marveling at moss: October 2010

Only Nedy's Baba.

Only Nedy's Baba could design and build the most fantastic sandbox that ever was (no bias here at all) while having the patience to let his little helper think she was actually, among other things, carrying heavy beams and mounting them in place.

Without further ado, I present Baba and Nedy's first major project together--a summertime of work--the sandbox. (Which, you'll notice--for the sake of my sanity--is actually a sand table. I have successfully brainwashed Nedy into thinking sand tables are just as much fun as sandboxes. Shhhh.)

In the words of Kai-Lan, these two make my heart feel super happy.

And their plans for next summer? A tea house big enough for backyard sleeping.

Nedy has been working on relationship linking for a while now. “Na-naw is Mama’s Mama and Gwamma is Baba’s Mama”, etc. So last week she asked, “Who Na-naw’s Mama?” So I explained that Nana’s Mama was my Nana and that she lived a long time, but she died before Nedy was born.

Nedy: “She dead?”
Mama: “Yep, Nedy, Nana’s Mama is dead; she's not alive anymore.”
Nedy: “What you call Na-naw’s Mama?”
Mama: “Grams.”
Nedy: “Dat siwwy name.”
Mama: “Yep, it is a silly name, isn’t it?”
Nedy: “What Na-naw’s Mama yike to do when she 'yive?”

We interrupt this discussion for a brief moment as I process the honest answer in my head: What'd she like to do? Well, chain smoke, chew Doublemint gum, watch soap operas, and engage heartily in highly opinionated debates. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

Mama: “Ummmmm…she liked to bake things! She made apple tarts and they were deeeeeelicious.”
Nedy: “We make appo tawts?”
Mama: “Well, I have an idea...we’ll ask Nana if she wants to make apple tarts with you this weekend.” (Notice I cleverly volunteer Nana for this insanely labor intensive task.)
Nedy: “Oh, GWEAT! I so essited!”

So Saturday we went to Nana and Papa's to relive Grams' memory in a toddler appropriate way. (Although, I think it would have been a lot easier to give Ned some Doublemint gum and engage in debate with her about the Catholic church. I'm good at the debate gig, no doubt in part thanks to Grams, and I can chew gum with the best of 'em, but baking apple tarts? That's Nana territory for sure. I know my limits.) Anyway, come to find out Nana never actually made the lard crust of the famed apple tarts, that was Grams' job alone. Had it really been that long since we'd had apple tarts?!? Thank goodness we have Nedy to inquire about the hobbies of the deceased.

My Mom is an amazing lady. If it were me, and I knew how crazy making this crust was, I'd have told me to jump in the lake. But not Nana. She stuck it out, small person at her side, hands full of lard and kitchen dusted in flour, until the most pathetic looking, absolutely delicious apple tarts emerged. And they were even better than I remembered...especially because I got to watch my baby and her Nana make them together. I hope it gave Grams a smile, too. :)

Notice my Dad, a.k.a. Papa or "Puppy" (Nedy's into nicknames these days...some are better than others...) peeling apples. The man is an apple-peeling machine. He can peel an apple in one strip in about 10 seconds.