Wednesday, July 13, 2011


I went to Salt Lake City this weekend to attend the funeral services of my grandmother. It was nice to see family and my two brothers. But it was a bittersweet affair. A journal was discovered after my grandma's passing. Apparently she kept one starting in 1976 for 10 years, writing in it off and on. Several entries describe things I did as a child. My favorite: my grandma, my uncle and I were sitting down to dinner and my grandma gave me mashed potatoes and gravy. I said, "Yuck!" So my uncle said, "Just pretend it is ice cream and chocolate syrup." I said, "Okay, then I'll pretend to eat it, too." I was three--and just as stubborn and snarky then as I am now it appears. And for the record, my feelings on mashed potatoes have changed, but I still don't like gravy.