Boot Camp Grandma

Childhood memories of the Maple Tree

2010-03-30T15:04:00.000-07:00

I have no memory of when the Maple was planted and vague memories of it growing to its majestic height. One of the vague memories that surfaced is of Dad staking the tree when it was in it’s infancy to help it to grow straight and tall. We children grew up with this tree, each of us growing in stature as the years went by. Soon the tree outstripped our upward growth by leaps and bounds, we stopped growing taller, not so this wonderful tree. It reached for the sky as its limbs grew outwards each year adding inches and then feet to its girth. What started out, as a quick raking of its leaves in the fall became a daunting task for the unlucky one chosen to clean the lawn in the fall of the year. The burning of the leaves in the steel barrel in the early years sent a tiny plume of smoke skyward as the years went by this simple task also multiplied by the shear volume of the leaves that needed to be disposed of. No longer a small plume of smoke broke the stillness of the night air, now great volumes of black smoke came forth from the mouth of the barrel, a barrel that had outgrown this fall ritual.

When we young children first attacked the Maple with our climbing feats we found easy access to the branches from the ground but by the time the youngest of my siblings was old enough to try the climb there were no longer branches that could be reached by just standing on the lawn under the tree. A ladder was now needed to lean against the tree trunk so that the brave one could reach the first branches that were many feet in the air to start their ascent to the upper most reaches of the tree.

The tree was not only a playground for us McEachern children; as the years went by it became the main focal point of our social gatherings as a family. In the early years when we gathered around the tree in our lawn chairs the sun’s intense heat was barely diminished by the sparse leaves that grew overhead. By the time that my parents moved from the property where that tree stood, we, all of our relatives and most of the neighborhood was easily protected from the suns rays by the huge canopy of leaves that stretched out ten feet in every direction from the core of the tree. Majestic is a minimalist verb to describe how the tree looked in its full summer foliage.

A tribute to my daughter Deborah

2010-03-30T15:01:00.000-07:00

I hope I do not ramble too much in this note to you but there has been all sorts of thoughts running through my mind this last hour or so. As I was thinking I realized that I needed you to know how much I love and respect you. There are many reasons so I will start:

The love you have shown me in all your writings has not gone unnoticed, like your story of Donna that showed how much you love me and fear for my health. You have written other stories that show the huge amount of respect that you have for me. In these stories I have read between the lines and see the understanding that you have today of the methods that I used in raising you and Rod. Raw and un-knowledgeable as they were I know you understand today that I was doing the best I could to keep you safe and try to guide you to adulthood.

I love you for having the strength to follow your instincts when you decided to go to Darwin, that leap of faith took a huge amount of courage on your part. You left everything and everyone you were familiar with to go to love, what a wonderful thing you did!

I love you for your pain and tears in raising your children, you dig in like a small pit bull and fight for your children to keep them on track and keep them safe. I have a picture with the caption "No pain, no gain" how true when raising children. We have in common many things and I think the commonality of the pain and tenacity that it takes to raise children has brought us much closer and for this I am so thankful. I applaud you for digging deep and going past your ghosts to be strong in heart and mind to raise your children with so much love.

I have heard your pain and doubt about how you handle situations with the kids, especially Travis but you have listened, read, questioned and in the end done what is best for your children. You are a strong woman and a wonderful mother.

I see you unfailingly send out birthday cards to all that you care about and for the most part never receiving acknowledgement. That you cared enough to remember everyone shows me the wonderful fibre that you are made of, I am proud to be your mother.

You have given me lip, laughter, catastrophic fear, feelings of pride (boastful pride I might add), feelings of intense anger, tears and I would not change one moment of any of those feelings. The above listed are what have kept me on my toes over the years and enriched my life.

Since you were four years old I have been in awe of your quick mind and capacity to learn, never lose that capacity dear, keep your mind running free as you explore the years ahead of you. Remember to give and receive hugs from Darwin and the kids at every opportunity it is the best medicine that you can every take.

One of my most favourite memories is of the times that I sat on the couch with you and or Rod and you leaned on me, I knew you were safe at those moments, that was important to me. In my mind I can still feel how soft your hair was as I stroked your head that laid on my knee. Fill your life with those types of memories and it will bring you warm fuzzy feeling as you get older as it does to my tonight.

You my daughter have my love and respect but not because of blood, you have it because you have earned it year after year by being who you are.

Tribute to Bolo

2010-03-30T14:58:00.000-07:00

Bolo is a dog - just a dog some would say - they would be so wrong in saying so – he is much more than just a dog.

Bolo is my son’s dog – he has been an intricate part of my son’s life for eleven years – he is sick – he is dying.

He is noble – nasty to almost all but a very select few – I am honoured to be in the count of the ones he loves.

He has a very aggressive cancer that started in his jaw – it is spreading making his face swell – he is sick most days – some days throwing up his food two or three times – it is getting worse for him daily.

As it gets worse for Bolo - the worry and sadness grips me – leaving me weak with grief – grief for Bolo – grief for my son who I fear will be lost without his "buddy" here.

Bolo still eats - goes to the bathroom - goes for walks with Rod and April - still plays fetch with a stick even though chewing on the stick causes his mouth to bleed - he still barks and harasses the mail man - he still has a quality of life even though it is getting lesser each day for him.

I have learned to love this dog – a dog that scared me so much five years ago that I could not be near him – now I can stroke his head – look him in the eye – he has only ever allowed Rodney and I to look into his eyes – I am honoured that he chose me to be the one other person that he truly trusts.

I know this question has been asked trillions of times by trillions of people and I am asking it now – how do you let some one go that you love so much?

Just thinking of the day that Bolo must leave us brings me to my knees – I will need some one to hold me up that day as I will not be able to stand on my own – the pain I will feel will be too great.

Already I am crying - for myself and the loss that will be with me for a very long time - for my son who has been through so much these last four weeks since his daughter was born - soon he must make the decision.

Amost six years ago now, how time passes!!!

2010-03-30T14:56:00.000-07:00

I got my first time alone with Vanessa tonight. Her Mommy and Daddy asked if I would watch her for an hour or so while they did a few things in town.

YOU BET!!!!!!!!! Could not say yes fast enough. They were not out of the driveway when she awoke crying bigggggggggggggg time. I did the obvious and checked her diaper, sure enough poopy. After the change I thought she would go back to sleep for a half hour or so till she was due for her next feeding. NOT!!!!!!!!!! Major crying, major mad!

So with this tiny tyke under one arm I tried to get her bottle warmed as the nipple for the bottle was boiling for the required time to sterilize it.....let me tell you....I did not go fast enough to suit her and you know the old saying a watched pot never boils.....she howled as we awaited the nipple sterilization and the warming of her milk I cuddled and rocked her and tried her pacifier to calm her - NOT. Boy does she know the difference between some thing that fills her tummy and that impersonal pacifier that gives nothing.

As she is a breast fed baby for the majority of the time she suckles the bottle way too hard and gets too much milk too fast. She choked after the first few sucks - tilt up, chin back, get her to breath again - she starts to cry - bottle to mouth again - too fast again - up on shoulder - she cries back to feeding position MORE FOOD her cry says! - make her stop again, this time she burps up some of the milk but a bubble of air also - back to bottle - burp time again, this time after a couple of gentle position changes and some rubbing, shazam, a nice big burp. Opppppssss as she starts to suck again she lets a wet one rip down below - by this time she has almost finished the last of her bottle so I undress her and change the second pooopy diaper - change her sleeper as it is wet around the neck from the wettttttttttt burp a while ago - as I am in the mist of the changes my phone rings - oh well - next thing I know Mom and Dad's car comes racing in the driveway and within seconds they are both stepping through my patio door - needless to say it was them phoning from a pay phone around the corner to check up on us and when the phone went unanswered they raced home....LOL.....how like brand new parents.

Upon checking her out off they went again to finish up their errands. Now I swaddled her and fed her the tiny amount that was in the bottom of the bottle and was sitting enjoying talking to her and telling her how beautiful and smart she was when her Mommy and Daddy came back.

And that is how my first baby sitting event went with Miss Vanessa.

Melissa's thought on facing losing Grandparents

2010-03-30T14:53:00.000-07:00

Many years ago at my granddaughters last baseball tournament, she (Melissa) pointed out some thing that I had not thought of in her young life.

Her mom had just finished commenting on how lucky she was to have all the extended family to watch her play. Saying that Grandma Mackenzie, Grandma Lorna and Grandma Deloris has all seen her play ball as well as three of her Grandfathers.

Instead of being happy about Deb's comment she teared up and said "but it is just going to be harder and I will have to be sad over and over again when they die".

She did touch on a hidden sadness of mine of losing so many of my family and friends, many at a young age. As she is such a loving young girl/woman she indeed will feel much pain as we age and die.

Travis you are special to me because:

2010-03-30T14:48:00.000-07:00

Of all my grandchildren, you are the one who most reminds me of myself when I was younger.

You have been a fighter, an instigator, a disruptive volcano, a challenge to help direct in the right direction to say the least.

On the other side you are the big brother who enhances your younger sibling lives, you protect, teach, cheerlead and are just plain there when they need and want you.

You and I have many small squirmishes between us, I know I have learned a lot about you and your needs through these small battles. I have seen your worst and I have seen your best and I love and admire all parts of both the worst and the best.

I remember the challenge you through out that summer day on the back patio - in anguish you cried: "I will win the battle" I remember well our back and forth volley of angry words, "no I will" - "No way I am" back and forth, back and forth we went, neither of us getting to far. But the thing that I remember the most was telling you "No Travis I will win the war and do you want to know why? - because if I do not - we both loose".

Well my wonderful grandson, yes I did win that battle and together we both won the war!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You have challenged me to be better, a better parent, better grandparent and a better person. You even managed to help me be more articulate and use less profanity in my language (nothing like hearing your grandson recount your swear words to his best friend on the telephone) - please for your old Granny....LOL soften some of the language when years down the road you tell your children about your potty mouth" Grandma Mackenzie pitching fits.

You have immortalized me as the "WHASSSSSS UP" Grandma and for that you are special to me, you teased me into being young at heart and enjoying the moment, it allowed the child in me to come out and play.

Remember as you take on adulthood, never! lock up that child inside, always give that child permission to play and be happy!

You are the only you in this whole wide world, you are unique, you are special and you are loved by many.

Me being one of them, your Grandma Mackenzie

THE CHERRY TREE IN THE BACK YARD

2010-03-30T14:41:00.000-07:00

My cherry tree has become undressed of her leaves with the exception of eight leaves that waft gently in the slight breeze of the morning.

She has over the last month slowly unclothed herself of the other ten thousand or so relatives of the eight remaining leaves, these relatives one by one fell gently to the lawn below.

Her sturdy trunk supports nine gnarled branches, each reaching out horizontally, some to the south west, some to the north east, others to all points of the yard. Each of these branches now bare of their summer foliage glaringly show nodules that appear in areas where pruning has taken place over this trees long life; looking much like the swollen knuckles of a hand with arthritis.

The new branches from this last year’s growing season poke out every direction, slim hopeful spikes that want to add to the tree they call home. These new spikes of growth are similar in appearance to the thorns on a cactus, growing out and up, striving to reach the sky on the warm summer days. Sadly most of these spiky new branches will not feel the sun of next summer, they will fall this next spring to the pruning that must happen, to better allow the growth of a new crop of cherries. Cannot deplete the energy of the tree to save this new growth, must be harsh, the blossoms that will come in the spring will need all of the tree’s life energy to grow to the sweet, succulent cherries that will become the trees gift to all.

Today it is snowing and the sturdy gnarled limbs of the tree on the upside of their arms are cradling and holding the flakes that are falling. She is coating herself in a new set of clothes for the winter months, white this season. She will once again dress in green when spring arrives, she will add shades of pink and white as her blossoms mature, then in the summer flaming red will appear as the cherries ripen; lastly as fall returns next year she will turn shades of orange and red as her leaves change before she sheds again.

She is a majestic tree, no matter what season she is in!

My types of snow

2010-03-30T14:40:00.000-07:00

Snow if it could be furious, that is the name I would give to the snow falling here right now. Day started off calm, cloudy, overcast; it changed to rain till the last hour when it started to snow with abandon. Just the snowflakes I can see from my window would be in the trillions, around the area gazillions of determined flakes are falling. These are not soft, wafting flakes, they are angry pounding flakes determined, hell bent to hit the ground as quick as possible. They are wet, smaller flakes that accumulate at an alarming rate.

Never took notice much of the kinds of snow that fell over the years, my eyes must be awakened this year as I have seen four different kinds of snow falling this year; the gentle tiny flakes; the soft lazy fat flakes that indifferently fall; the determined angry wet flakes of today and the focused small flakes that are of medium density that can over night turn into a foot of snow on the ground.

My observation for today.

A Grandmother Passes

2009-04-11T01:09:00.000-07:00

Has this happened to you? I can say honestly that it has happened to me.

A card, letter, story read, television show watched or an email read has a theme or a mantra that I genuinely believe at the time that I am going to put into practice in my life. The messages that I have seen or read are different variations of “make sure you tell loved ones that you love them before it is too late” or something to that effect.

Too soon the actions of living and surviving take control of my mind and that fleeting thought of telling the ones I value and love gets lost or sorely minimized in my daily schedule. I look back and can remember when many opportunities were there that would have made my life fuller and another’s happier.

I am writing this in the hope that everyone who reads this will take the time “to cherish” the people in their lives; take that small amount of time to say “I value you, I respect you or I love you. I do not want you to have to experience the sadness or regret that can come from not having told someone how much they mean to you while they were still alive. The family of the woman I write about today had to say words to her never knowing if she understood.

Today this Good Friday my sister Allana’s ex-mother in law died of a massive stroke. Her name was Barbra and she was eight-nine years of age.

Allana left her home on Thursday afternoon to travel to and visit with her daughter and grandchildren in Armstrong for the Easter weekend. Armstrong is a small town north of Kelowna. Night was beginning to fall by the time she reached Kelowna, where her ex-mother in law lived, she stopped for the night intending to resume her trip to Armstrong in the morning. The next morning as Allana was doing the dishes in Barbra’s kitchen; Barbra entered and asked Allana to pull out a chair for her as she could not. Allana noticed that Barbra’s right arm was hanging at her side, Allana asked her to lift the arm, when she was unable to so Allana ran to the bedroom where her son (he lived with his grandmother) was sleeping calling to him that she thought there was something wrong with Gram.

She was gone from the kitchen no more than a few seconds, when she came back into the room she could see that Barbara had worsened, she had collapsed and was un-responsive. She now screamed for her son to get up and call 911.

Mid morning is when Allana called me to talk about what had happened, she called again just after lunch to say that the Doctor’s had done a Cat-scan on Barbra and discovered that she had suffered a massive stroke, in effect leaving her brain dead. Allana’s ex-husband had been called and was driving the three and a half hours to Kelowna as we spoke the second time. The rest of Barbara’s children and grandchildren gathered in the late afternoon. Once everyone had arrived at the hospital and were able to say their goodbye’s to the unconscious Barbara she was taken off life support and passed away shortly after.

Today another grandmother is gone from the ones who loved her. I felt for my sister Allana, she had lived in real time the loss of her children’s paternal grandmother. The day that she had just gone through was almost an exact replay of how our mother died nine years ago. The group of family that gathered today and that of our family nine years ago were left with having to say that we loved the Mother/grandmother that lay in the bed more to ourselves than to the vibrant person who had been such a large and important part of our lives.

BCG

Melissa, Vanessa, Chantelle

2009-04-09T00:25:00.000-07:00

Melissa, Vanessa, Chantelle - the other special granddaughters in my life - I will be writting soon about them - along with Ashley, Travis, Aric and Matt the three girls make a total of seven grandchildren for me - lucky or what? Yes I am!

The vines and the mushies

2009-04-08T21:00:00.000-07:00

This story takes place about ten years ago – at a time when I thought of myself as vibrant and still youthful – looking through the eyes of a three and a half year old, dashed those thoughts right out of my brain one early morning 

My sister Allana and I were visiting my daughter and her family and had partied pretty good the evening before – I crawled out of bed – needing desperately to wake my foggy brain - took myself outside to the back deck for my morning cup of tea and my vice the morning cigarette – even though it was a chilly morning I was still in my nighty and housecoat – soon after taking my first sip of tea Aric (the blond baby) came out to join me – I had my legs crossed and he soon noticed a cluster of small spider veins on the inside of my right knee – he said “Grandma what are those vines” – “What vines?” I say – “the ones on your leg” Aric replies – I realize that the vines he is talking about is the spider vein array on my knee – after all he is not yet four and to him veins are vines – I try to explain to this little tyke how I came to have this display that has caught his attention – his only concern is “does it hurt Grandma?” – I reassure him that it does not hurt – by this time I am a little self conscious of my newly names “vines”

Satisfied that the “vines” do not hurt – he then asks me “what are those mushies?” “Mushies, what mushies Aric?" I say – “those ones under your chin” he replys – takes me a few minutes to understand what he is talking about – his focus has changed from my knee to the small folds of skin that have started to develop on my neck directly under my chin - they have now become the object of his fascination – okay, the morning had not being going well due to the hangover I was dealing with - it had just gotten way worse with the honest observations of this little man! Having had enough “honest critique” from this much too inquisitive child I try to encourage him to go into the house - it is sunny but cold and he is sitting in his patio chair chattering from the cold – no such luck – he says “I’m okay” – the blue that was setting in around his lips belied this utterance - okay I am not winning around this imp on this morning so I go into the house and find a quilt to wrap him in.

Not long after he is comfy and warming my sister Allana comes out on the deck to join us – he turns his attention to her – I am thrilled, the grilling I had been getting had the same effect on me as a balloon has when the rubber casing is pierced with a pin – deflated, oh yes!

At his tender age, Aric had a multitude of question running around in his mind and he tried valiantly to ask them all this day – Sis Allana had expressed great glee as I told her how my morning had been going before she had joined us – very soon it was to be my turn to get a good laugh at her expense - one of our Mother's favourite sayings "what goes around, comes around" was about to happen.

Sitting on Deb’s deck there was a wonderful view of the surrounding hillside that was heavily dotted with trees – the landscape of trees were as varied as the shades of green they were cloaked with – Aric had been telling Allana a story of how his Dad had taken him up the hill and they had found a special log
– he waves vaguely toward the north – “up there” he says as he points to the far away hills – Allana nods her head – Aric says “can you see it?” Allana without having turned her head towards the hills as they talked says “Yes” Aric sits there for a moment his brow creasing, deep in thought – his face lights up and he says “what did it look like?” Allana sputtered – turned a light shade of red – got up off her chair and headed with great haste off the deck, back inside the house – never having answered his question of “what did it look like?”

Now doubled over with laughter - this part of the morning ended as a voice from inside the house announced that “breakfast was ready” still smiling I left the deck to join other for pancakes and eggs.

BCG

Highs and lows

2009-04-08T18:27:00.000-07:00

Highs and Lows

Introducing Travis

Travis is my eldest grandson – he and I have been working in my yard these last few sunny days – he pruning my fruit trees – me picking up the limbs from the ground, placing them into the wheelbarrow – he wheeling the wheel barrow to a dumping ground on the next street over – at least that is what we did yesterday – today he decided no more wheeling – much more fun to burn the branches in the burn barrel at the back of the property – can’t find any gas in my gas can – I say “paper for a starter” – he says “NO” – goes to my shed and finds a container of paint thinner – sprinkle in barrel – light fire – not burning well – I rake pine needles – we add to barrel – lots of smoke! – he cuts a pokey stick – I insert stick into mass of pine needles saying “making air hole” – he laughs but I had last laugh, it worked – soon a roaring blaze consuming the branches.

Stop for lunch – he has a passion for among other things, tuna – I butter bread, he opens tuna, chops pickles (have to be baby dills – no bread and butter pickles for Trav) he adds salad dressing – I fill sandwiches cut diagonally (his request) we sit down for lunch – discussion starts about age – I say something to the effect of him being twenty – “no Gram, I am twenty-one” then he says something about time going to pass faster now that he is twenty-one – I say, “not to worry, you will always be young in your mind, look at me I still think I am twenty” I think at this point I asked his opinion on my statement – wrong thing to do – he says “well maybe you are in mind but not your body”! – my face falls – this was one of the lows – making lunch with my twenty-one year old grandson was one of the highs.

As I will write down the road, Travis is the reason that my blog is named Boot Camp Grandma

Closing the barn door

2009-04-08T11:50:00.000-07:00

Matt is my daughter (Deb) and her husband (Darwin)'s youngest - in the picture he is the one with his mouth open, wearing glasses - the blondie is his older brother Aric - what follows is just a typical day in the life of Matthew - or rather one of the many adventures he has had in his eleven years

The day of December 5th, 2008

This morning Deb phoned, she said during the conversation that she had told Matt if he wanted to play floor hockey at school today he had to take his mouth guard and his helmet to school.

LOL....this is like closing the barn door after the horses have gone.

Yesterday my day started off with a call from Deb at her work, I was asleep when the call came. "Could you go to the school and pick up Matt and take him to the dentist, he was playing floor hockey before school and got hit in the mouth and has a chipped tooth"

I rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, dressed, got in the jeep, drove through the local A&W got a breakfast bun and headed for the school about 20 mins. from my home. I arrived to find Matt on the couch in the entrance, a teacher Mrs. G came out, I said "oh god" after seeing his mouth, she said "I've wanted to say that ever since it happened" she also said "every time I have to put him back together I get another grey hair, I am about to send Matt the bill for my hairdresser."

Matt opened his mouth to show me his latest war wound, chipped tooth be damned! His front upper tooth on his right side is broken in half at a 45 degree angle, his lower tooth directly below the upper tooth is broken almost to the gum. As we leave Mrs. G says "do you have your milk?"

We load into the jeep his hockey stick, his back pack and a small container which holds milk and head to the dentists office. On arriving Matt goes to the back of my jeep and takes out the container of milk, I say "why are you bringing that in are you thirsty?" he says "no, it's got my teeth in it!"

After an hour and a half in the dentist chair, two partial root canals, x-rays and a skim of enamel on the two broken teeth we find that another tooth on the bottom has a small fracture in it also. I pick up some bananas, soft ice-cream and we come back to my place with his lips swollen. As he had said he was hungry I made up a smoothie with the bananas and ice-cream, we picked up a couple of straws when we got the ice cream, he drank some of the first glass and asked for a cloth as the smoothie had "fell" out of his mouth on my area carpet.

This is the child that walked up the slide at the pool backwards and collided with his mother and older brother coming down the slide. The one that just recently had his head stitched up with needle and thread by his father during a camping trip.

Lord, he does cause some us mental anguish, his parents seem to take all this in stride but his grandmother and one of the teachers at his school are and were a wreck most of the day yesterday and every time he gets a new war wound.

Yesterday Deb was at work, and his dad was driving to Kelowna on business, that is why grandma ended up sitting and watching Matt have what was left of his teeth drilled. Yuck! If no infection sets in and the teeth nerves were not permanently damaged the dentist in January will attempt to attach the broken pieces to the teeth.

That is the story of my yesterday.

P.S.I am happy to say that yes, the pieces of the broken teeth were saved and re-attached in January of this year, no infections surfaced and the teeth remained healthy

Introductions

2009-04-08T11:44:00.000-07:00

Professional photo of Ashley at the Miss Canada Pageant in March
of 2008 (just a little birth grandmothers pride here :)

This is Ashley, my oldest granddaughter - I met her for the first time in 1998 – I am her birth grandmother - unfortunately I have seen little of this lovely young woman – geographical and emotional distance has kept me from knowing her as my heart desires - that I have been fortunate enough to have met her and hear small details of her life – I am grateful - as I write about my grandchildren there will be no – sad – happy – bizarre or comedic stories to tell of Ashley’s life – I have only had the privilege of being in her presence three times since meeting her for the first time eleven years ago – this in no way puts her in a lesser compartment of my heart – she like the all of my grandchildren fill and make my heart happy.

Today I start introducing the subjects of this blog – my grandchildren – I am starting with the oldest, Ashley – the following will introduce Matt, he is my youngest grandson – he is a bundle of cosmic energy and has been and will continue to be a huge source of stories for this blog – I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I am enjoying putting it together.

BCG

2009-04-05T14:22:00.001-07:00

Take time to be gentle to yourself - love who you are - Grandmothers are like a fine wine, aged to perfection, robust, and worth the wait till they are full bodied - Never sell yourself short, you are a valued addition to your grandchildren's lives!

Not the typical Grandmother

2009-04-05T11:46:00.000-07:00

Not the typical Grandmother

No - much to the dismay of my family – I am not the kind, cookie baking Grandmother -
that I am not the typical Grandmother in no way lessens my fierce love of each and every one of my Grandchildren – as I add to this blog – you may have serious doubts about that last statement – do not be fooled – I have been and will be - till I pass on a Grandmother tigress where my grandchildren are concerned – true as you will read, one that will box an ear or two when I feel it is warranted – one who in my grandmotherly concern - at my own peril and pain have opened my mouth hurting my own children – the parents of these special children -– of course I am typical in this instance as I firmly believe that my grandchildren are SPECIAL!

BCG