Ellemental

Snapshot: Friday, 5:45p

It’s snowing outside. Little tiny icy snow. If I were outside I’d be able to hear the whispering hiss of the snow hitting the leaves that are still on the trees. But I’m not outside. I’m in the kitchen. Paul McCartney is singing a song about gratitude. I’m dipping catfish in a big bowl of batter while the VIM heats the cast iron skillet. Unknown to me, a single red rose is sitting in it’s hiding place…waiting for the right time.

Snapshot: Saturday, 2:00p

I’m getting ready to leave my grandmother’s house. The grocery shopping is done for the week. We just finished making a large batch of cranberry relish (yum!) for Thanksgiving, and I have cranberry stains splashed up my jean legs, on my shoes, on my hoodie. As I gather my stuff, we start the routine…the same words we say every Saturday afternoon:

Me: Well, I guess I should be going. I still have a few stops to make.
GM: Awww, you don’t have to go yet. Sit down awhile.
Me: Nope, can’t stop now. Gotta keep rolling. No rest for the wicked….
GM: …and very little for the righteous. Thanks for everything.
Me: Thank YOU for everything. Call if you need anything.
GM: You know I will.