~By Marissa Neiderhauser It is a memory so old and familiar that it is not really a memory at all. I don’t actually remember picking or eating raspberries with my grandmother. I just know that raspberries are forever inextricably linked with her. Seeing them in the store, hearing them mentioned, running the tip of my tongue along their…
Tag: grandmother
In the summertime…
~By Katie Blais A bulk of my childhood summers were spent at the Swedish Social Club … a men’s club that my grandfather and dad belonged to … it was this huge old building on a lake that turned into a playground for my brother and my cousins and me on those hot summer days. …
Lessons from my Grandmother
~By Katie Blais So many memories of my grandmother involve some sort of food and eating. Picnics at the lake on Sundays in the summer with her green canteen full of lemonade. Coming up from the beach at noon, covered in salt and sun screen and having her make me an egg salad sandwich ……
My Grandmother’s Little Slice of Heaven
~By Kate H. Knapp When the air outside gets chilly and the leaves begin to turn shades of red and gold, I start to crave the plump and gooey cinnamon rolls my grandmother used to make. Just a whiff of spicy cinnamon, and I am six years old again kneeling on a stool in my…
Stranger in a Strange Place
~By Carl Unger I saw her in the supermarket, and of course that makes perfect sense, for it was food that connected us, transcended age, language, and culture, to make us family. But it had been years-seven?-since I last saw my grandmother, and though I recognized her immediately, she seemed somehow false: Wearing a bright,…
A Memorable Feast 