Tuesday, February 22, 2011

the grocery fairy

Living with your grandma has its perks. At least if your grandma is anything like my grandma, it does. I suppose I'm technically my grandma's tenant, but my front door is about 5 steps from her back porch.

The perks, you ask?
Well...
I get tea when ever I want.
I get cake/cookies/chocolate/CREM BRULEE/cupcakes/candy/pie whenever I want.
I get to hear stories of her travels to Germany just after WWII.
And Egypt.
And Detroit in the summer and Florida in the winter when she was a little girl.
And old Hollywood and LA.
And England with the Cameron British relatives I've never met.
And the all the old school Seal Beach Post Office drama circa 1970ish.
I can ask to borrow a cup of milk and walk away with two loafs of bread, some eggs, maybe some fruit, and not enough hands to properly hold everything, let alone my milk.
I can commission her to hunt for mirrors, frames, and various items in her expert garage sailing skills
I can watch her TV whenever I want and she basically gives me free control of the remote. This is cool because I'm the only person in America without a TV.
I can watch the most darling old movies staring her favorite famous actors and actresses of the past. (Jeanette MacDonald is her favorite.)
I really could go on but it might make you jealous.

I mean, the woman is pretty incredible. She is always thinking of other people, it's very inspiring.


Which brings me to this.



I was at school until 10pm on the night before my dad came home from Kauai last week. (I'm brilliant with locking my keys in the car at night- I'm on first name basis with the security guards who kindly break into it for me.) My plan was to head straight up to USC from school for the night to be closer to LAX in the morning for dad's 5am(!) flight.
Also to see Cubby, who am I kidding?


I decided to stop home to grab my toothbrush and some rice cakes to snack on in the car on the way up to LA. Just as I'm reminding myself to make this quick and not get distracted, I open the door...
Low and behold! Produce!


 'BeachSide' Broccoli... it's the little things.
I just really appreciate how adorable my grandma is. No note. No receipt. No apparent reason. Nothing but love left on the counter in the form of vegetables, fruit, and english muffins. (I'm actually guessing her reason was my dad's return;  the woman loves to feed people.)


Counting blessings is so much more fun than counting affliction. Remember that, Hali, remember that!



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