When I went in to Starbucks yesterday, this Mills' Brothers hit was playing. Shine little glow worm, glimmer, glimmer transported me back to age 5, when my grandmother used to sing this as she accompanied herself on the piano. I would beg her to play it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8myK93FqbYc
As I think back to this time, when Ginger (a marmalade-colored cat) lolled in a patch of sun near the piano while Helen played, when the chief of the Fire Department lived across the street in a house with a red door and red shutters, I also loved these:
I used to call them "one two threes" because my grandmother taught me to count by enumerating them as she gave them to me. I don't think they said "fat free" on the label way back then.
My grandmother taught me many valuable life lessons, mostly by example, but the things I remember during the "glow worm days" were simple. She baked chicken in a paper bag. I always marveled that the bag didn't go on fire. She ironed on a board that folded into the wall, which I would give anything to have now. She had a red love seat that wasn't balanced well and if the person on the inside got up suddenly, the person on the outside would fall off. I found this hilarious. We watched Elvis movies or Miss America accompanied by the clicking of her kniting needles.
