I remember how that place smelled. I can smell it now. Funny huh, the stuff that sticks. I also remember how Grandpa’s house smelled. His house smell is a little easier to articulate than Grandma’s house. There was this smell of books and old paper and dust and leather and wood and Barbosol and lilac bath fizzies –all at once. I remember what we ate when we visited. Breakfast was huge. Eggs and bacon, cereal and toast, orange juice and milk. Then dinner. Dinner was always a bucket of fried chicken. And corn on the cob! And cool glasses that had D etched on them. Visiting grandpa was also one of the few times that we ate at McDonald’s, and we could order what we wanted. I mean I could have the whole happy meal (you know fries and a drink too) which also meant that I got a toy. And I didn’t have to share. Grandpa’s meant MTV, and orange trees – do you know what blooming orange trees smell like? Grandpa’s meant swinging and riding up and down the block. Grandpa’s was snails and a real lawn. Grandpa’s was toys that he kept just for us. Grandpa’s was snoopy sleeping bags on the floor of the den. Grandpa’s was also that really creepy devil mask (I wonder what happened to it-boy I’d love to have that hideous thing.) And that terrifying Pinocchio ride-on toy that made me unable to pee at night at Grandpa’s. Grandpa’s was a cuckoo clock, the clapper, the recliner, and unshelled nuts. Grandpa’s was golf clubs and ski poles. Grandpa’s was playing shop with his Dutch door. Grandpa’s was Kelly. Grandpa’s house was dim, filtered light, colored class, and neat gadgets. Grandpa’s was, “Come again? What’s that? I’m sorry?”
I remember how Grandma DD said my name. I can hear it still, “Jenny.” Grandma’s house was – eggs fried in the fat that was left over from the bacon that she made. She made good eggs, you know, not too stiff – not too runny, and with black pepper. Yum. Grandma’s house was little cans of sprite. Sprite that she bought just for us. Sometimes she had cookies too. I remember asking if I could go visit Grandma, you know for cookies and sprite and talk. I think that I usually had a sister or two that went along with. But a few times I got to chat all by myself. Grandma’s was stacks of papers and bills – (But when I think about it so was Grandpa’s) Grandma’s was junipers. Grandma’s was MATCHES, and a set of weird inappropriate statuettes that is burned on my brain because I spent much time staring at them. (I wonder what happened to those – I wonder what meaning they held for her) Grandma’s was spoons and steins. Grandma’s was Baby. I think that Baby was mean. Grandma’s was this big ridiculous TV that could only be viewed from one location in the room (not the one that I was sitting at). Grandma’s was toilet paper that had money printed on it. Grandma’s was weird misplaced statues in the backyard – I used to work out in my head how they managed to cover the pool that the statues must have belonged to, so well. (They had a pool at a previous house) Grandma’s was newspaper wallpaper and weird misplaced window. Grandma’s was Easter! Ham and polished silver. More eggs. Strawberry pint packaging turned into Easter baskets. Fruitcake and baklava. Big hugs. Big smiles and gold dental work. Grandma was beautiful. I almost never saw her with out her hair done. Her hair was long – (A feat that I equate with beauty) – it takes work and I still cannot manage long hair. I don’t remember why I know how she made breakfast. But she wore a zip-up housecoat in the morning. My mom wears it now and you know, she is beautiful too. 