As we trimmed the tree earlier this month, I once again shared this story with my kids. It was originally published in the anthology, Poetica Grandmatica, in 2006.

My sweet memories of Grandma are really just scattered slices of life. But together they make up an important part of my heritage.

When I was young, Grandma lived on Delbert Road on the north side of Eau Claire and my house was on Anderson Drive. Sometimes she had a garage sale and I brought my saved quarters to buy trinkets she’d display. It seems crazy now, but I remember riding my bike across Hwy 53 in the summer to visit her. Of course, now this four-lane highway is three-times as wide — and ten-times as dangerous.

I don’t recall much about what we did together, but I do remember her kitchen. Sometimes she made blackberry wine from the sweet morsels Grandpa picked. She’d keep it under the sink with a balloon on the top to ferment the liquor. And she used to vacuum her linoleum kitchen floor. I thought this was funny because I had only seen people sweep hard surfaces. Her house was always neat as a pin, as was she.

Grandma was pretty, and a sharp dresser even in her 80’s. She was a petite woman, and clothes never fit her off the rack. She’d buy something brand-new and take it right to her sewing machine. Her years altering garments at Bartosh Cleaners ensured she always looked like a classy lady.

But she tended to pick on herself — that was just her personality. We all came to expect that she would never quite be satisfied with anything she did. The scrumptious Thanksgiving turkey she baked was met with a worried, “I hope it’s not too dry.” And she’d grumble that her pumpkin pie always cracked. But this never seemed to bother the hungry children and grandchildren that wolfed it down.

She considered herself “homely” and remarked that her perm was too curly or, “this lipstick is so awful.” She’d complain about her “turkey neck” and for pictures she’d stretch her chin as high as she could, trying to pull the skin tighter. I never heard her direct criticism at others, though — only herself. Maybe she was fishing for compliments. If so, it worked, because everyone else always thought she looked great.

Grandma had a sense of humor, but it’s not like she told jokes. She learned funny expressions from her dad. When she had extra gravy on her plate, she’d say, “Pass me some of that bread — I’m not coming out right here.” And sometimes she’d break into song when the conversation fit one of her preferred stanzas. “He’s the rock that I lean on,” she’d sing in reference to Grandpa. Willie Nelson lyrics were another favorite — especially, “Nothin’ I can do about it now…”

Her fixed income in retirement didn’t allow for extravagances, but she and Grandpa kept a nice home and did some traveling. When we’d see each other, she’d bring me little candies or small gifts. And every Christmas, she’d give me a money envelope — the kind shaped exactly like a dollar bill. The card had a hole in it for the President’s face. Each year, I was so excited to open her gift because I knew it would be money and I was always saving for something. I don’t remember anymore which president was on the bill, but without fail, the message would be the same: “Wish it could have been more. Merry Christmas. Love, Grandma.”

It’s been years, now, since she died the winter before my wedding. We reserved a rocking chair for her at the ceremony with a satin ribbon across it. I believe in some way, she was sitting there.

I still think of her often — especially during holiday traditions. We all laugh when my mom or aunt or cousins use one of Grandma’s “isms” — it’s a fun way to keep her with us. And every Christmas, when my kids dig through our stored decorations, I pull out that last money envelope she gave me, tell my children stories about their great-grandmother, and set it on the tree.

And I wish it could have been more…

I’ve written an article over at Blissfully Domestic. I address ways moms can relax about the whole costuming thing, while encouraging creativity at the same time. Go read it!

(And thank you to those of you who emailed me with concern about the site being down yesterday. It was a hosting issue and was thankfully resolved by afternoon.)

If you subscribe via reader, you may not have seen the button in my upper left-hand column. I’ve been nominated for Education Blog of the Year and you can vote for me by clicking here. “Pass the Torch” is approximately halfway down the list and you vote by selecting the radio button and clicking “vote” at the bottom of the page. The other nominated blogs are great resources as well, so you may want to check them out. Voting is open until May 15.

Also, my article, “Say Yes!” has been published at Blissfully Domestic. I recollect an empowerment story about my son at age four.

And did you now Sk*rt is now Kirtsy? Find out about the switch here.

Have a great week!

This seven-part series will cover the 2 ½-year time span between the day I set out to become an author and the day I became one.

Becoming an Author – Part Two
Spring 2006

Part One is here.

After two months of constant writing, reading the boards at Absolute Write, and researching and querying magazines, I was getting discouraged. Although I still loved putting words to the page, there were so many hoops to jump before getting published. And editors were picky, so the fact that I could never seem to get my “its” and “it’s” straight couldn’t be helping.

I asked my Internet-genius brother-in-law what he would suggest for setting up a simple writer’s site. I thought I could post my company’s newsletter articles there, as well as any published articles (assuming I ever HAD any.) He suggested a blog – and I said, “A what?” I figured I hadn’t heard him correctly, since that was such a goofy word. I did a little research and anonymously played with Blogger for a bit. While I figured out what exactly a person would do with a blog, something unexpected happened.

Someone called a “fact checker,” followed up on a query I’d sent. She wanted to know if I could verify some information about the article I’d submitted for the True Stories section of Budget Travel.

The same week I received another unassuming email from an editor at Boy’s Life – asking if I would still be able to write the ice-fishing piece and provide photographs. The article wouldn’t publish until the following December, but I’d need to brave the punky ice and take the photos right away. The snow-covered lakes in Wisconsin usually open in late March.

And so I completed these assignments, anticipating the day my name would become a byline in a magazine.

I’d read several of Jenna Glatzer’s books, and since she seemed so approachable, I initiated an emailed conversation with her. She offered valuable insight and encouragement about non-fiction book publishing. It’s a connection I doubt she remembers, but one I’ll never forget.

With renewed conviction, I broke all the rules and sent a half-baked, but promising book idea in a spontaneous email to an acquaintance at publishing company. ..

Becoming an Author series:
Part One — Winter 2006
Part Two — Spring 2006
Part Three — Summer 2006
Part Four — Fall 2006
Part Five — Winter-Spring 2007
Part Six — July 2007-February 2008
Part Seven — Spring 2008
Photos of Search Institute Press

My book, Empowering Youth: How to Encourage Young Leaders to Do Great Things, is now available, from Search Institute Press.

(CLICK ON THE PHOTO)

In less than a month, my book will become available, and my publisher has launched the book’s landing page. Want to see what it looks like? Just click the image above and it will take you there.

Becoming an Author series:
Part One — Winter 2006
Part Two — Spring 2006
Part Three — Summer 2006

For more Wordless Wednesday, please visit here or here.