Happy birthday to my grandma

Ma, a silly name for such an extraordinary grandmother, would have been ninety-three years old today. Grandad would have undoubtedly spent much of his day pleasurably twitting her about the fact that she was three years older than him and reminding her that when they went to get their marriage license? He had to get his mother's permission, hee hee.

You were loved when you were with us and you're loved still. I always enjoy this day because there are so many happy memories of the time we spent together to sift through and smile about. Today I've been thinking about the time you and I were learning how to mount a horse and we finally got your foot in the stirrup and up, up, up you went -- only to come over Chelsea's other side to land in the grass.

You made everything you touched beautiful. Including that grass. But not the horse. She was a stinker.