Grand Memories | Lacey of So Everyday

Lacey is a friend. Like, in real life friend. I've known her for a few years and I've loved her blog, So Every Day, for as long as I've known it has existed. I love her voice and her honesty. Aaaaand, she and her family just got back from a fabulous road trip to all places Laura Ingalls Wilder. So, you should probably hightail it over to her blog and read all about it. Because seriously. The little house books were my childhood addiction!

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It's outdated.

Printed first in 1931.

The Searchlight Recipe Book.

The category tabs are frayed and browned from age and finger-turning. 

It was my grandmother's cookbook.

And her diary too.
Scrawling pencil lines scratched across the copyright page and beside the fish section. A memory of Thanksgiving past right beside the recipe for horehound candy.

It's a gift.

And a memory.
A treasure.

Because I don't possess scads of those with my grandmother.
I don't know lots about her and we didn't get to spend decades growing close.

I know that my grandmother loved my momma.
And I know she loved to cook bacon for breakfast and to be certain to stuff my younger brother with extra servings on our visits to her house. 

She kept RC Cola in glass jars on her tiny back porch and the top left drawer in her kitchen was our favorite. In it we would find saved rubber bands from the daily newspaper and cracker jack box trinkets. 

She was walking home from school when she was thirteen. Some boys accidentally shot her with a BB gun and her eye sight in one eye was permanently lost.

She wore legitimate house dresses and curled her short white hair and loved Kentucky Fried Chicken and High's ice cream.

And I hold this falling-apart old book in my hands 

and it matches my falling apart memories of my grandmother. 

But I know she loved and she passed that love on 

and that is legacy enough.