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Onorato More Content Now Posted May. 6, 2015 at 9:00 AM » Social News I was sipping my second cup of coffee while making out my grocery list when I heard a rattle and a swish. “Uh-oh,” I thought. “Here she comes again.” The scent of lavender in the air confirmed my suspicions. “Hey there, sugar. I just thought I’d drop by and light a spell; haven’t seen you in ages. Wha’cha been up to?” “Well, hey yourself, Grandma Jane. It has been a while. I am making out my grocery list,” I replied. “You just pop in out of nowhere, don’t you?” “Lemme see that there list you’re making. Hmm, milk, eggs, butter. Ain’t you got no chickens and cows around here anymore? And what’s this here zoo-chinee stuff? Never heard tell of it.” When I explained it was green squash, she rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief, allowing as how the regular old yellow kind was good enough for her. “Augue-la? Shee-what? I ain’t even gonna try to say that and you oughten’ not be writin’ such words down. I’m ashamed of you.” “Granny, they’re lettuce and mushrooms. We love them in our salads.” “Humph, no salad’s as good as lime Jell-O with fruit cocktail in it. I used to make it all the time,” she opined. “And what in Sam Hill is that gua-stuff? Are you trying to poison your family with all these hi-falutin’ vittles?” “Oh, no, ma’am. That’s guacamole, a dip you make with mashed up avocados and lime juice. It’s real good with corn chips for a snack.” “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. What’s wrong with pullin’ taffy and poppin’ corn when you want a snack? And your great-granddaddy was happy as a clam with a can of sardines and a box of saltines.” She shook her head again in disbelief when she saw what I didn’t have on my list. “Where’s oatmeal? You can’t get along without oatmeal two or three times a week. And I don’t see no prunes on this list. How’re y’all gonna keep regular without prunes?” With a shake of her apron, she went out to the kitchen to nose around. “You go on and do your shoppin’, honey. I’ll just make myself at home.” When I returned, lugging in my shopping bags, I found her standing at the counter in front of a conglomeration of bowls and pans and spoons. The flour and the sugar canisters were open; she had a dusting of flour on her forehead and a look of frustration on her face. “That was a quick trip. You must’a been goin’ about 20 miles an hour. I was fixin’ to make you a cake, but I can’t find your egg beater and you don’t have no lard and where in tarnation is your Happy Home Almond flavorin’?” I showed her my electric beater. “I ain’t usin’ no ‘lectric contraption. It’ll make the cake taste funny. ‘Lectricity’s poison, anyhow.” I said never mind the cake and offered her a cup of coffee and a piece of cheese Danish. When I turned on the Keurig, her mouth dropped. “That’s the craziest way to make coffee I ever seen. Is it magic?” she asked. As I popped the pastry into the microwave to warm, she turned to me and said, “Don’t you go tellin’ me that’s a cookstove oven.” “Yes’um, it heats things up in a hurry and cooks frozen stuff and does all kinds of things.” “Well, now if I ain’t seen it all. I’m gettin’ out’a here, sugar, before you kill me with all these modern doodads from the devil’s workshop.” She tied her kerchief around her head and with another swish of her starched calico skirt, disappeared through the wall. “Darn,” I thought to myself. “I sure would have liked a piece of her cake.” Lexington (N.C.) Dispatch columnist Page H. Onorato is a retired teacher. By Page H. Onorato More Content Now MailTribune.com By Page H. 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