Grandma Lindsay

My grandma Lindsay use to live where my parents live now. I was close to my grandmother and would visit her often. When we visited her in the winter we would go to the back door and only be allowed into the laundry room. She did not want her house to get dirty. One of my favorite memories is sledding down the hill by her house in the winter time. After a snow storm the town would close off the hill to allow the kids in town to slide down the hill. This was great for us, not only could we leave our sleds there and not drag them back and forth, we could go in and get warm. My grandmother would often sit in the kitchen and talk to us while we sat on the step to get warm. Frequently she would make hot chocolate for us, the old fashioned kind, cocoa, sugar and whole milk. It was the best! I remember those times with fondness and feelings of longing for the time I got to spend with her.

I was talking to Debbi last week and some how the conversation turned to my childhood and I related a story from when I was little. She thought it was pretty funny and made the suggestion that I write some of those experiences down, I said I would, someday. Then a couple of days ago I was doing my visit teaching and one of the sisters that I visit told me that she had started a blog so she could write down stories from her childhood. She said she writes about once a week, I do not know that I am that ambitious. But I thought that was a great idea. Maybe I will add to my blog more often.
Anyway... This is the story I told Debbi. When I was young my family was not active in the church. Mom would take us and drop us off or I would go with my cousin and when I was older I would walk. One week I was asked to give a talk the following week I told them that I would. It must have been at a time I was going with my cousin because I actually went the following week. I think I must have been about 6 or 7 years old. I was asked the next week if my mom had helped me get a talk ready and I said no but that I knew something that I could say. When my turn came I got up and recited a poem I knew about a whooping crane whooping so hard he whooped his head and his tail right off. The last line of the verse was "same song, second verse a little bit louder and a little bit worse". I then repeated the whole thing again only louder. After two or three times they stopped me. I told them I could keep going and they told me no that was good. Debbi asked if everybody was laughing at me. I do recall several adults covering their mouths and my aunt was not very happy, I don't think she took me to church with her again. But I was pretty proud of myself.