I'm not bossy. I just have better ideas.
My grandma likes "stuff."
Amongst actual antiques, none of us are ever surprised to find giant, furry rabbits, baskets of seashells, Rhett Butler-inspired postcards, pictures of grandkids with significant others who have not in fact been significant others since 1993, Reynolds wrap – not encasing something, just the wrap itself, Christmas garland, or cutlery just nonchalantly hanging out as if there is no other place for it to logically be.
This past Christmas, I sat down on the red leather couch in the living room and quickly realized that I had crushed something, possibly the pickle that would be hid in the tree later in the evening (and that my sister Leigh would inevitably win $20 for finding…don't ask) or a small child. A typical segue way here might be “But to my surprise,” however, nothing could be farther from the truth; making complete sense, I stood up and realized that I had sat on a knife handle. A steak knife, not a butter knife. With furrowed brow, a result of curiosity as to what she had been doing with it, not with the fact that a potentially deadly weapon was in the couch, I took it into the kitchen. Grandma, with the laugh that it unmistakably Lois Nunn’s, grinned and said, “Well, there’s my potato peeler."
This is the kind of stuff that makes Grandma’s so incredibly fun though. One literally NEVER knows what is going to happen, what someone is going to say, or what funny little trinkets will be stumbled upon by overstimulated eyes. Furthermore, all the “stuff” that is so worthy of conversation, good-natured eye rolls, and “collective stare, silence, ‘huh’” is matched only by the absolutely gorgeous assortment of roses so meticulously maintained outside the house and by the laughter and love inside this relatively small brick abode. It just wouldn’t be “Grandmas” if order and time management abounded.
***
One of the newest additions and undoubtedly one of my favorites:
Now resting in the pale pink fabric-covered antique chair that Grandma and Granddaddy have owned since they got married (57 years ago): a navy throw pillow with the unarguably wise mantra, "I'm not bossy, I just have better ideas."
My hilarious mom, Jackie, and my even funnier grandparents, Jack and Lois Nunn.
Tell me about some of your favorite quirky Christmas memories!
Liza's column The Little Things appears regularly in FOLK.
Amongst actual antiques, none of us are ever surprised to find giant, furry rabbits, baskets of seashells, Rhett Butler-inspired postcards, pictures of grandkids with significant others who have not in fact been significant others since 1993, Reynolds wrap – not encasing something, just the wrap itself, Christmas garland, or cutlery just nonchalantly hanging out as if there is no other place for it to logically be.
This past Christmas, I sat down on the red leather couch in the living room and quickly realized that I had crushed something, possibly the pickle that would be hid in the tree later in the evening (and that my sister Leigh would inevitably win $20 for finding…don't ask) or a small child. A typical segue way here might be “But to my surprise,” however, nothing could be farther from the truth; making complete sense, I stood up and realized that I had sat on a knife handle. A steak knife, not a butter knife. With furrowed brow, a result of curiosity as to what she had been doing with it, not with the fact that a potentially deadly weapon was in the couch, I took it into the kitchen. Grandma, with the laugh that it unmistakably Lois Nunn’s, grinned and said, “Well, there’s my potato peeler."
This is the kind of stuff that makes Grandma’s so incredibly fun though. One literally NEVER knows what is going to happen, what someone is going to say, or what funny little trinkets will be stumbled upon by overstimulated eyes. Furthermore, all the “stuff” that is so worthy of conversation, good-natured eye rolls, and “collective stare, silence, ‘huh’” is matched only by the absolutely gorgeous assortment of roses so meticulously maintained outside the house and by the laughter and love inside this relatively small brick abode. It just wouldn’t be “Grandmas” if order and time management abounded.
***
One of the newest additions and undoubtedly one of my favorites:
Now resting in the pale pink fabric-covered antique chair that Grandma and Granddaddy have owned since they got married (57 years ago): a navy throw pillow with the unarguably wise mantra, "I'm not bossy, I just have better ideas."
My hilarious mom, Jackie, and my even funnier grandparents, Jack and Lois Nunn. Tell me about some of your favorite quirky Christmas memories!
Liza's column The Little Things appears regularly in FOLK.
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