdle.  Anyway, hotels rarely have a comfortable chair and it is just too much work to find a snack at 2am when you don't have the candy stash in the drawer waiting.  Among the comforts of home, my best buddies Rocky and Josie cuddle beside me most of the time and I am sure they agree that our morning snuggle time is the absolute best.  With one Chihuahua on each side of me, even the coldest winter mornings feels warm.   I have actually come to the point in life where I really missed my dogs every day of my last vacation.  It takes a lot these days to convince me to leave home for longer than an afternoon.

This morning I thought about the fact that I am getting ready to drive 1224 miles this week to attend a 2 hour school event.     However, when a little boy has stolen your heart, you will drive to the ends of the earth, regardless of "travel-phobia".


This adorable little boy reached out and stole my heart on the morning he was born.  I remember the tears of joy running down my face as I held him, bonding instantly to the warm little bundle in my arms.  I had already learned that grandchildren are God's surprise gifts.  You assume nothing can equal the love of your own child, until you hold that first grandchild.  Tate was number 6 and I knew from experience what a gift he would become.

I have been called Junkfood Grandma and I had to learn that Tate preferred broccoli to my never ending stash of candy.  I could however make him smile with waffles and "Grammy Syrup".   He preferred a good game of cards to the latest video game and was delighted with a blank notebook and a pencil.  I watched him make lists in his notebooks and had more fun than he did when I found a new notebook to give him.

His sense of humor can send him and you into fits of giggles when you least expect it and the twinkle in his eye comes through in every photo.  The best part of being Tate's Grandma is the moment when he runs through the door yelling "Grammy!!!!"

 Although Hallmark has invented every kind of holiday, the teacher who thought of Grandparents Day deserves a hug.    I have been honored to attend these events for 2 other grandchildren and those afternoons  absolutely beat seeing the Grand Canyon or Buckingham Palace.   There is nothing better than the face of your special little one as he shows off his artwork or sings a song he has practiced just for you.

 So, my bags are packed and I am just waiting to open the car door and hear...."Grammy!!!"







In My Dreams


It is truly Spring when I think about freshly turned earth, ready for neat little rows of eggplant, zucchini, green pepper and tomato plants.  Every year about this time, I envision my perfect little garden.  Then I wake up and remember that I absolutely cannot turn that earth, much less rake it out.  I really like to fantasize and dream of beautiful raised beds, built in tiers and adding to the landscape of my perfect yard.  Some days I wonder if I bought a book and learned how it is done, if I could actually do it.

There is magic in picking that perfect vegetable and eating it within the hour and although I have had the garden and eaten the perfect tomato,  it did not look like something that graced the cover of a gardening magazine.    The day we were closing on our mortgage, I glanced at the deed and realized the land had once been part of Eaton Rapids famous Miller's Dairy farm.   Thanks to years of cows depositing their manure in my yard and you can literally throw a seed out the back door and watch it grow.

The down side to this is that I have 1/4 acre of constant growth.  The hedges that frame our property are so high that it might take a bucket truck to trim them this year.    Flower beds quickly fill with weeds that should be part of a science fiction movie.  Rose bushes seem to grow overnight until pruning could be done almost daily.  I look at the bush outside the door and remember scattering the petals down the aisle for Cat's wedding.  They are beautiful, but whatever is planted will quickly demand my attention daily.

Since no one in this house feels the urge to commune with nature, I have 2 choices.  I can continue to dream or find someone in need of a few bucks to turn that earth.  I don't think I will kid myself about building tiered beds either.  Who am I kidding?  Turning on the saw would be dangerous for me.  Another day to wish my brother wasn't somewhere across the country.