Free Underpants

I forgot to tell you:

Grandma and I were walking around the intimates department in JC Penny, and we passed some underwear for sale. It was a set of briefs that were pastel, satin, and full coverage. Super full coverage. Think almost to the waist and straight across the top of the legs.

G-ma points to them and says, "What size underwear to you take?"

Uhhhh.....

"I bought some just like this but they are too big, maybe they would fit you."

Hmmm...

1) What 28 year old woman would want to wear her G-ma's underwear?

2) I wear garments. Which, really, have more fabric than the satin set in question, but that's not really the point. Doesn't she know about garments? Maybe she forgot. I don't mind that.

I had been racking my brain for a way to get out of this, and so I said, "Oh, I don't like this style. Too high at the waist."

And, somehow, that got her to drop the topic.

Anyway, we still have a three pack of Grandma underpants hanging around if you know of anyone who wants them.

Grandma, because it's been too long

It was Father's idea to gift Grandma a day of driving her around. It sounded like a pretty good Christmas present, seeing how I love shopping, she loves shopping, and also I couldn't find the pickled peaches Brandon wanted me to find which was the original gift idea. I felt a little bad bailing on the pickled peaches plan, but then I  remembered that he can just give Grandma a picture of his kids for Christmas and call it good.

Anyway, the date was set for today! It had been too long since I had hung out with G-ma.

I had forgotten.

First, she has a new walker wheeled seat. I wish I could explain it better to you. I think the official name is the Smooth Walker 3000 or something. Does that help?

That thing is very difficult to get into the trunk. She wanted me to call Mother and ask her how she does it, but I was too prideful, so instead I struggled for a few minutes every time I had to get it in or out of the car.

The day started at 10 am, and we were going to Kohl's. As soon as we pull into the parking lot, G-ma starts talking about an article she read about how all the Mormon women are trying to change some things in the Church by wearing pants last Sunday.

Sigh.

Okay, G-ma, it's not ALL the Mormon women. Please don't classify me into a group of women who have forgotten that God loves them and that He is perfect, and has a plan and a reason for everything, even if it's not completely clear at the present time.  I have three problems with this 1) Whatever article G-ma read made it into a newspaper. I think this is absolutely the wrong publicity. 2) I attend Sacrament Meeting to renew sacred covenants. It is not a time for protesting. 3) It worries me when members are just waiting for the Prophet to, essentially, change his mind.  That indicates that the Prophet gets to do whatever he wants, which is false. The Prophet does what has been revealed to him. Wearing pants to church will not cause the Prophet to ask God to give women the Priesthood and then God will say, "Oh, why didn't I think of that? Absolutely, let's do this." And the Prophet has no authority to make that decision on his own. This isn't a company we are dealing with. This isn't a government. This is God. It just surprises, saddens, and angers me to know that this many people don't understand the way God works, how he speaks to His prophets, that His timing is not our timing, and His infinite love for us.


Anyway, I couldn't say all that to Grandma. I was trying to get that darn Smooth Walker 3000 out of the trunk during this time. And then a car alarm went off, and Grandma was yelling over the car alarm about how that is her main problem with the Church, how women can't do what men do (which she didn't specify, I just let it slide) and also how Dad won't be able to see me married. Those are two different topics, but just to ease her mind on the last one, I'm in no danger of getting married anywhere, so don't worry about it. She said, "Those two things I have a problem with, the rest I don't care about."

This should be an interesting day. Our first stop: Intimates.

On our way to hunt down a bra, G-ma says, "You know, I was married to Al for 30 years before I changed my religion."

What? When did you do that? How come I've never heard of this?  G-pa was Catholic. So what is G-ma? Also, if G-pa was raised Catholic, it must have been his mother's doing, because Great G-pa was Jewish!

I was trying to sort all this out in my brain as I was searching for a bra size that doesn't exist. But G-ma said it would be there, so I kept looking.

I couldn't find it.

Also, we are looking for a terry cloth robe if you happen to have one. Maybe I'll just order her a Juicy Couture track suit.

In other areas of the store we found elastic waist pants, which are perfect, and also three fleece tops because it's just "so damn cold" outside.

Then, we went to JC Penny. They did not have the magical bra size. So we had to go to Walmart, where my soul died a little and where we did not find this particular bra we have been so madly hunting for. She did, however, find some cozy pajama pants with a Hello Kitty print, so that's a win.

Then we went to lunch across from an assisted living home. Grandma then entertained me with stories of her friend Millie, who used to be at that home, but she got kicked out because she once went outside practically naked in the middle of the night. She got kicked out of a lot of places, that Millie.

Anyway, I told G-ma that I would like to go to our local jewelers if she wanted to come with me.

She did.

When we got there, everyone greeted her by name. She's a regular! I had no idea. I knew she liked jewelry, but I had no idea that I should immediately go back to her place and try to place dibs on pieces and stones I particularly like.


Anyway, all in all it was a pretty good outing. I went home and Greta and I started wrapping some Christmas presents. The phone rings, and it's G-ma.

"Myriah, wouldn't you know it, not one of the things we bought today fits me properly. You're going to have to exchange or return it all. Can you go tonight?"


"Sure. Sure I can. I'll be over in ten minutes."

Grandma Report

Grandma didn't find her shoes. Thankfully, we didn't spend much time looking for them. See, it turns out that her Dial A Ride driver wears these certain shoes, and they are all black. The poor salesman at Big 5 couldn't find a shoe to match the description, "All black, and the brand might start with an 'A'." After that complete failure, Grandma just decided she would ask her driver for the exact make of the shoe and the place of purchase. The only trouble is that she's not exactly sure when she will see that driver again, so she might just call up the Dial A Ride operator and ask her if she knows what type of shoes a certain driver takes.

As ridiculous as that sounds, it just might work. And she just might do it. Also, I would like to mention that I'm not sure if it is Dial A Ride, or Ride On, as her preferred transit service, as she uses the names interchangeably.

As we know, I've been out of the Grandma transit service for a while. So naturally, I'm rusty. At the first stop on our trip I pulled up to the curb instead of a parking space as directed. Well, the curb also means gutter, so I got as close to the curb as possible so Grandma wouldn't have to deal with the potential dangers of the gutter and the step up the curb. I parked, jumped out, opened Gma's door, and offered my hand. She gave it a try but couldn't get up. It was too low. She instructed me that I should move the car away from the curb. I did this, (although a little too far away from the curb) and she successfully got out of the car.

On the way back to the car, Gma hesitated at the curb. I thought it was too much of a step down and tried to offer some assistance. She was looking at a few leaves and some sand that was in the gutter and said she didn't want to walk through that muck. Interestingly, she walked through it when we were leaving the car, but I guess entering the car is another story. So, Gma walked about a yard along the sidewalk, to a less mucky area and waited there for me to move the car, jump out, and help her down the curb and into the car.

It's simply rationally irrational, and it's a delight to be home. Merry Christmas!

Back in Atascadero

Great news! I'm home! The first order of business was to call Grandma.

Me: Hi Grandma, it's Myriah!

Gma: Oh, hi, hi! How's the weather?

Me: Oh, I'm home! (So... look out the window.)

Gma: Great, so listen I want you to take me shopping.

Me: Sure, sounds great. When?

Gma: How about Friday or Saturday?

Me: I'm not sure, I have a wedding to go to. Can we go shopping on Thursday?

Gma: Well, I have to work out in the morning (physical therapy) but we could go in the afternoon.

Me: Sure, sounds great!


Today I went over to visit Grandma and dig out some of my coats, hats and scarves from storage.


Gma: I can't go shopping on Friday. It will be raining.

Me: Okay. (Me either.) When would you like to go? How about Thursday?

Gma: Hm, I don't think it will be raining on Thursday.

Me: So, what time?

Gma: Around 10?

Me: See you then!

So, it turns out I will be going shopping with Grandma on Thursday. She has a large list. Priority number one is to find some shoes that aren't too heavy. The current shoes that she has now, well, they are too heavy, and she just can't clunk around in them all day. She gets tired just looking at them. So I would have a frame of reference, I picked up the offending shoe. It was the lightest shoe I've ever held. Maybe the shoe salesmen will be able to sell Grandma some air?

Grandma's got The Crud.

This year I got a cold during the Christmas holidays. Usually when one person gets a cold in the house, everyone else can ward it off pretty well.

That didn't happen this year.

I got a cold, then the kids got a cold, Mary, then Dad, then Brandon and Jodie got sick as well. It's nice to see how unified we have become.

Paul, Marissa and Mother, however, the stalwart ones, have yet to experience any symptoms, but we'll see.

Grandma had spent time with us as well, and she was doing fine.

This morning she called the house and I answered the phone:

Me: Hey Grandma.
Gma: Hey, how you doing?
Me: Okay, how are you?
Gma: Is your father there?
Me: Sure.
Gma: I think I've caught The Crud.


If you think you have caught The Crud, I'm sorry to say, you may have picked it up at our house. We are pretty sure that is where Grandma got it.

Fabulously Successful Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving, the family participated in a 8 mile run and two mile walk.
Well, to be specific, Brandon participated in the 8 mile run, and the rest of us participated in the two mile walk.

It appears we are going the wrong way...



We set out with the rest of the group at a pretty good pace. The most short legged children were tucked away into the Cougar and the adults and Elle were making good time.

But then we found a leaf.


And it just so happened that we needed some leaves for our Thanksgiving table decorations this year. Then, about two minutes into the walk, Wade needed to get out of the Cougar and run. He ran the remaining first mile. Running usually speeds things up, but seeing how he's only 20ish months old, it kinda took awhile.



And then I found this cool thing growing from the trees we passed. I have no idea what it is, but it makes a lovely Thanksgiving picture. I love California.


And then, I found a spider about to enjoy his Thanksgiving feast! Spiders give me the heebeegeebees, but I braved through it to capture this great shot.



So, 50 minutes later, we crossed the finish line. That's right. Two miles in 50 minutes.
Ten minutes later Brandon came across the finish line.
I'm glad we didn't have to wait long for him.





After the race it was time to go set the table! Woot woot! I love it!

Because our white rose bush is obsessed with blooming, even at the end of November, I decided to make good use of those pretty blooms and I put them on our table.


I got that vase at a giant garage sale. I just wanted you to know that.

And now, a gazillion pictures of my Thanksgiving tables:






We were watching football in the background. Can you see it?






The Thanksgiving Grouse.
And Grandma.

It was a fabulously successful Thanksgiving. I'd be willing to do it again next year.

Any Good

Twenty minutes ago I got a frantic call from Grandma.

She needed someone to take the casserole out of the oven.



It was macaroni and cheese. It's a new recipe, so it might not be any good.

Marie

Marie is 92 (ish) years of age.

Did you know?

Also, she was walking to Circle K the other day when she fell.

Someone helped her up, I think she finished her trip to Circle K, and then she went home.

This happened about two weeks ago. She has been in a lot of pain recently.

She has been to the doctor, and they didn't have anything to say.

My parents have gone to the store for her a few times, getting different pain medications to see if anything helps. My mother has started taking Marie dinner.

Marie actually didn't go to Church this weekend, and she always goes to Church. She didn't come to Sunday dinner either. Mom brought her a plate of food that she could eat at her leisure. By the way, on Sunday we had three different kinds of potatoes with dinner; it was very fun. We had some golden potatoes, some purple potatoes, and some sweet potatoes.

Marie wasn't at dinner, but Grandma was. She kept telling us of the dangers of Marie accidentally mixing medicines, or not eating enough or not drinking enough, or not getting enough exercise. She shared her opinion of Marie's use of her air conditioner, and she also shared her opinion of Marie's two inattentive sons. Let's just say Grandma didn't have anything nice to say about them. She didn't hold back, and it also didn't seem to matter that it was the Sabbath.

Anyway, I wanted to keep you updated on Marie. I'm not saying anything about anything.

I'm just saying.

"We are on our own, Marie."

This week has a busy Wednesday. My Aunt, Uncle and Laura are moving to Missouri. My parents are going on vacation for... I don't know. Two weeks? Three weeks? All I know is that they leave on Wednesday.

This means Mary and I, but mostly I, will be in charge of Grandma. I told Grandma to call me on my cell because I never answer the house phone. I usually only answer the house phone when Judy Mallett is calling. Grandma told me I needed to pick up her mail every two days and bring it over to her frequently because she doesn't want it to get stale. FYI, the post office is on one end of town, I live in the middle, and Grandma lives on the other end of town. I just wanted you to know that. Also, please do not drop off the mail during nap time (a time that varies every day), toilet time, or eating time.

She also reminded me I need to take her barrels to the street on Sunday and bring them down on Monday. I will tell you that you shouldn't be too hasty on Monday. Don't think that just because it is the afternoon the trash has been collected. No no. You will be making two trips if you do that. Although, if you wait past seven P.M. to bring down the cans, you will get a frantic phone call from Grandma worried sick that you have forgotten to bring down her barrels, and don't forget, because she apparently has a lot to put in them seeing how it's been 24 hours since she has been near them. So, it is ideal to take the barrels down right around dinner time and FHE time, thanks.

The removal of my parents from Atascadero also means a removal of family dinners. Grandma tells Marie as they are walking out the door, "No more dinners until July, Marie. We are on our own Maire, we are on our own." She makes it sound like they will probably die in the meantime.

So, this also means I am available for dinner for the next two Sundays. Does anyone want to feed me? And can I bring Grandma and Marie?

American Idol and Grandma

I always enjoy a good conversation about American Idol with my grandmother.

At dinner tonight I asked her if she had been watching the show and who she likes. She said, "Oh, I like that Afro American girl. She has a very good voice."

Mother says, "Her name is Lil. Lil Rounds."

Grandma, "Yes, well, you know all those Afro American girls, they all have good voices. You know Jessica Hudson?"

I just stare at her. Jessica Hudson? What?

Grandma continues, "Well she didn't win but she did real well for herself. The judges are mad, they don't want something like that to happen again."

Me, thinking, "Oh, Jennifer Hudson. And why are the judges mad, America did the voting, not the judges. Is there something else I don't remember?"

Grandma, "Well that Jessica sure is good, I bet that is why the judges are doing the "save" thing now. Where do you think Jessica got her start? Motown?"

Correct Time

Perhaps one of my favorite parts about Daylight Saving Time is when all the old ladies (Grandma and Marie) bring their watches and clocks with them to dinner so that Dad can set them to the correct time.

Can you hear me?

Tonight Mary attempted her first apple pie-ish thing. She wasn't sure how it would turn out, so when she served it for dessert she said, "If it's horrible, don't tell me."

She gave grandma a piece. Grandma says in her gruff voice, "Well first off, the apples are raw."

Apparently, Grandma mistook Mary's request.

I said, "Grandma, you weren't suppose to say anything!"

And she said, "Oh! I forgot! But these apples sure are hard!"

So then everyone else gets some of it, and sure, the apples could have been cooked a little longer, but it was still good, and I wasn't breaking teeth.

She continues, "You know Mary, you could have started by slicing the apples thinner."

Then G-ma says, "Can you hear me crunching?"

Sudoku

Tonight Marie, Mom and I tried to teach Grandma how to play sudoku.

It didn't go over very well.


She wanted to learn because it is apparently all the rage in upstate New York amongst the senior citizens. Well, according to Grandma's cousin, it's all the rage. "Suppose to help your brain," she says.

After about 20 minutes of working on a puzzle and trying to understand the concept, Grandma let out a shriek and proclaimed she needed to go home and take a bath. As she was walking out the door tonight, she grumbled, "There is no way that will help my brain..."



I think I'll get Grandma a book of easy large-print sudoku puzzles for Christmas.

Two things

Two things happened tonight.

1) Grandma announced that her brain only processes 50 percent of what she hears.

2) Mary and I signed up for Netflix.

Not a Cloud in the Sky

I had the opportunity to pick up Grandma for Sunday dinner.

Gma: Will Mary be at dinner, or don't you know?

Me: She's in San Francisco.

Gma: Oh, she had to work?

Me: She's in SAN FRANCISCO.

Gma: Oh, San Francisco.

Gma: Did she go with all her friends?

Me: Yeah.

Gma: All of them?

Me: Uhh....

Me: Probably.

Gma: It sure is hot out today. Not a cloud in the sky. That's what's making it so hot.

People Just Don't Care

Grandma comes back into the waiting room and tells everyone she needs to use the restroom, so she goes into the restroom. (I think she was talking specifically to me, but she spoke loud enough and wasn't really looking at me, so maybe she was addressing the entire room.)

I go back to reading Glamour Magazine, which turned out to be a waste of time. No surprise there, really. I always bring a book to doctor appointments, but I am always wooed by the magazines, unless the office only has Central Coast Living, then no thanks. I already live here, I don't really need to read about it. And, all the offices have it, so it's not like it's a novelty. Now, the eye doctor is the only one around that has OK! Magazine, which is my favorite "what the crap are the celebrities doing/wearing?" magazine. It's always a treat when we go to the optometrist.

Anyway, I was in the middle of reading something lame in Glamour when Grandma pokes her head out of the one-seater bathroom. It appears Grandma has suddenly become a secret agent. She gets all shifty eyed and looks to the front desk and then motions to me and looks back at the front desk. She "whispers" to me, "Myriah, come in here."

Um... no thanks Grandma, I'm really not that interested.

I walk over and as I am hustled into the small room I become increasingly worried about what I might find. I hoped it is nothing uncomfortable.

Grandma looks at the scale. (A very fancy, digital scale, by the way.) She steps on it.

She says, "I don't know how to use it."

I push the "Start/Stop" button. Then she says, "I want you to measure me."

I turn the scale off and begin to adjust the height thing.

Me, "Don't they measure you at all these doctor's offices?"

Gma, "No, nobody does anymore."

Me, "I might have to crush your hair a little bit, Grandma."

Gma, "Oh, it's okay."

That's when I knew this measuring thing was really important. She didn't care about her curls.
At that point I got down to business.

Turns out Grandma is 5 feet tall. She said she used to be 5 foot and 2 inches. She still might be if she stood up straight.

As we were leaving the bathroom she said to me, "It's a shame I don't get measured more often. People just don't care like they used to...." and she finished it all off with a sigh.

Nozzle

Great news: Paul, Marissa and their entourage arrived today. Yup, we totally get to chillax with them all week. I'm pretty excited. Tonight is a big family dinner, and I had the honor of retrieving Grandma. We had a discussion about ice cream. I like ice cream far more than I like cookies. Grandma says she likes ice cream more than she likes cookies as well. I say hogwash. If she is such an ice cream lover, how come she makes all those cookies all the time and makes us eat them even though they have nuts all up in them and I hate nuts and don't even really like cookies?

I think there is more to Grandma's ice cream /cookie face-off, but I don't want to discuss it any longer.


Let us fast forward 20 minutes and you will find me emerging from my room with a decision to make.

It was between hanging out with Grandma and the other women in the living room, or outside with Dad, Paul, and the dogs. I chose outside. Dad has got himself a fancy new garden hose spray nozzle. He got it at OSH. It was nice to be hanging out with them, chatting about the nozzle, testing it's ability. Paul was impressed with the nozzle's durability. (The one he has at home is not so durable.)

Anyway, it's nice to have a brother around.

Grandma Days

I will very patiently ignore the mess on my desk to bring you this super great post about the past two Grandma days.

Wait....let me get some ice cream...

Alright, I'm ready now.

Grandma's second cousin, Betsy, came into town. So naturally, Grandma wanted to show her the sights. I was in charge of driving, and we also brought my cousin Laura along.

Sight number 1:
Sight number 2, Grandma taking a break:
The whole reason for sights number 1 and 2 were to get to this:
The elephant seals. I like the elephant seals. So silly to look at and blubbery and such. And the beach is always very pretty, so it's usually worth the trip. I also am always impressed at how fine they are that everyone is all up on 'em. I would be like, "get your own space of beach, man. This is mine. Back up off." But not those elephant seals. They are all on top of each other rollie pollie style. Even when they fight, they fight on top of each other. It's an excellent example of community, I think.

While watching the elephant seals, I overheard a young boy, 3.5-3.75 years of age, I would guess, telling his dad, "Dad, those seals are WAY bigger than you!" His brother, of an unidentified age says, "Yeah, Dad, you are so small! Those seals are HUGE!!!!!" and they went on and on about how blown away they were that something was bigger than their Dad, and I don't think their Dad liked that much. He kept saying stuff like, "Yeah, I get it... they are big animals... jeez..."

Sight number 3: Betsy was a trooper, and was in charge of walking with Grandma from the car to the elephant seals.
Laura and I scampered ahead, I got all the pictures I wanted, turned to see where Grandma was, and discovered that she and Betsy were still walking. They hadn't even caught a glimpse of those elephant seals yet. Please note Grandma's bright pink windbreaker. I bet she is kicking herself for giving away those checked pink pants to my mother...what a fabulous combo it would have made....

Sight number 4: I wasn't sure if I should include pictures of me as a sight, but I decided that I was part of this Central Coast experience, so why not? Please note that Laura and I are standing in front of the handicapped parking area. That's just how we roll.
Sight number 5: Wineries. No, this isn't a good example of a winery. But after San Simeon, we took a drive out Vineyard Drive, so Betsy could do some wine tasting. It was the end of the day when I finally remembered to document this part of our journey with a snapshot, so... that's what you get.


I turned around and took a picture of this:

I'm not really sure if those buildings have a function.

The next glorious day we headed out to Port San Luis, to lunch at the Olde Port Inn. There will be no more "sights" from here on, just regular pictures. They would have been "sights" but Grandma didn't mention anything about showing Betsy the sights on this day, so we have to return to normal.

This is one of Grandma and Grandpa's favorite spots, so I have been here many many times.

And yet, I failed to notice that the guy who started the Olde Port Inn has the same last name as us:
We should have gotten a discount.

For those of you who don't know, the Olde Port Inn is a restaurant, not an Inn, at the end of this pier:
There are a few awesome things about the Olde Port Inn. First, you get to drive out onto the pier and catch a view of this:
Well, Laura and I aren't always there, but this view usually is:


Second, at some of the tables at the Olde Port Inn, you can look directly down into the ocean.
We always hope to see a starfish or seal, but today we got a duck. I've never seen a duck down there before. I tried to get a good picture of it, but I don't know if I succeeded.

Third, the view from the table is phenomenal. I turned off my flash and scored this nice picture:

And then again I got this picture:
They keep their windows really clean here. I wanted everyone to know that I was actually inside a building while taking those scenery shots, so I thought it might be a good idea to get a picture of myself with that same background. I tried a few "nice" smile poses, but hated them all, so I ended up with this:
Laura at lunch:

Laura and I are clearly cousins as we have the same head-tilt inclination.

And really, who could pass up a great photo op with Grandma's glasses?

Not us.
I think it is important to note at this point in the story that it was ridiculously hot on the coast:

It was mentioned that Betsy would like to put her feet in the Pacific Ocean, a brilliant idea if you ask me. So Grandma said that would be a good idea. We could all go, but Grandma would just sit on a bench somewhere. This meant we had to go over to Avila where is was wicked crowded. There are no benches at Port San Luis of course, but plenty of parking. As we are driving by Port San Luis Grandma asks why we don't stop there, and I say because she needs a bench. She agreed with me.

So over to Avila we go, and there isn't a handicapped parking spot to be found. We "discussed" our options. We could let Grandma out, take her to a bench, and then go find parking a million miles away. Grandma wanted to pay for parking, I told her no way would we pay for ten minutes of beach time, so Betsy just said to let her out and she'll run and put her feet in the ocean and then come right back. Grandma commanded that we go back to Port San Luis where there was plenty of parking. So I went.

We get there and park and Grandma says, "where's the bench?"

"There's no bench Grandma."

"What?! No bench?"

"Nope."

"Well, I will just wait in the car."

"It's over one hundred degrees."

"Roll down the windows, and leave the keys in."

"Okay, but you can't let anyone steal the car."

"No, no no, you just go."

"Are you sure you are alright?"

"I'll be fine here with my book."

"Okay, we'll be back in ten minutes."

"Ten minutes, is that all?! Stay longer!"

"Okay, bye Grandma."

So we left her.
The beach was gorgeous that day. Simply gorgeous, and the water felt so good. I wanted to run right in fully clothed but decided against it.

I'm not sure what is happening in this picture, maybe the wave was going to get her? I don't know.
After about twenty minutes we returned to the car. As we reach the road, a woman says to us, "Does she belong to you?" and pointed at Grandma whilst giving us disappointing looks.

"Umm.. yeah."

And we walk to Grandma.

Apparently, the heat was too much to bear for such an old woman, and just as we were walking up, Grandma had engaged the help of that woman, for Grandma needed help exiting the car and crossing the street and motioning to us to come back. We got all settled into the car again and got reprimanded for taking too long on the beach.

Sigh.

Pink Sunday

Today was a pretty great day.

It was a wonky Sunday, and usually I HATE wonky Sundays, but I didn't have a problem with it this time.

I went to Stake Conference, where the stake president got 5 (five) minutes to talk...(really speakers??? You left him five minutes? You left the presiding authority 5 minutes?)
But it was a good conference, despite that fact that it could have been GREAT.

I have a few other stories about conference, that I really want to tell, but I am not going to right now.

Instead I will inform you that Mother and I played bocce ball this afternoon, we picked up Grandma and went to my cousin Laura's piano recital, and then Grandma took us out to dinner.

Grandma informed Dad yesterday that because of the recital, we should forgo the usual Sunday dinner at our house, and she would take us out to eat. Grandma loves to eat out, and she is no respecter of Days. As most of you know, Mother and I are respecters of Sundays. Unfortunately, there is no explaining this to Grandma. We have tried, many times. But it is no use. She just doesn't get it...or remember if she ever did understand...so we go to dinner when she asks.

Dad, Mom, Gma and I were all in the car driving to the recital:

Gma: Melanie, what size slacks do you take?

Mom, knowing somehow what that meant, replied.

Gma: Good. I've got some pants that will fit you.

Dad: Oh great! (he loves his wife in his mother's clothes)

Gma: They are pink.

Mom: Pink?

Gma: Pink check. Pink check slacks.

Me: You've been looking for some pink check pants, haven't you, Mom?

Mom: Yes. I have!

Anyway, Grandma thinks she has gained weight. I have no idea if this is true. She looks the same way she has looked all my life, as far as I can remember. So, she sometimes gives her clothes away. It is almost always a good time.

It was horrible

Last night I had a nightmare that Grandma requested that I go to the store for her and purchase 2 pounds of lunch meat.