This Page

has been moved to new address

Eggs and Manicures

Sorry for inconvenience...

Redirection provided by Blogger to WordPress Migration Service
/* global ----------------------------------------------- */ body { margin: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center; min-width: 760px; background: #ce436e url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_body.gif) repeat-x left top; font-family: helvetica, arial, verdana, "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; color: #632035; } blockquote { margin: 0; padding: 0 10px 0 10px; border-left: 6px solid #f7d8e2; border-right: 6px solid #f7d8e2; color: #ba476b; } code { color: #ba8094; } hr { display: none; } /* layout ----------------------------------------------- */ @media all { #wrapper { margin: 0 auto; width: 760px; text-align: left; } #blog-header { padding-bottom: 15px; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_header_bottom.gif) no-repeat left bottom; } #blog-header div { background: #632035 url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_header.gif) repeat-x left bottom; } #main-wrapper { position: relative; width: 760px; background: #f7f0e9 url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_main_wrapper.gif) repeat-y left top; } #main-content { display: inline; /* fixes a strange ie margin bug */ float: left; margin: 0 0 0 3px; padding: 0; width: 483px; } #content-wrapper { padding: 22px 0 0 0; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_content.gif) repeat-x left top; } } @media handheld { #wrapper { width: 90%; } #blog-header { background:none; } #blog-header div { background: #632035; } #main-wrapper { width: 100%; background: #f7f0e9; } #main-content { float: none; width: 100%; } #content-wrapper { background: none; } } .post { margin: 0 16px 14px 29px; padding: 0; border-bottom: 3px solid #f7d8e2; } #comments { margin: 0 16px 14px 29px; padding: 10px; border: 1px solid #f0ced8; background-color: #f5e4e9; } @media all { #sidebar-wrapper { display: inline; /* fixes a strange ie margin bug */ float: right; margin: 0 3px 0 0; width: 269px; color: #761c37; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_sidebar.gif) repeat-x left top; } #sidebar { padding: 7px 11px 0 14px; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_sidebar_arrow.gif) repeat-y 179px 0; } #blog-footer { padding-top: 15px; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_footer_top.gif) no-repeat left top; } #blog-footer div { background: #491525 url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_footer.gif) repeat-x left top; } } @media handheld { #sidebar-wrapper { float: none; width: 100%; background:none; } #sidebar { background:none; } #blog-footer { background:none; } #blog-footer div { background: #491525; } } #profile-container { margin-bottom: 20px; } #blog-footer { padding-top: 15px; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_footer_top.gif) no-repeat left top; } #blog-footer div { background: #491525 url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_footer.gif) repeat-x left top; } /* headings ----------------------------------------------- */ #blog-header h1 { margin: 0; padding: 26px 0 0 84px; color: #feeef3; font-size: 30px; line-height: 25px; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/icon_header.gif) no-repeat 16px 26px; } h2.date-header { margin: 0; padding: 0 0 0 29px; font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #c88fa2; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/icon_date.gif) no-repeat 13px 0; } .date-header span { margin: 0 0 0 5px; padding: 0 25px 0 25px; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/bg_date.gif) no-repeat 0 0; } h2.sidebar-title { padding: 1px 0 0 36px; font-size: 14px; color: #bd8095; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/icon_sidebar_heading.gif) no-repeat 0 45%; } #profile-container h2.sidebar-title { color: #95526a; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/icon_sidebar_profileheading.gif) no-repeat 0 45%; } .post h3.post-title { margin: 13px 0 0 0; padding: 0; font-size: 18px; color: #ba476b; } #comments h4 { margin-top: 0; font-size: 16px; } /* text ----------------------------------------------- */ #blog-header p { margin: 0; padding: 7px 16px 0 84px; color: #feeef3; font-size: 10px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 14px; } .post-body div { font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0; height:1%; overflow:visible; } .post-body blockquote { margin: 10px 0px; } p.post-footer { font-size: 11px; color: #bd8095; text-align: right; } p.post-footer em { display: block; float: left; text-align: left; font-style: normal; } p.comment-data { font-size: 12px; } .comment-body p { font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px; } .deleted-comment { font-style:italic; color:gray; } .paging-control-container { float: right; margin: 0px 6px 0px 0px; font-size: 80%; } .unneeded-paging-control { visibility: hidden; } #sidebar p { font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 20px; } #sidebar p.profile-textblock { clear: both; margin-bottom: 10px; } .profile-link { padding: 0 0 0 17px; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/icon_profile.gif) no-repeat 0 0; } p#powered-by { margin: 0; padding: 0; } #blog-footer p { margin: 0; padding: 0 0 15px 55px; color: #feeef3; font-size: 10px; line-height: 14px; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/icon_footer.gif) no-repeat 16px 0; } /* lists ----------------------------------------------- */ .profile-data { font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; } .post ul { padding-left: 32px; list-style-type: none; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; } .post li { padding: 0 0 4px 17px; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/icon_list_item.gif) no-repeat 0 3px; } #comments ul { margin: 0; padding: 0; list-style-type: none; } #comments li { padding: 0 0 1px 17px; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/icon_comment.gif) no-repeat 0 3px; } #sidebar ul { margin: 0 0 20px 0; padding: 0; list-style-type: none; font-size: 12px; line-height: 14px; } #sidebar li { padding: 0 0 4px 17px; background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/icon_list_item.gif) no-repeat 0 3px; } /* links ----------------------------------------------- */ a { color: #bf277e; font-weight: bold; } a:hover { color: #96095a; } a.comment-link { /* ie5.0/win doesn't apply padding to inline elements, so we hide these two declarations from it */ background/* */:/**/url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/icon_comment.gif) no-repeat 0 45%; padding-left: 14px; } html>body a.comment-link { /* respecified, for ie5/mac's benefit */ background: url(http://www.blogblog.com/thisaway_rose/icon_comment.gif) no-repeat 0 45%; padding-left: 14px; } #sidebar ul a { color: #e25984; } #sidebar ul a:hover { color: #b02c56; } #powered-by a img { border: none; } #blog-header h1 a { color: #feeef3; text-decoration: none; } #blog-header h1 a:hover { color: #d9b4c1; } h3.post-title a { color: #ba476b; text-decoration: none; } h3.post-title a:hover { color: #902245; } /* miscellaneous ----------------------------------------------- */ .post-photo { padding: 3px; border: 1px solid #ebbdcc; } .profile-img { display: inline; } .profile-img img { float: left; margin: 0 10px 5px 0; padding: 3px; border: 1px solid #ebbdcc; } .profile-data strong { display: block; } .clear { clear: both; line-height: 0; height: 0; } /* Feeds ----------------------------------------------- */ #blogfeeds { font-size: 14px; } #postfeeds { font-size: 12px; }

Tiaras and Trucks

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Eggs and Manicures

Lazily I awaken, the sounds of breakfast coming from the kitchen.  I stretch luxuriously, the satin pillowcase a silky contrast to soft cotton sheets.
"Always sleep with satin next to your face," she instructs.  "It helps keep the wrinkles away."
Maybe she's right about that; my pillowcases are all cotton, and fine lines are creeping around my face, make-up for my emotions, emphasizing my smiles and frowns.
Sizzling butter coats the pan as she cracks open brown eggs, making sure not to break the yolks.  Eggs at Grandma Rose’s house are always the dippy kind, served with hot toast soaked through with real butter. 

Eagerly, I poke at the sunny orb, encouraging the yolks to run across the plate as I gently follow their path with the toast.
The solid egg white I can do without, but Grandma coaxes me to join the clean-your-plate-club, and I take little bites, the promise of our next activity propelling me to finish.
With a reasonably clean plate in front of me, I look expectantly at my Grandma. 
Small bottles sit in front of me, sparkling, glossy, and waiting for my small fingers to close around the cool glass, making my choice.
Only now, as I sit in front of Abbey, letting her choose between pale pink with sparkles and pale pink without, do I understand my Grandma's courage in this moment.
Red.
Gorgeous, stoplight-inspired red.
"That's one of my favorites," she says, nodding in approval and taking the bottle from me without pause.
Watching Grandma shake the bottle, a tiny metal ball magically mixing the polish, I yearn for the day when red or pink or any rainbow shade will grace my fingers, glamorous exclamation points at the end of my arms.
But for today, I am the polisher, not the polishee, perhaps because Grandma knows my mother would prefer my fingers to come home without punctuation.
"Ok, honey, now remember, drag the brush against the bottle to get off the extra polish.  A little more..." her voice is patient, my concentration great.
"Good.  Now don't paint right up to the edge of the nail.  Leaving just a little bit of unpainted nail on the sides makes them look longer.  See?" Perhaps this is true, though it may have been a preemptive attempt to keep red fingernail polish from smearing onto her skin.
Even with her step-by-step guidance and unwavering hand perched atop a tissue, I can see the places where my hand-eye coordination fell short of my determination.
"Perfect!  Thank you so much!" she gushes.
Buoyed, I try to sneak a look at her hands, remembering the smudges on cuticles, the places the brush slipped.
But she is waving her fingers in the air, exaggerating the purse of her lips as she blows on the still-tacky polish.  In motion, they are beautiful, ten glittering gems fluttering through the sky.
Great-Grandma Rose and Abbey Rose

Your assignment for this week is to write about a memory of yourself WITH someone else.

Labels: , , ,

34 Comments:

  • At August 30, 2011 at 10:28 AM , Anonymous funnyorsnot said...

    Great imagery.  It made me miss my own grandma!

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 10:49 AM , Anonymous Amy said...

    This is so wonderful.  I have similar memories with my grandma. 

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 12:23 PM , Anonymous betsy barnes said...

    "glamorous exclamation points at the end of my arms" I love this description!

    Your story made me think of my little girl and her Nana. Every time she comes home from Nana's house it's as if they've been to the spa all day.

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 12:45 PM , Anonymous Vicky Modica said...

    Wow, Ang. You are so nice to read.

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 1:03 PM , Anonymous CDG said...

    My Gramma let me wear her shoes. Her hundreds of pairs of fabulous sparkling, heeled, irridescent, bejeweled shoes... 

    Lord, I miss that.

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 1:37 PM , Anonymous Elaine said...

    At first I thought she as going to paint your nails but I think it's so cute that you painted hers!  I love your images of the breakfast here.  Nice memory... :)

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 4:35 PM , Anonymous Kpiccini said...

    What a gorgeous post, oh my. I had so many memories come flooding of my own grandmas and eggs and pale pink nail polish. Wow..the tears.

    Ang, your descriptions in this piece were so real, so vivid, I was blown away with them. Your wriitng was just as lovely and perfect as your story about Grandma Rose was.

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 5:39 PM , Anonymous jentos23 said...

    Sooo sweet. What a precious memory to have. I have the BEST memories of my grandma :)

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 6:43 PM , Anonymous Kimberly said...

    What a beautiful post and precious memory. Things like this always remind me of my grandparents and our treasured memories. So sweet.

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 7:48 PM , Anonymous Hopes@Staying Afloat! said...

    You write so beautifully!  Your description of breakfast immediately transported me back to when I was a little girl spending the night at my grandmothers house and awakening to the sound of her cooking breakfast.

    I'm so glad to have those memories, as I'm sure you are as well. 

    Such a touching post! 

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 8:57 PM , Anonymous Terry Stoufer said...

    Wow, way to explode the moment! I was told to come see yours as a model of what I should be trying...and they were right. You captured the moment and brought it to life! Beautiful story, beautifully written.

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:02 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    Seriously?  Your comment made me cry.  THANK YOU.  You absolutely made my day :)

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:25 PM , Anonymous shellthings said...

    Such a vivid memory!

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:28 PM , Anonymous missy bedell said...

    SO sweet.  I love this memory.  It reminds me so much of my grandma and my kids' relationship with my mom!

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:31 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    It's nothing like my kids' relationship with my mom :)  LOL, my mom is the most un-frou frou person on the planet; maybe that's why I appreciated my girly-girl grandmas so much!

    I'm glad it reminded you of your grandma & mom :)  It's such a good memory for me!

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:33 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    Thank you; that makes me happy, because my memory is not so great.  I remember parts of it so very vividly, so I describe those and hope that the rest of it falls into place.

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:34 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    Wasn't that awesome?  My mom definitely didn't make eggs in butter for breakfast, plus we had a colonial, so the kitchen was far from our bedrooms.  Sleeping over at my grandma's was so much fun.

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:35 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    Thank you!  I like that it's reminding people of their own great memories. 

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:35 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    Grandmas rock.  That's just all there is to it :)

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:36 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    Aw, thanks Kir!  My mom mentioned on facebook that my Grandma Rose and I are kindred spirits, and it's so true. 

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:37 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    My mom (and dad to be fair) might have had a heart attack if I would have come traipsing in with blood red fingernails.  LOL

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:38 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    Ahhh, my other grandma (my Nan) is my shoe grandma.  Plus she has tiny feet, so they weren't impossibly large ;)  It sounds like your Gramma had quite the collection.  I bet it was magical to play in her closet.

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:38 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    Thanks Vicky!  I need to message you again...

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:39 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    Thank you!  How fun that your daughter and her Nana have spa days.  My grandma also used to let me dig through her make-up, and that was back when make-up counters would bog you down with samples.  So. Much. Fun.

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:44 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    I love hearing that.  Grandma memories are the best.

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 9:44 PM , Anonymous Angela said...

    Thank you!  I have two amazing grandmas; I'm really lucky :)

     
  • At August 30, 2011 at 10:41 PM , Anonymous Cheryl said...

    So very, very sweet, Angela!

     
  • At August 31, 2011 at 5:26 AM , Anonymous Mama Wants This said...

    Your Grandma Rose is a gem. I love that Abbey has her name as her middle name. Perfect.

     
  • At August 31, 2011 at 8:10 AM , Anonymous Coming East said...

    "...fine lines are creeping around my face, make-up for my emotions, emphasizing my smiles and frowns."  Gorgeous writing.  Great description of this moment.

     
  • At August 31, 2011 at 9:41 AM , Anonymous Barbara, via Write on Edge said...

    Great post! Not only did I get a lovely sense of your relationship with your grandmother, I got a lovely sense of your relationship with your daughter!

    Hmmm.... for concrit, I would offer that I did have to read your post twice to really understand who "Abbey" was and when the voice was that of your "current" self and your "past self". On the other hand - it was definitely worth the re-read!

    Fantastic ending: "in motion, they are beautiful, ten glittering gems fluttering through the sky.!!!

     
  • At August 31, 2011 at 11:24 AM , Anonymous Aleta said...

    Awwwww, this is so incredibly sweet.  The relationship with your grandmother is clearly seen with and between the words.  Lovely!

     
  • At August 31, 2011 at 11:27 AM , Anonymous Karen @ Time Crafted said...

    Wonderful, Angela. I loved the descriptions of your egg, your nail polish selection (I could *see* a little hand grasping it), and the way you ended your story, your memory. It's making me think of different time with all of my grandparents and seeing what memories I have tucked away. :>

     
  • At August 31, 2011 at 2:23 PM , Anonymous Lady Jennie said...

    I want to cry at the beautiful imagery in this post.

     
  • At September 2, 2011 at 12:15 AM , Anonymous Andrea B. said...

    I actually just finished this and said, aloud, to an empty room, "My G-d, this is so beautiful." Oops. But to you - it IS. I love it. I'm late in catching up on these posts and loved every second of this one, down to the picture.

    And this line is my total fave:

    "But for today, I am the
    polisher, not the polishee, perhaps because Grandma knows my mother
    would prefer my fingers to come home without punctuation."

    Adored it!

     

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home