Georgia Dream

These pictures were to come at the end of my story, but they didn't cooperate.

Sawyer is starting to want to do whatever Isaiah does. They all decided to follow suit.

( a scene great grandma Barbara doesn't get tired of watching-great exercise as well)

I'm sorry but I just can't help but tell on Grandma Barbara this morning.

This morning when I got up Mom at 8:10, she said she was dreaming about Georgia and she didn't get to finish her dream. It sounded like she really enjoyed that dream. She talked about going to Jimmy Carter's Sunday School class and about other people that I didn't know. Whatever the dream, I knew she was in a good mood.

As I set her down at the table for breakfast, the sun was shining through the window and as usual, she informed me that the window was dirty and needed cleaning. I went through my routine answer, that the window is old like her and the dirty look is inside the window and that I can't get to. She said that she has NEVER liked dirty windows and it's something she notices every place she goes and we need to do something about that.

In my prayer before our breakfast, I thanked God for the sunshine, even if it shines through our dirty old window. I thought she was going to loose it. She burst out into a laughter that I haven't heard from her in a long time! Through out breakfast she was telling stories about the Nursing Home, her Georgia dream, and her home life from years ago. The funny thing was, the stories were all mixed into each other.

Yesterday while sitting on the porch, she wondered if we couldn't do something about making things a bit greener and could we cut the bushes lower and when is Wil going to put that post in for horses, that would make it look nicer. In the next breath, it's just so nice out here, I wish I could come out here every day. We do go out there every day but I'm learning not to make a deal about remarks like that.

She simply loves to have the great grandchildren come. She likes to watch them run on the ramp and doesn't even mind their fussy times. Almost every morning at breakfast she talks about them and hopes they come over again.