Nicole Moody is one of my very favorite people. Now that Kevin and I no longer live in Atlanta, I don’t get to see her nearly as often as I’d like to, but that doesn’t mean we’re any less close. I love catching up with Nicole via long phone conversations and in-person visits sure to be full of laughter and lots of questions. And so Nicole was an obvious choice when it came time to ask another friend to be a Curiouser and Curiouser guest blogger. I always treasure Nicole’s point of view and ever-present humor, so I knew she’d be a great fit.
I was right:
When Anna asked me to be a guest blogger, I was sincerely honored. Being the gracious and trusting friend that she is, my great gal pal gave me full reign to write about whatever my little ole’ heart desired. I immediately and joyfully accepted. But alas, only minutes later, self-doubt set in.
What to write about? Surely 30 years of life experience can provide for one go at this blog business. Anna makes it look so easy, I think, but me — what do I have to offer this particular social network? After an internal pep talk, I decided I was over-thinking the situation, as per usual. I gathered all the pluck I could muster and began to brainstorm.
My first inclination was to use this opportunity to further document my unabashed and well-known love for this guy:
I might dedicate the whole shebang to he, and even be creative in how I share the gospel of mandolin virtuoso, Chris Thile. Perhaps a Petrarchan sonnet would touch the literary soul…
Or a well-researched thesis for the scholarly reader…
Or maybe a crafty post wherein I sew together and share an impressive patchwork quilt made with different images of a most beloved suit-wielding, bourbon-loving, favorite musician of mine…
However, after my gray matter calmed down a smidge, I decided that, besides being borderline creepy, ultimately I should hold on to some of this potentially precious material for my own most likely to never be formed blog about said blue-grassy genius.
So to the drawing board I went. Those tiny gray cells went to churning. What else to share? Maybe my love of autumn, complete with recipes and lighthearted suggestions for reading/viewing/karaoke material? I think Anna does a fabulous job of caring and sharing as it is. Though at least two people have commented on my superior taste in some things, I decided to leave the art of recommendation to the curiouser Anna.
I considered the possibility of passion. I might write about a cause or a charity or a pet peeve close to my heart. For instance, what’s the deal with snark? What happened to good old-fashioned wit? Do all these youths need cynicism to function, like other generations needed, oh you know, optimism? But alas, I’ve always found a soapbox to be slippery, and because I’m clumsy/clearly aging at an uncomfortably rapid pace, I should probably avoid breaking a hip.
Then it hit me. Eureka! Aging…breaking hip…avoiding all previous possibilities left me with only one good idea. I need not offer anything at all. I’ll devote this post to a far more poignant, humorous, and interesting person — my grandmother. I’ll use her words.
My grandma says the darndest things. They are indeed so darning that I collect them. I keep her little sayings strewn about, written on various scrap pieces of soft paper like grocery lists and receipts, as well as the several iPhone notes and Word documents I have dedicated to the topic. Her filter-free approach to life produces an array of verbal gems, ranging from the morbid and bittersweet sagacious to the frivolous and downright peculiar. My grandmother definitely has a way with words. The following I hope are evidential delights, and what I consider a good showing of her best quotations thus far:
-Before diving into a rack of ribs, “Okay, you won’t hear from me for a while.”
-Along similar lines: “When I don’t talk, I eat.”
-About the joy of takeout: “I can’t believe I’m eating Red Lobster at home. I mean, shrimp in my very own place.”
-While reading a grocery ad: “Kroger has a lot this week 10 for $10, which is a dollar as you well know.”
-Last Christmas: “I only came for the presents.”
-Concerning Whole Foods: “What does it look like in there? Does it look like rich people?”
-About Dancing With The Stars: “Because it’s like everything else. Nothing’s any good anymore.”
-Regarding Nancy Grace and baby making: “I don’t imagine she’ll have any more children, but I have no idear.”
-Speaking of Antonia Banderas: “You can throw away all the magazines except that one AARP with the sexy guy on the cover.”
On what’s to be done about her life:
-The subject of cremation came up: “Just make sure I’m dead, okay?”
-Before her appointment with a male OB/GYN: “I just dread it. I hope he’s not a good-looking doctor. Yeah, I hope he’s real ugly.”
-About South Africa: “I’d like to go, but just to ride there and come back. Not to stay.”
On what’s to be done with my life:
-When I decided to downsize: “I just don’t understand how you can live without a TV. I still love you though.”
-After my last haircut: “I mean, it looks good, I guess, but it’s looked better.”
-Her thoughts on my current “situation” (single): “If you go to church God will bring him to you, a good one. He could bring him all the way from Kalamazoo!”
I wonder if this guy ever visits Kalamazoo?:
One thought on “To Grandmother’s Words I Go”