GrandMuMMinG Monday

     Sleepovers.  What precious memories.  Grampa is impressed how my ear catches each sound and I bolt to attention ready to assure the cries of a precious one.  It's that "mom" hard wiring that is still present.  I love singing sweet songs like "Hush Little Baby" and rocking in the rocker like I did for so many hours as a mom and as a child.  An overstuffed rocker with a padded arm is essential.  My leg or my arm still drapes across that generous padding, my head cranes back.  A tiny tipping of my toe keeps our rhythm as we relax totally in the chair, bundled in a comforter or two.  When we rock now, I smile and remember what it felt like as my mom rocked me for countless hours, assuring me of her watch care and love.  I feel it, those moments over fifty years ago.  Judging that moment to rise and lay you down in your bed here at Grampa's and GrandMuM's is tricky.  A few trips back to the rocker may be in order, but that comfort of restful peace will come.  Then, I love the exuberance of morning.  I love sharing precious moments, usually over Grampa's pancakes, just us three.  

Zesty Friday

     Zesty conjures citrus today.  I remember making one of my very first lemon meringue pies over 30 years ago.  My grampa stopped by just as I was stirring on the stove and said, "My mom always added extra lemon juice."  The idea of "a little more" was born.  I'm still a pretty much "follow the recipe" kind of cook, but anytime orange juice, lemon or lime juice is listed, I add more and the zest too.  Last year's batch of homemade Gran Marnier relied on that essential orange zest.  Oh my, that was good stuff.  Zesty.  The tang of citrus keeps me from being totally committed to "local," Portlandia fans will have a chuckle here.  We've had hard frost the last two mornings, and snow in town.  When I think of citrus, I think Florida or Simi Valley or Fallbrook.  I don't even think I'd want to try a citrus tree in a pot here in Rough and Ready.