The cattle on a thousand hills. My Father owns the cattle on a thousand hills. He said so. (Psalm 50:10) Now I have a picture of a real place that I’ve experienced that I can go to in my head when I think of that.
OK, so I’ve missed a week. I’ve been busy getting ready for a holiday craft show tomorrow. I’ve made so many mistakes today that I decided that what I have done is enough.
But I do have a fav foto to share. This one was taken on my trip this summer to the UK and Norway. We had a day to spend in Trondheim, Norway before taking the train north above the Arctic Circle. As we walked around the city we found flowers everywhere. I guess it was still springtime there. In both the UK and Norway, the flowers were predominantly purple or yellow.
I love the purple with a little bit of blue in the center. This picture really doesn’t do them justice. They were eye-popping purple.
Hope you like them too!
Find some more Fav Foto Friday posts here.
Interesting that we have two types of grands. From our very beginnings we have grandparents. Later on in life our grands will be our grandchildren. Both bring about happy memories.
I don’t have the new ones yet but I had the old.
My grandfathers I don’t remember much about. My maternal grandfather died when I was a wee one. I think I was 5. But I do remember him laying on the couch playing the “hand game” with me. He would put his hand out and I’d put my little one in it and try to take it away before he caught it. He always won. I also have his eyes. I’m the only “blue-eyed blonde” in my immediate family.
My paternal grandfather, although we spent a lot of time together as a big family at his house or my uncle’s, I don’t remember much about. I guess I spent more time with my cousins. I do remember that he didn’t have many fingers. My dad told me he lost them when he was on a boat? I think. I know he was in the Navy. I know stories about him because my dad is good at telling stories about him growing up.
My paternal grandmother, who was actually a step-grandmother but the only one I knew, was nice and round and gave good hugs. She also knew how much I liked her homemade pickles. Every time we would visit, she’d take me back to the cabinet she kept them in and hand me a jar to take home. Wish I would have gotten that recipe a long time ago.
My maternal grandmother, I guess, is the one I remember the most. Probably because more time was spent with her. She lived in a little house on a road in northwestern Louisiana where we’d count 4 small bridges and a curve before we reached her drive. She always had something for us to eat when we arrived, usually some kind of greens; turnip, collard, or maybe spinach, and cornbread. Yuck! But she knew I didn’t like them and made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
She crocheted blankets and made one for each of her great-grandkids but was already unable to use her hands like that when my daughter came along.
Mammaw had long silvery hair which she wore twisted neatly into a low bun and held back in combs to match her hair. When she had to move to the nursing home they cut it all off. I used to love watching her fix her hair in the morning.
When she came to visit us, guess who shared a bed with her? Me! I didn’t know until a few months ago when I finally wondered about it where my big sister slept when she came. On a palette on the floor. Mammaw snored so it wasn’t always a great thing to be able to share the bed with her.
She also made chicken ‘n’ dumplin’s from scratch. If I fix them at all, it’s with her recipe. A lot of love went into those dumplin’s.
She lived longer than my other grands and died at the age of 95. She had lived a long and a good life.
What do you remember about your grandparents? Are they still with you? Did/do you spend a lot of time with them? If they are still around, listen to their stories. You’ll be glad you did.
’twas the night before the night before Christmas…