Yes.
Boy, do I miss my Grandma and her kitchen. Her home. It was a place of happiness. Love. Contentment.
Some days, when life is just tough, I like to travel back in my memories to that happy place. Grandma's house.
In the summer, there would be a warm breeze flowing through the windows. A jar of sun tea sitting on the step. Pretty flowers in the garden bed. Sweet corn and rhubarb growing in the garden. The smell of fresh cut grass. Shredded beef sandwiches with home canned peaches or plums. Taking a bike ride down to the old cemetery.
At Christmas, there would be various sweet treats on the counter. Cookies, peanut brittle, kettle corn. Homemade cinnamon rolls and cold glasses of milk. The twinkling lights and tinsel on the tree. Christmas music playing on the record player. Mr. and Mrs. Claus on the entertainment center. Warm blankets to cozy up in.
I sure do miss her. Those memories. The smells that take me back right into her kitchen.
Grandma has been gone many years now. But the memories still live in my heart and mind.
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