Life in the Cheese Drawer

stubbornness is quite the thing in the derry family. if you haven’t experienced german stubbornness, then pray you never do, because there is no greater piece of stubbornness than a german stubborn person. 
grandma derry, despite the very irish last name, is 100% german. her house is spotless, she likes everything in its place, and man is she stubborn. 
except she doesn’t think so.
one time maybe 10 years ago she was visiting the wallace household (which, though very scottish in sound, was a very german household as well), and the topic of stubbornness came up. grandma sure didn’t see it as stubborn; she was determined. so a debate ensued as to whether or not determined was just a nicer way of saying stubborn. 
if you know the wallaces, you know we’re word people. of course there’s a giant dictionary just hanging out in the living room on a podium. (of course.) so i sauntered over to the dictionary and looked up the word determined and read the definition out loud.
one of the first words to describe determined? stubborn. then some more discussion about stubborn versus determined happened (it’s quite the meeting of the minds with a bunch of stubborn germans in the room), and so i looked up stubborn.
“why grandma!” i exclaimed. “your picture’s right here in next to stubborn in the dictionary!” 
then of course she did her little scrunchy frownie face, waved her hand, and said “oh you,” like she does when she’s been had. 
nothing like alleviating a little stubbornness with a little humor.

one of the best things about going to grandma’s house is that there is always baked goods and better food than at your own house. 
growing up, my parents bought boring breakfast cereal, grape nuts flakes. maybe rice krispies if it was a real exciting week. so when we visited grandma and breakfast time rolled around, oh boy! she kept her cupboard stocked with coco krispies, coco puffs, froot loops, and other fun cereals; there was also always a loaf of cinnamon raisin bread. breakfast at grandma’s house was always a treat.
in later years, when i was living in st cloud and grandma was still living at home, every time i’d stop over, without fail there was a square tupperware full of caramel swirl brownies. pour yourself a glass of crystal lite iced tea from the pitcher in the fridge, and you were good to go. granted, the brownies came from a box, but big deal! it was more than what was at my house.
grandma and i drove up to a few family reunions together, and every time we’d pack her bag and boxes of prizes for games, and three ice cream pails of donuts. she’d fry donuts in batches and freeze them so when it was time to get together with family, there’d be donuts.
the past few years, grandma hasn’t been at reunions, and ergo no donuts. it’s also been a little weird visiting her in assisted living and not having brownies or other goodies. but the good news is that she has many descendants who are baking inclined, and it wouldn’t surprise me if we see some donuts this summer at the derry reunion; it would be a fitting tribute.
the quiet oaks hospice grandma is at right now is stacked to the gills with baked goodies and sugary cereals for breakfast. there is a candy dish on every flat surface, which is something that grandma always had at her house. stars aligned, and we have come full circle on baked goods. 

it was pretty common for my mom and me to take grandma derry on cemetery excursions over memorial day. we would go visit grandpa derry in the st cloud cemetery, then head up to albany to visit relatives of the german persuasion from days of yore. the albany cemetery is a great location, and the huge, drooping pines and older headstones really make the albany cemetery one of those you’d see in a movie. (by the time my grandparents moved to st cloud and were looking at cemetery plots up there, the albany plots were very expensive.)
our first stop was a garden center to pick up geraniums and other flowers, then we’d head to the cemeteries with grass clippers and boxes. one year, jane came with us, and we headed out to the st cloud cemetery. 
we pulled in by grandpa’s headstone and got out, grabbing our gear. grandma was taking a look at the grounds, and she motioned with her hand to the other side of the cemetery,
“well look – it’s all filled in over there.”
and i, being miss inappropriate that i am these days (and all days, every day, apparently), said,
“well, people die every day.”
that set off my mom giving me a look, and jane just guffawed. (grandma didn’t think anything of it.)
now it’s a running joke. we go to a cemetery – “people die every day!” i say something inappropriate – “people die every day!” memorial day rolls around – “people die every day!”
this may have been the time we cracked up about the untimely demise of grandma’s grandfather by horse-cart crash. was it the lumber? the new team? the cart? drinking and driving? WE WILL NEVER KNOW.