Llama Llama or Yamma Yamma?

   Once a week, Little Two and I carve out time for ourselves. I pick her up early from school for some special girl-time. As I open the door to her schoolroom, she usually gasps as soon as she catches a glimpse of my face. There is nothing much better than the adoration of a grandchild. It stops my heart every time. Most days Little Two drops what she is doing, and runs to me yelling "Nonna, Nonna..." at the top of her little toddler voice. It is music to my ears.
   This last week when I opened the door, Little Two was sitting at the tiny table with her classmates having her afternoon snack, some delectable yogurt concoction. Immediately, I could see the conflict on her face. She kept looking from me to her bowl and back again. That yogurt was just so good. I solved her problem. I pulled a chair up to the table and sat down beside her. To my delight and surprise Little Two proceeded, toddler fashion, to introduce me to all of her teachers and classmates. She pointed and named each person, nodding and grinning with obvious pride. I would repeat each name and she would move to the next. Then she would start all over again. It was hilarious.
    After we packed her things up, we headed back to Little Two's house. Other than playing outside and watching Elmo, Little Two loves nothing better than reading books. (She is part of a long line of book lovers: most notably her great-grandmother, BaBa, and her great-great-grandmother, Lou Lou.) And of course, being the opinionated almost-two-year old that she is, Little Two has her definite favorites...mostly those toddler books with flaps and things hiding behind them, but there is one book to which she returns over and over again: Llama Llama Red Pajama, except she calls it Yamma Yamma Red PaYamma.
     We have our routine down. Little Two reads Llama Llama to me and then I read it to her. She laughs. She takes the book from me, goes back to the beginning, and then we do it again. And again. I am not certain what it is about toddlers and the act of repetition, but doing the same thing over and over again must bring them a sense of comfort and security. All I know is that Yamma Yamma Red PaYamma is burned into this grandmother's brain.

And by the way, if you have not met Llama Llama, you must do so quickly!

Nonna needed a break from Llama Llama, so we headed outside to pick the last of the summer's tomatoes. 

Little Two had to test them to be sure that they tasted just right. They did.

Isn't she just precious?!!!

She undoubtedly has my heart in the palm of her hand....

Some Deliciousness

    There is nothing better than brunch on the porch. Laid back family style. With all of the Southern food groups represented. Bacon. Grits. Sausage. Eggs. Big yeasty sweet rolls. A warmed-up yummy Almond Ring from Merridee's. A big bowl of fresh fruit. Fresh squeezed orange juice, cold milk, and a fresh pot of coffee! Good food. Lots of laughter. But the best part is not the food, it's always the family. Children and grandchildren. It's what The Husband and I love best!

This needs no explanation. I fried up a pound and a half and it was still not enough!

My grandmother Lou Lou's grits recipe...slathered in butter, of course!

Merridee's Almond Ring

Breakfast on the porch

Little One and Little Two diving in! 

Little Two says it's time to explore!

Uncle Bro Bro helps Little One into her favorite tree

Concentration is required

Little Two and her precious Momma

Pappy has the cheese part covered!

And who says you can't have an ice cream sandwich to finish off your breakfast?! Looks good to me.

The Art of Drinking Out of the Hose

     It doesn't take much. Just a bucket, a couple of sponges, a squirt or two of dish soap, plus a scrub brush and a water hose that is continuously running. That was the entertainment du jour for Little One today. I prepped The Daughter by telling her that we were going outside and that we would more than likely get wet. Correct that, we would get soaked. But Little One was game and so was I. With bucket in hand, we set ourselves up on the porch where we scrubbed the outside of the windows and the window sills until they were squeaky clean. Then we watered the ferns so much that they were positively glowing, and finally, we spilled soap and suds over and on nearly everything in sight. But we had fun. And we were entertained. And it was cheap. I figured the cost of the water we bathed ourselves in on the porch was just pennies. And besides, the fig tree got all the run-off, so we are ensuring a happy harvest in a month or so.
   Furthermore, I am most happy to report that Little One has also now mastered the art of drinking out of the hose. This is an important life skill. Little One comes from a long line of women folks who love nothing better than to turn on the hose and squirt water directly into their mouths. The tradition began with Little One's great-great grandmother Lou Lou and over the years has been modified to become an art form.  It also serves its purpose. And nothing tastes better in the world that clear, cold running water from a hose pipe. Especially if one is hot or thirsty. And scrubbing on a porch is hard work, let me tell you. Little One would agree. See for yourself.