Frog In North Georgia

We picked up Grandma and went to lunch where we ran into Uncle Hugh, who if anyone remembers outranks me because he was born sooner.  He is not really my uncle, but a long time family friend.  He’s (obviously) been around longer than me.

Hugh is my favorite Englishman.  I don’t actually know where he was born or when he and his mother, who married an American, came to America.  But he can affect any form of American or English accent, which is a good party trick.  And of course the accents come and go of their own free will.

We just ordered when he appeared.  He works very close by.  So this was a nice surprise to run into him.  DD is mad about him.  I suspect she is still not convinced that he is not Santa.  Every year around November he grows a shaggy beard.  I had thought it was just for warmth.  But he told me today that no, it’s because the kids think he’s Santa.  And he thinks that’s damn funny.  DD told me today she knows it is Uncle Hugh and not Santa.  But she doesn’t seem certain.  When she was two she was certain he was Santa.

Grandma announced that she saw the French Presidents wife on tv.

I said, “Oh yes, Carla Bruni.  She’s a pop star.”

Grandma is pleased that Carla is a modern woman who has not given up her singing just because she married the French President.

Photo by beyrouth

I like that Sarkozy is of Russian immigrant parentage; and Obama is just as American as I am with his international background. Wahoo, first generation like me.  Then I mentioned that DH got very annoyed with me when I told him that because I was stunned that he did not recognize Sarkozy as a Russian name.

Really?  You didn’t know Sarkozy is Russian?  He hissed at me something like it’s a foreign name baby.

Right, we weird children of immigrant people all have weird names and are all alike in our weirdness.  No offense taken.

Grandma said in a conspiratorial whisper, “We always have a lot of White Russians in France.”

When she says White Russians, she means those with royal lineage, and often money.  I said, “Well now you just have a lot of Russians.  The Wall fell in 1989.”

On the way home we passed the sitting area in front of her building.  It has nice big garden boxes and lawn chairs and is somewhat sheltered from the wind.  It was empty.  Grandma announced, “No Russians today.”

I said, “No Russians today?”

She said, “Yes, we have a lot of them living here.  They like this weather.”

I said, “You mean cold, like the motherland?”

She said she guesses.

I said “Don’t guess, most of their ports are north of the 70th parallel and freeze in the winter.  It’s an excellent reason to invade your southern neighbors.”

She said, “Well, they like to come to France.”

I said, “Grandma, everyone likes to come to France.  The food is good and the economy isn’t collapsing.”

Tags: carla bruni, grandma, russian immigrant, sarkozy is russian, white russians.

Grandma called and announced that it has been about three weeks since we last visited.  So we should come.  That means me and DD. 

We would visit her every week of course - but her calendar is too full for that.  I made sure that she can fit us in.  She doesn’t invite us.  She calls and announces that our presence is required.

This makes me laugh.  Because she thinks this is how invitation works.

Tags: full calendar, grandma, summoned.

I was so busy being surprised that my brother called, that I forgot to tell you about the conversation. That, and the fact I had a crappy day.

I see this number on my phone I don’t recognize, but think it must be my cousin, due to the area code. So I pick up.

It is K. He says something ghetto, like “Hey, was’up?”

I reply hey to him.

He asks if I know who it is.

Duh! You are my brother. We have barely spoken in twenty years. Still, of course I know it’s him!

I tell him yes, of course, is everyone okay? Is his daughter okay? Nobody is in the hospital or anything? (Though last time somebody was he didn’t call.)

He says no, no, he just wanted to call and get Grandma’s number and to speak with me. He asked about DD and how old she is.

He split up with the girlfriend quite a while ago. She took the baby and went home. He said she was a piece of work. I find it really funny that he told me this as though I didn’t grow up with her too. She actually is a few years older than me, so probably five years older than him. Maybe he doesn’t remember her as a kid so much?

He told me about his business, etc.

It was nice actually. Maybe he will turn up again.

Tags: area code, brother, cousin, crappy day, ghetto, girlfriend, grandma, twenty years.

In the more than 50 years she has lived in the United States, Grandma has not come to understand the American palate. She loves barbecue. But she’s baffled by the love of brie.

I brought over camembert, and grapes and a baguette a few weeks ago. She said, “Christine, I don’t understand. Why Americans always like the brie?!”

I told her because it is available. There it is in the grocery, the cheese you ate at Christmas time with your French teacher. It’s much less mysterious than the camembert.

She said, “Hmmph!”

Tags: american palate, barbecue, brie, camembert, cheese, christmas time, french teacher, grandma.

The little Greek man who is courting Grandma is moving into the former apartment of the resident who most recently died. That is generally how it works in senior housing. You visit the places that you might like to live. Then you put your name on the waiting list of the ones you like. Then you wait for somebody to die or move to a nursing home.

When somebody dies the administrator goes down the list calling to see who is still alive that still wants to live there. People who have changed their mind have usually moved into another senior complex, died, moved in with a relative, or gone to a nursing home.

In this case the resident who died most recently jumped out the window to his death. That is another thing about senior housing. If you’re mentally ill, or disabled, you don’t necessarily have to be old to qualify to live there. I don’t know this persons story. But it is assumed that persons who jump from windows are not mentally stable.

Grandma told me that the apartment is vacant in that way that says, I’m not superstitious, but that apartment is cursed.

I announced our arrival at the front door, to make sure I would be allowed to pass and not mistaken for the little Greek man. Fortunately, Grandma heard me. Because I forgot my key.

Tags: administrator, grandma, greek man, nursing home, relative, resident, senior housing, waiting list.

Years old, but still funny.

Me: (Phone rings, see Grandmas number.) Ah, bonsoir.

Grandma: Where are you?

Me: Montreal, stuck in customs.

Grandma: You are coming home?

Me: Yes, that is why I’m stuck in customs.

Grandma: Ok. On Sunday, you travel; I go to mass. (She really means traveled, on previous Sunday.)

Me: Yes.

Grandma: I go to Christ the King. People there are common. They wear jeans, don’t know anything about pageantry.

Me: (trying not to giggle) Ok.

Grandma: We are Episcopalian now. You come on Sunday.

Me: This has nothing to do with the fact that we are both going to burn in hell for being divorced?

Grandma: No. Yes. Now maybe I confess, take communion. You come on Sunday. (Hangs up.)

Me: (Put phone back in bag, trying not to call attention to self by laughing in long miserable line.)

Tags: christ the king, communion, customs, Episcopalian, grandma, mass, montreal, pageantry.

Tags: Bravado, cancer, grandma, optimism, oxygen, terminal.

Tags: business card, gay men, grandma, interior decorator, mother, secret, uncle.

We have beautiful “new” glasses and dishes from Grandma E. I was going to give away everything else that we don’t love. But we’ve already broken so many dishes and glasses that everything fits again.

Tags: dishes, glasses, grandma.