My grandma turned 80.
Isn't she beautiful?
Everytime I make french toast I think of her (you know the good french toast with plain ol' white bread).
Or when I smell peach cobbler or fresh brownies.
Or when I see a bare foot on a cold night, I know she'd be dying to lend a pair of her crotched slippers.
She taught me to sew, to cook, to bake, to love God.
I would not be the woman I am today without her.
She is as good as they get.
I love you Gram.