Nine Degrees

On Tuesday I called my grandmother. I was on my way home from work and thought I'd give her a call. New England (and Rhode Island and Massachusetts in particular) was expecting some pretty decent snow and I wanted to check in with her. I figured if Grandma was anything like my mom, she was thinking maybe she could make it into work Wednesday morning. I wanted say hi and and let her know that she was too important to us and not nearly important enough at her part-time job at "the Dunkin Donut" to attempt to drive. Texas, in the meantime has been in the middle of a cold snap. Our conversation went something like this:

Grandma: Hi Nichole
Nichole: Hi Grandma. I hear you all are due for some snow.
G: Are you calling to rub it in since you're in Texas?
N: Ha ha, Grandma with the windchill it was nine degrees this morning when I left the house. It is COLD here right now. I am so not calling to gloat. I'm calling to make sure you don't try to go to work tomorrow...

She assured me she wouldn't go to work and we lamented that my mom was sure to try to drive in to work in the morning no matter what and moved on to talking about our mutual dislike of Rex Ryan and the Jets. I adore my grandmother. She and her husband dress alike when they go out (matching shirts and the like). She worked hard all her life. She has been incredibly supportive of her children and grandchildren.

I'll admit it, I'm her favorite. Ha ha. I think if you asked her she'd admit it too...maybe not. But everyone else will tell you I'm her favorite too. Ha! She's not as active as she used to be, but when I was younger she used to take me on trips with her - Florida, Virginia, Martha's Vineyard. I spent many many weekends at her house. I'd leave and not look back, even though the only board game she would agree to play with me was bingo. I had fun just hanging out with her, going to the market or to the local high school for band stuff. All her friends knew who I was - Pam's daughter - and I remember a lot of them, even to this day. Most of my first memories are memories of that time spent with Grandma in Somerset. My sister never wanted to go, she hated leaving my mom. So a lot of the time it was just Grandma and me. So you can see why I thought she was too important to go out in the blizzard and I'm glad she agreed with me.