Most grandmas have a touch of the scallywag. ~Helen Thomson
I don’t recall exact conversations with Grandma Mable, but my memory carries snapshots of her.
Baking rolls in miniature pie tins in her kitchen. Fresh baked cookies being removed from the ancient oven. Sis and I would salivate while we waited for them to cool enough to sample the tasty treats.
Picnics took place on sweltering summer days in her yard, where flowers grew in abundance. I can still taste the sweetness of homemade lemonade.
I remember skipping stones with her while she whistled a broken tune. Mable’s would skip lively. Mine would sink. Seagulls would ascend at the disturbance.
100 words/Genre: Memoir
Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers. Please be sure to go to her page and read the stories from other writers. We are a rather eclectic group. I welcome kudos and criticism. Bring it on.
That took me back to my grandma, even though my memories are quite different.
I’m glad it did. It’s what I was going for. I was hoping to bring out a little nostalgia in the reader. 🙂
You were successful here!
Very pretty and poetic. Sweet story.
Thanks Love. Glad you liked it.
Lovely memories to have, Renee. 🙂
janet
Thanks my dear.
Love, Renee
A beautifully written delightful read. I love your writing style. Fresh and charming.
Thank you so much. I’m glad you liked it.
Love, Renee
Nicely done! Lakes tend to bring out our reflective nature don’t they?
Regards
Jim
Thanks so much. I do believe water is my element. Hell, I know it is.
Love, Renee
Lovely memoir – you have me reminiscing now!
That’s good. That’s exactly what I wanted.
Love, Renee
This is a lovely remembrance, but the strength is in that last paragraph… just yummy writing there. “Mables would skip lively. Mine would sink. Seagulls would ascend at the disturbance.” Oooh, love that.
Thank you so much for the kind comment. I have to admit, I liked the last comment best also.
Love, Renee
Dear Renee,
This is in the top five this week, but who’s counting. Unique, outside of the box, well written and strangely satisfying. I loved it. Thank you for letting me read it.
Aloha,
Doug
Dear Doug,
Thank you, thank you, thank you. Your comment warms my sparkly heart! I loved writing it. My Grandma Mable was something else. One of the toughest women I’ve ever known. Thank you for loving my story.
Love, Renee
Dear Renee,
I loved the first line…that her memory carried snapshots. Nothing to criticize. Beautiful remembrances. I could smell the kitchen aromas and wished that Mable was my grandma. Well done, my dear. Well done, indeed.
shalom,
Rochelle
Dear Rochelle,
Your comments always set my heart dancing. This story came from the title, Skipping Stones. We skipped them on many occasions. You would have loved her. That woman even walked the five mile Mackinaw Bridge every Labor Day. Even did it two days before she died. She was well into her 80’s by then. Thank you for kind comments and the love of my story. Mwah!
Love, Renee
A wonderful remembrance …. I really enjoyed those details. I felt like I was in the kitchen (and now I’m hungry!) and the garden, seeing all those colorful flowers.
Thank you my dear. I’m glad you felt the story like I did when I wrote it. Mable was quite a lady. I like to think some of her rubbed off on me and made me the woman I am today.
Love, Renee
I love that you Grams was an expert rock skipper. I can picture her as a young girl, skipping rocks. Maybe she dreamed of skipping rocks with her grandchild one day. I imagine you made her very happy.
She most certainly was an expect skipper. She was really something. Cranky most of the time, but sweet too. I wish I could remember if I made her happy. I think I did. 🙂
Love, Renee
I’m sure you did. 🙂
Flashback of times with Grandma (and Grandpa) reading this sure made me think of fine. And wonderful memories they were too. Thank you!
I’m glad my little story took you back. I’m sure your grandparents gave you wonderful memories.
Love, Renee
I really liked the way each separate paragraph made the reader feel as though you were actually handing us individual “snapshots of her.”
Hey, I didn’t even mean for that to happen, but you’re right. They are little snapshots. I’m glad you liked my story.
Love, Renee