Newman's Own came out with some really yummy wintergreen mints so we thought we'd try a tin of them. We all give them a thumbs up.
In fact, they bring me back to the day when Grandpa K (my grandpa) would pass out those big pink mints for us kids to suck on. I remember very vividly that they were stored in a bowl on top of the fridge and that Grandpa's breath frequently smelled of them, yum!
It wasn't until just a couple of years ago that one of my brothers revealed to me the truth behind those mints . . . dear gramps would suck on his mints for a bit and then put them back in the bowl. In his forgetfulness he would pass them out to us for a treat, or so I was told. Hmmm, mom and dad do you have anything to say about this?
Just thinking about this memory stirs up all sorts of other memories of my northern grandparents. Harmonica music filling the evening, Grandma's zwiebach (the best rolls ever), playing in the hay mounds with the kittens, avoiding cow pies in the pasture, the trap door to the upstairs bedroom, devotions at mealtime, stoking the wood stove, waking up to the coffee pot peculating, going to that tiny storybook church. I wish EH could have met them before they checked into Heaven. I love knowing that they, along with my mom's parents, are with the family babes.
1 comment:
I think you better recheck that story with your brothers. I think the joke is on you.
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