Today I am visiting my grandmother in Chesapeake, Virginia. A county whose welcome sign ought to read, “Population: Questionable.” My grandparents moved to Virginia from New jersey over 40 years ago so that my grandfather could work for a chemical company to make bug spray. My grandfather widowed my grandma when she was 35.
One of the many things my grandma retained from Jersey was the attitude and the accent, so she’s like an entirely different breed in Virginia.
I lived with her for two years in high school, when I was a vegetarian. She asked me, “So, can I make you some chicken?” One of the things she made for me in high school was a recipe that she got from a newspaper for a lemonade ice cream pie. I think it’s just cool whip, vanilla ice cream, ad lemonade mix. It’s as good as it sounds.
In high school I was pretty much a bitch. My grandma kept telling me how refreshing it was and so after a while I called it, “Refreshing Lemon Pie.” She thought that i loved it and wasn’t being sarcastic. As a result, every time that i come home she says, “Gracie! Guess what I made? Your favorite refreshing Lemon Pie!”
Now I just laugh and cut myself an icy slice.
My grandma is hands down my favorite person in the world. Her catch phrases include,
“I hate people. I hate nature. I hate animals, but especially I hate men.”
“You want a peppermint patty? It’ll cure your headache.”
“You want some provolone? it’s fresh”
“I hate old people! They are so entitled!”
and today she said to me, “You like my shoes? Starbucks!…I mean, Clarks…”