The colors and the texture of these towels just brought back a flood of memories: Gramma’s Fiestaware, the turquoise blue butterfly chair, those metal geese flying over those HUGE white leather recliners, Mexican blankets on the extra beds, and that funny, impossibly small metal table and chair in the bathroom off the breezeway … I don’t even know what I remember and what I’m conjuring up in my own mind.

It makes me think of Gramma yelling “Paul? Paul!” from inside while she got everything together and Grampa outside having a laugh while he entertained everyone. I think of Gramma coming to the top of the boathouse to watch us playing down below in the water or for us to zoom by in the boat. I think of the meals. Oh my gosh. All the food.

I’m absolutely certain that, as a result of my time spent at my grandparents, these days when I’m hosting a large meal it somehow doesn’t feel complete unless I offer crudités like olives and fancy little pickles … It wouldn’t be a holiday meal at our house without a door prize … and I have an EXTREMELY hard time following recipes without some sort of spontaneous change to the ingredient list. These are all things that must be deeply embedded in my DNA because I swear they happen without me even thinking about them!

It all comes back to style, though. It was the big things like the huge windows overlooking the lake and the repeated use of white – even the rocks that bordered the driveway were painted white! It was the little things like the fancy ashtrays and the many different glasses. It was the blessings at the meals. It all came together in Hattie’s own style.