Berry St.

This is my Grandmothers egg collection.

As a wee little one, i remember kneeling by this table like it was a holy shrine.
these somethings were 'never to be touched'
with that in mind, my four year old self would stiffen to control every bobbled move
near this island of fragile.
only my gaze would be adoringly upon them.

When visiting my grandma in her '62 cookie cutter house, the memories flood in and
I'm instantly reverted to my childhood ways....
rolling around on the floor, playing 'server' with the brass coasters,
and admiring the old family photos.

My grandmother is a powerhouse. A beautiful soul.
I hope to gain even half the strength and wit she embodies.