Years later, visits were often.  My boyfriend and I (now my husband) would visit all the time.  My Grandmother adored him (except I think for the fact she saw him kissing me out side one of the widows, and she knocked on the window for us to cut it out).  He catered to her every wish; we would always stop by the fish market to pick her up some Swordfish Steaks, or the Chinese restaurant for chicken chow mein.

By then I was a bit bored with the fishing, so my boyfriend and Uncle B would go.  I would stay home with my Grandmother helping cook.  She taught me how to make rose buds out of radishes, run a fork down the side a cucumber, so when you sliced it, it would look more prettier.  She would sit in her rocker knitting, we would talk together for hours.

At times my Uncle would borrow a couple of neighbor’s horses to go riding.  I remember this one time, it had just started to snow and we took off on the horses.  We rode high up into the mountains.  When we reached the top, you could see down into the farms and valleys.  With the fresh snow falling, it seemed like heaven.  Once, I remind you only once, I agreed to go with him cross country skiing.  By the time we made it up to the mountain it was pitch black.  I was cold and mad.  I did not have the energy to go back down.  Which by the way was a huge slope down, and some where the big red barn was in our path.  As I sat down behind a tree crying, my Uncle kept calling my name, but I was so tired and mad I would not answer him.  He was scared to death he had lost me up there.  Finally I came out and took off the skies, half walked half falling down the hill.  By the time I reached the door I was covered in snow, and crying.  I remember my Grandmother being so mad at my Uncle, how could he let this happen to me.  But as most Grandmothers do, she made it better.  A hot tub and a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream.

How I will always treasure these memories.