she has a house that feels like it's own secluded world. my brother and i spent a great deal of time at her house when we were smaller and needed the fist of fury that is my oma. (insert sarcasm here.)
when we were sick, we always got to lay on the big couch with the softest blanket she had. she would set up a tv tray with ice water and a straw, a mug of chicken broth, some soda crackers, and the remote control. she would keep a cool compress on our heads and let us sleep and ingest mass quantities of mr. rogers' neighborhood.
there is a pool in her backyard that my papa designed. to date, i've never seen a similarly shaped pool. it has a springy diving board and it used to have a fort nearby, with bean bags and bee hives and an 8-track player. there is a fire pit, around which teenage me and my friends would gather after 8 hours of swimming to roast a few hot dogs and 'mallows.
there is a huge yard, where we had epic easter egg hunts. there were eggs filled with candy, eggs filled with money, foil wrapped rice krispie treats, and a basket for each of us. and as with every holiday, my oma would cook too much, we would eat too much, and we would all collapse in the living room for naps.
the yard is filled with flowers. there are hummingbird feeders, and they come in droves. my oma knows the name of each bird that graces her yard. there are squirrels, and growing up there were always at least 3 desert tortoises walking around. at the end of her yard is a cactus patch that we all call "the desert", because we are terribly creative that way.
inside my oma's house, there is green carpet that my brother picked out, and couches that she hoped weren't "too flowery" when she ordered them (they are COVERED in flowers). there are random magazine clippings of sayings and pictures that she likes. in the kitchen, there is an apple shaped cookie jar, of which i have never seen the inside. there is the piano that my mom used to practice on, and the wine bottle with the different colors of candle wax melted onto the outside. on the fireplace, there is an asian inspired fan and pussywillow branches.
here and there are paintings and drawings she has done, and even though she claims that they're not very good, they are stunning.
but the BEST part about my oma's house? is my oma.
she is quick of wit, and fast with neighborhood gossip (which i LOVE). she has nails that she would use to tickle us with when we were younger, and my mom and i both have my oma's hands. hope she doesn't need those anytime soon!
she is always more than happy to help out in any way she can. there have been more than a few times, in fact, where she has come to the rescue in a huge way.
i love that even at the ripe old age of 26, i am able to go to my oma's house and lose myself in an afternoon of magazines and conversation. we laugh and talk, and she'll dole out candy or cookies or multi-colored marshmallows. we laugh about family members and go through old things in her cupboards.
i'd say i lucked out hugely in the grandmother department.