More “Shorts” - July 13, 2019
Snort
My 97 year old Mom – who still lives in the family home - likes to make her own breakfast. OK, she likes to do everything by her own steam. I get that. But occasionally she softens her stance on this. Like this weekend.
Her favourite-grandson-named-Tom and favourite-great-grandson-named-Jasper arrived on Saturday, just as Mom was about to make her breakfast. Tom offered to do it. There are only two people that know how to make her breakfast just right. Julie – Tom’s wife, but Julie was in Toronto starting the packing for their move to St. Catharines. And May (not her real name) who is Mom’s beloved home helper. May only comes on Tuesday and Friday.
No worries, Tom can follow instructions and his Granny Marj gave him detailed instructions about how much water, oatmeal, bran buds and honey to mix together. And how long to microwave it. 2:42 minutes! (Both of my parents were very exact people – I’m obviously a mutant.) She even let Tom pour the milk on it and bring it to her. Yay Tom! Yay Mom!
Sunday morning Laur and I were at GM’s and it was her breakfast time. Laur – not to be outdone by his upstart son – offered to make Mom’s breakfast. GM reluctantly agreed. “Got to be fair and equal to all my kids!” is her motto. Laur faithfully followed all her instructions and then pulled the oatmeal breakfast out of the microwave. Something didn’t look right. It looked rather like cement.
Laur reviewed the ingredients and realized that instead of putting in a handful of bran buds, he’d put in a handful of ground flax seed. Now you need to know that two tablespoons of ground flax mixed into a cup of water is enough to bind together an entire loaf. The rough equivalent of six tablespoons into one small bowl of oatmeal?
He offered it to her anyway and both Mom and I thought this would not be a good idea. He offered to dump it into the garbage and Mom suggested he flush it down the toilet. Laur said, “Marjorie, I’m really afraid this is going to clog up your plumbing!” He was being serious.
I said, “Wait a minute. You worry that this is going to kill my Mom’s plumbing but you were encouraging her to eat it!?”
As Laur chiselled the bowl-shaped brick into the toilet, giving us a play by play of what was happening, my Mom and I were laughing so hard that we were snorting.
He said, “I bet this is going to show up in a Sunshine story!” And then he went off to make a second bowl. This time with the right ingredients. But Mom insisted on pouring her own cow’s milk in. Had Laur accidentally poured in our soya milk, it’d be close to lunch time before the third attempt was ready! 😊
*****
Food Court
Our Sudbury kid Caro posted this episode on face book…
“Be me at a restaurant for lunch_____
Small child in yellow dress standing very close to me out of the corner of my eye_____
Me, refusing to look, getting angrier and angrier that this kid is just here watching me
Turn_____
I have been angry at a Wet Floor sign for ten minutes.......”
I replied, “You sound like your Dad!” I was referred to a recent incident at the library where Dad was getting upset that there were knitters sitting in the room talking out loud. Turns out, he was intruding on the Friday Knit-A-Bit meeting.
Caro replied, 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣YOU'RE RIGHT! RIGHT DOWN TO REFUSING TO TURN AROUND!
Laur replied, “Sounds like a story. Especially when the yellow sign giggles weirdly and scuttles away....”
*****
Cut Short
I tell my hubs he should “never go down to the edge of town” if he doesn’t go down with me. (From the poem “James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree” by A. A Milne.) But does he listen? No! On Tuesday he went for a 39 km bike ride without me. Again! I won’t describe the entire ride – you can read about it on his face book page. But one section I found very interesting.
“Once at St. David’s I headed west on Queenston Road, heading for the Homer Bridge across the Canal. Cyclists have to walk their bikes across, and this was a good idea today. The Homer Bridge is a “bascule” bridge, where two sections rise up from the centre. As I started out onto the lift bridge proper the siren sounded signalling the bridge was about to lift. I hightailed it back to the solid section just before the barriers were lowered. Whew! I searched around for the boat. I hadn’t seen one when I started over. There was still no sign of one. I took a 360 degree video. No boat. The bridge stopped about halfway up, and then, sure enough, started coming back down. Siren sounded; barriers lifted. All clear. Huh? Makes you wonder just how reliable these computer controlled bridges are…”
Little does he know I bribed the person who runs the computer-controlled bridges with a Tim’s card. 😊 No, I wasn’t jealous… OK, maybe halfway jealous.
*****
Sport
I love all of our Grands for many reasons. Emma puts me in mind of Anna – always has a book on the go and prefers her own company. (Also reminds me of my hubs.) Jasper’s attachment to his mom and his winning smile – that was Tommy at that age. Sweet Grand nephew Nate is shy at first and talking for him is hard work – much like my Dad.
Grand nephew Manny and Grand niece Vivie – on the other hand – remind me of Laur and me. For them, eating is an Olympic sport. We get to visit with them on Wednesday mornings while Nate has speech lessons (and he will soon be a little chatterbox just like – well, I won’t say who.) Last Wednesday when they arrived it was just in time for second breakfast. Manny had his cheese and jam sandwich. (Try it. It’s great!) Vivie had her peanut butter.
And then we went to GoodLife and the Grands went to childminding. Manny always speeds off to make new friends and find his pals from last week. But Vivie always gets the snack I have packed, and heads to the snack table. As I was leaving, I heard one of her child minders say to her, “Vivie, one of those cheese n cracker packs is for Manny.”
As we were leaving GoodLife – walking along the sidewalk and heading to the van – Manny pulls out the remaining half of his sandwich. This time their Mom, Tammy, had packed cheese and jam for Manny and just plain cheese for Vivie. Manny takes a bite and says, “Vivie, did you eat my sandwich?” She grins. And Manny just says, “OK” and eats what’s left. No muss, no fuss. (Laur and I always covet other people’s leftovers. We just don’t usually have the nerve to help ourselves.)
[Ed. Well at least SHE covets…]
Our kids and our grandkids adore my Mom, Granny Marj, and “Granny’s House” has always been a magical place for them. The first time daughter Elaine was allowed to have summer holidays at Mom’s, she woke up exclaiming, “I’m at Granny’s house! I’m at Granny’s house!”
Emma always has big hugs and lots of thanks for GM. And Jasper hugs and kisses Mom repeatedly as he is leaving. Mom will not likely get to meet Manny, Nate, and Viv in person – but will always have a sweet video of the three of them saying, “Hi Granny Marj!”
Grandpa Bob (who passed in 2000) and Granny Marj had two kids and now have eight Grands when you include our Grand nephews and niece. My brother Jim and sis-in-law Dorothy have three delightful Grands: Gaelle – child of firstborn granddaughter Sarah, Oliver first great grandson, and Zoe Marjorie – Mom’s namesake. Mom thinks Z-Marj is going to be a force to be reckoned with!
A very good return on GM’s investment of love and laughter.
My 97 year old Mom – who still lives in the family home - likes to make her own breakfast. OK, she likes to do everything by her own steam. I get that. But occasionally she softens her stance on this. Like this weekend.
Her favourite-grandson-named-Tom and favourite-great-grandson-named-Jasper arrived on Saturday, just as Mom was about to make her breakfast. Tom offered to do it. There are only two people that know how to make her breakfast just right. Julie – Tom’s wife, but Julie was in Toronto starting the packing for their move to St. Catharines. And May (not her real name) who is Mom’s beloved home helper. May only comes on Tuesday and Friday.
No worries, Tom can follow instructions and his Granny Marj gave him detailed instructions about how much water, oatmeal, bran buds and honey to mix together. And how long to microwave it. 2:42 minutes! (Both of my parents were very exact people – I’m obviously a mutant.) She even let Tom pour the milk on it and bring it to her. Yay Tom! Yay Mom!
Sunday morning Laur and I were at GM’s and it was her breakfast time. Laur – not to be outdone by his upstart son – offered to make Mom’s breakfast. GM reluctantly agreed. “Got to be fair and equal to all my kids!” is her motto. Laur faithfully followed all her instructions and then pulled the oatmeal breakfast out of the microwave. Something didn’t look right. It looked rather like cement.
Laur reviewed the ingredients and realized that instead of putting in a handful of bran buds, he’d put in a handful of ground flax seed. Now you need to know that two tablespoons of ground flax mixed into a cup of water is enough to bind together an entire loaf. The rough equivalent of six tablespoons into one small bowl of oatmeal?
He offered it to her anyway and both Mom and I thought this would not be a good idea. He offered to dump it into the garbage and Mom suggested he flush it down the toilet. Laur said, “Marjorie, I’m really afraid this is going to clog up your plumbing!” He was being serious.
I said, “Wait a minute. You worry that this is going to kill my Mom’s plumbing but you were encouraging her to eat it!?”
As Laur chiselled the bowl-shaped brick into the toilet, giving us a play by play of what was happening, my Mom and I were laughing so hard that we were snorting.
He said, “I bet this is going to show up in a Sunshine story!” And then he went off to make a second bowl. This time with the right ingredients. But Mom insisted on pouring her own cow’s milk in. Had Laur accidentally poured in our soya milk, it’d be close to lunch time before the third attempt was ready! 😊
*****
Food Court
Our Sudbury kid Caro posted this episode on face book…
“Be me at a restaurant for lunch_____
Small child in yellow dress standing very close to me out of the corner of my eye_____
Me, refusing to look, getting angrier and angrier that this kid is just here watching me
Turn_____
I have been angry at a Wet Floor sign for ten minutes.......”
I replied, “You sound like your Dad!” I was referred to a recent incident at the library where Dad was getting upset that there were knitters sitting in the room talking out loud. Turns out, he was intruding on the Friday Knit-A-Bit meeting.
Caro replied, 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣YOU'RE RIGHT! RIGHT DOWN TO REFUSING TO TURN AROUND!
Laur replied, “Sounds like a story. Especially when the yellow sign giggles weirdly and scuttles away....”
*****
Cut Short
I tell my hubs he should “never go down to the edge of town” if he doesn’t go down with me. (From the poem “James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree” by A. A Milne.) But does he listen? No! On Tuesday he went for a 39 km bike ride without me. Again! I won’t describe the entire ride – you can read about it on his face book page. But one section I found very interesting.
“Once at St. David’s I headed west on Queenston Road, heading for the Homer Bridge across the Canal. Cyclists have to walk their bikes across, and this was a good idea today. The Homer Bridge is a “bascule” bridge, where two sections rise up from the centre. As I started out onto the lift bridge proper the siren sounded signalling the bridge was about to lift. I hightailed it back to the solid section just before the barriers were lowered. Whew! I searched around for the boat. I hadn’t seen one when I started over. There was still no sign of one. I took a 360 degree video. No boat. The bridge stopped about halfway up, and then, sure enough, started coming back down. Siren sounded; barriers lifted. All clear. Huh? Makes you wonder just how reliable these computer controlled bridges are…”
Little does he know I bribed the person who runs the computer-controlled bridges with a Tim’s card. 😊 No, I wasn’t jealous… OK, maybe halfway jealous.
*****
Sport
I love all of our Grands for many reasons. Emma puts me in mind of Anna – always has a book on the go and prefers her own company. (Also reminds me of my hubs.) Jasper’s attachment to his mom and his winning smile – that was Tommy at that age. Sweet Grand nephew Nate is shy at first and talking for him is hard work – much like my Dad.
Grand nephew Manny and Grand niece Vivie – on the other hand – remind me of Laur and me. For them, eating is an Olympic sport. We get to visit with them on Wednesday mornings while Nate has speech lessons (and he will soon be a little chatterbox just like – well, I won’t say who.) Last Wednesday when they arrived it was just in time for second breakfast. Manny had his cheese and jam sandwich. (Try it. It’s great!) Vivie had her peanut butter.
And then we went to GoodLife and the Grands went to childminding. Manny always speeds off to make new friends and find his pals from last week. But Vivie always gets the snack I have packed, and heads to the snack table. As I was leaving, I heard one of her child minders say to her, “Vivie, one of those cheese n cracker packs is for Manny.”
As we were leaving GoodLife – walking along the sidewalk and heading to the van – Manny pulls out the remaining half of his sandwich. This time their Mom, Tammy, had packed cheese and jam for Manny and just plain cheese for Vivie. Manny takes a bite and says, “Vivie, did you eat my sandwich?” She grins. And Manny just says, “OK” and eats what’s left. No muss, no fuss. (Laur and I always covet other people’s leftovers. We just don’t usually have the nerve to help ourselves.)
[Ed. Well at least SHE covets…]
Our kids and our grandkids adore my Mom, Granny Marj, and “Granny’s House” has always been a magical place for them. The first time daughter Elaine was allowed to have summer holidays at Mom’s, she woke up exclaiming, “I’m at Granny’s house! I’m at Granny’s house!”
Emma always has big hugs and lots of thanks for GM. And Jasper hugs and kisses Mom repeatedly as he is leaving. Mom will not likely get to meet Manny, Nate, and Viv in person – but will always have a sweet video of the three of them saying, “Hi Granny Marj!”
Grandpa Bob (who passed in 2000) and Granny Marj had two kids and now have eight Grands when you include our Grand nephews and niece. My brother Jim and sis-in-law Dorothy have three delightful Grands: Gaelle – child of firstborn granddaughter Sarah, Oliver first great grandson, and Zoe Marjorie – Mom’s namesake. Mom thinks Z-Marj is going to be a force to be reckoned with!
A very good return on GM’s investment of love and laughter.