Dark, Heavy Fog~~~!

Foggy days get to me...so many in a row...the world gets dismal.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results.
Albert Einstein

So, to keep from going insane I shall think of something cheerful. I think I'll tell my 'Greats' a true story. I've never made up stories...seems like I have to write about something that I remembered really happening. I'll write something that the readers can read to you younger ones.
The Readers....Caleb and McKenna~~~!
Lets see...Once upon a time...OH I know...I'll tell you about a little girl I grew up with.

She had red hair and big blue eyes. She was a quiet little girl. Those eyes were busy watching the world about her at all times and one could tell she was storing away all sorts of things to investigate when the right time to do so. She built her own private world to live in.

Her first big discovery was a new home to find her way around in. She didn't like this move at first as she liked where she had learned to crawl around and find her favorite places to play. The new home had a long hall and many doors and she would get lost. She would crawl down that hall over and over again crying tears of sadness. She was lost and it was a long trip crawling back and forth looking for some familiar spot.

She began to grow and learning to walk and talk took all her time and she was at last home again. As she grew for a year or so her hair changed to a Strawberry Blonde color and her eyes kept growing bigger and bluer. She was beginning to be a pretty little girl but she was still quiet and liked her own little space.

Things would begin to get lost around the house. They would be in their special place and then 'whoops' they were nowhere to be found. One day while cleaning the house I picked up the pillow from a green chair in the living room and there would be a pile of lost things. Ah ha...a favorite hiding place. One day while getting the mail from the wall mail slot out fell other lost articles. We didn't make a fuss about these things...I just left them where she hid them and if I needed something I would just borrow it and put it back.

She named everything. I let her play with marbles that I had won in games at school when I was a little girl.....I had shooters , and steelies and lots of precious keepsakes. She would play a game of rolling all these marbles back and forth down the long hallway. The funny thing was...she had named each marble. She spent hours racing them and talking to them like they were alive. Then she'd tuck them away in the bag, hide them away for another day.

Now she didn't really like dolls and girl things as well as she liked her brother's toys...trucks...blocks...sand piles etc. She liked tools. She was always hiding her dad's screw drivers and such. I discovered all the covers over the electric outlets were missing screws and barely hanging on the wall. Of course that meant covering all the outlets. Anything that was put together with nails and screws were loose all around the house.

She looked so dainty like girls do but she wasn't graceful like girls move. In fact she was quite clumsy. This didn't improve much even as she grew. She had found two little friends. Of course they were boy neighbors. With one she and he would build highways in a big sand pile. They would play hours together in the sand and never hardly talk. They didn't have to talk. They had this special way of knowing what the other was thinking in silence. The other little boy was more active and they played the cowboy and indian thing. For one of her birthdays she was given all these girlie things but.....that wasn't what she wanted. I knew what she wanted and had it hid away in case the other presents weren't accepted. When she unwapped it....her eyes became bluer and bigger and she was very happy....A Davey Crocket Suit with fur cap and all. She had wanted a suit like the noisy little boy had. They would dress up and chase one another for hours at a time.

I decided to try ballet lessons to see if she might learn gracefulness. It didn't work. Skating lessons didn't work. She was now on her way to growing up. The emergency rooms at the hospitals knew her by her first name. We were always there with bruises, cuts, etc. Growing up pains. I finally gave up and let her be. She found her grace in her own little garden. She liked the dirt and she planted pansies and lillies of valley. Of course each one had a name. I don't know where she dreamed up all the names for everything. Having a name seemed an imortant thing to her.

At the dinner table in the evening we would all sit down and sort of wait. What were we waiting for....we were waiting for her to spill her milk. This happened about every night. When the milk was cleaned up we could all settle down and eat. At that time I gave her the name of Grace. From then on Grace took over for the rest of the clumsy period. She did finally grow out of it.

Before I quit this story I must tell you about something funny .... We all sat down to dinner and we were waiting for Grace to spill her milk when the table sunk to the floor. There were five people staring at the table flat on the floor. She had unscrewed all the bolts holding the table together. Now that was a shock for all. At first I feared for her life from the expression on her father's face....but we ended up have a wonderful family laugh and we have a memory we shall never forget.

By now I'm sure all you Greats know this is a short story about your Grandma Connie. Look at her now...such a giving and loving grandma, wife, mother, sister, friend, etc. that one will ever wish to know....we all love you Connie Jo.