To paraphrase a Welsh proverb, perfect love comes with grandchildren. I've heard this over my lifetime, but nothing really prepared me for my love affair with Lucy, and now with my second granddaughter, Penny Lane.

I've been thinking a lot about my grandparents lately. I realize some of my most vivid memories involve them. I can place myself in my yiayia's (grandmother's) kitchen and see her work, feel the humidity, hear her melodious voice, smell the seductive aroma of baking bread. I can recall the kitchen at the Coney, see my papou (grandfather) methodically slicing buns while Watson stirred an enormous flat pot of chili with a big wooden paddle. Mostly, I recall the spice room, padlocked, a sliver of a room with spices stacked in built-in wooden bins to the ceiling. My grandfather would sometimes take me in with him to mix spices. I came to know the spices by their deep, rich colors and pungent smells. I'd take teeny-tiny tastes of them from my tentative pinky, crinkling my nose, which made my grandfather smile. Now I know exactly what that smile was all about. There's just nothing better than being a yiayia.  ~sophia

PennyKSL--0240-Edit.jpg02PennyLSD_8953.jpg03PennyKSL_0096.jpg04PennyKSL_0370.jpg05PennyKSL_0377-Edit.jpg06PennyKSL_0203.jpg07PennyKSL_0361-Edit2.jpg







March 4, 2010

To paraphrase a Welsh proverb, perfect love comes with grandchildren. I've heard this over my lifetime, but nothing really prepared me for my love affair with Lucy, and now with my second granddaughter, Penny Lane.

I've been thinking a lot about my grandparents lately. I realize some of my most vivid memories involve them. I can place myself in my yiayia's (grandmother's) kitchen and see her work, feel the humidity, hear her melodious voice, smell the seductive aroma of baking bread. I can recall the kitchen at the Coney, see my papou (grandfather) methodically slicing buns while Watson stirred an enormous flat pot of chili with a big wooden paddle. Mostly, I recall the spice room, padlocked, a sliver of a room with spices stacked in built-in wooden bins to the ceiling. My grandfather would sometimes take me in with him to mix spices. I came to know the spices by their deep, rich colors and pungent smells. I'd take teeny-tiny tastes of them from my tentative pinky, crinkling my nose, which made my grandfather smile. Now I know exactly what that smile was all about. There's just nothing better than being a yiayia.  ~sophia

PennyKSL--0240-Edit.jpg02PennyLSD_8953.jpg03PennyKSL_0096.jpg04PennyKSL_0370.jpg05PennyKSL_0377-Edit.jpg06PennyKSL_0203.jpg07PennyKSL_0361-Edit2.jpg









Comments
jessica says:

She is too yummy! I love her :-)

(03.06.10 @ 09:51 PM)