My adorable parents sent me 10 boxes in the mail while “stationed” in Phoenix helping Grandpa downsize. It felt like Christmas morning when I happened to go to my front porch to grab some basil, and there was a gigantic stack of boxes with my name on them.
(You couldn’t knock, UPS man, and let me know? Geesh. I found out soon enough the quality of the UPS delivery man, however.)
However, a few survived.
Enough survived that I could at least entertain with.
My Grandma passed away while my family (and I) were still living in Germany. I really never got to know her. I don’t have much from her, except a few pictures and a quilt she made for me as a baby.
So, who wants to come over?