Seventy degrees, slight breeze, clear baby blue sky, and I am taking five minutes to rock on the porch and enjoy a pot of bursting blooms.  The house is silent and I am fully aware I am only 48 hours away from school being out- Grandma Camp in full swing- and silence will be a memory.  If you are well acquainted with Planet Carol you know this is a welcomed invasion.  For over a month an activity calendar has been being designed.  The rule is every day is a surprise, nevertheless they are trying to get me to unveil new adventures! I too happily anticipate the days to be shared with my favorite occupants of the earth- my grandchildren! 

Yes I will be teaching piano and a few other regular pursuits, but my occupational title will be prioritized as Grandma first and foremost.  A parent said to me recently that they weren't sure how they will be when that time in life comes.  I told them with a mischievous grin it is exhilarating- they are yours but the responsibilities that come with them are the parents!  It is true.  But the truth is I really don’t believe it!  Being privileged myself to know both sets of my grandparents I have lots of memories to prove they didn't believe it either.  Each one of them invested something important in my life:

Grandpa Bailey died when I was very young.  However I can still see the genuine love oozing from his eyes from his chair in the front room off the porch.  His adoration of family never had to be explained to me- I got to experience it and all my life lived in the confidence he had loved his granddaughter deeply.

Grandma Bailey was a devoted teacher.  I was never with her without being instructed about the importance of reading, how to cook, or how to build a worm bed. She taught  me how to row the boat, how to bait the hook (though I drew the line on taking the fish off the hook!), and how to play a multitude of games including Yahtzee and Scrabble.  My final message to her was written with letter tiles glued to a scrabble board that I sent in an overnight mail package from states away.

Grandpa Baxter had a twinkle in his eye that was always there no matter what was happening.  He taught me the joy of mixing things up in life as I watched him pour 3 different cereals into his breakfast bowl topping them with milk and both white and brown sugar.  Variety was truly his specialty.  Religiously he wound at least 10 clocks daily and I always lay in bed at night listening to the different chimes and bird sounds on the hour.  I believe he was different with boys than girls having had four boys of his own first followed by three girls who were adored and spoiled to no end by their Dad.

Grandma Baxter was the busy creative one. She was an active member of many church and community organizations. Her special craft room (which was not as common then as today) sparkled creativity as there was never a time she didn't have something for me to make.  Specifically I remember fondly the puppies made of yarn and the turkeys made one thanksgiving in Florida out of pine cones and sea shells. She was also my inspiration for piano.  She played well and her favorite music was ragtime.  She ultimately moved to Kentucky with my Mom and was my greatest fan- listening to me play the piano and appreciating all my “projects”.

So you see I can’t take credit for being the fun grandma I love to be.  I was taught by the best the joy of the title……………………