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Grandma Turner continued
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By
Chris Turner
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July 4th holiday @ Clementines, Grandma with her beer, Seamus and Tiffani nearby.
Tiffani dropped us off at a pancake breakfast fundraiser at the Grand Ledge Masonic Temple, then we had plans to visit the public library and mosey home. The breakfast was good, but very sparsely attended: a mother and son, half a dozen firefighters , and us. (Local political intrigue: the former mayor , and the current mayor , were both present. Bitterness?) We made our way to the library via the new path underneath the bridge, but the kids had to regale me with all the stories of already having performed all these stunts, walked these paths with Bompa and Grandma. Some books and movies chosen, a re-introduction to the library cat statute, a ride on the library porpoise, and a pleasant walk home in the sunshiney, chilly morning.
Stacy, a Grand Ledge graduate, explaining the labeling machine that was acquired from Budweiser. Cruising through the Twitter this winter , I note that Aradia -- a semi-local brewpub, and of which mom and dad are founding members -- is having what they term a 'beer dinner' on April 28, which also happens to be dad's 70th birthday. Thinking that it's a natural occasion and destination to celebrate dad, the Turner boys scheme to get him there. When we arrived (albeit, a little late, due to unforeseen Michigan Avenue construction in Battle Creek), we were provided with a brief tour of Arcadia's production facility, and given a menu agenda for the evening. Chef Sean described the evening's meal as turning food inside out, changing our perception of what we typically perceive, encounter, and eat. Tables were set up separate from the restaurant, again on the production side, where they were white-linen clad, and supplied with plates of Swiss...
As everyone knows, we had to put our beloved 13 year old Gretta down late in August. Ahni said that we'd know when the time was right and truer words were never spoken. It was a very difficult evening full of emotion and crying in our house. I kept hoping that my old friend Doug was there for her, his arms wide open, waiting to take her for a walk that night. It helped to sooth my aching brain. When you don't have kids your dog becomes more than simply a pet. Gretta was my dog initially but gravitated to Jenny halfway through her life. Due to my heavy workload Jenny had a buddy she could spend lots of time with and they formed a wonderful bond over time. It never ceased to amaze me, these last few years, how that dog only cared about Jenny and I was just some other human in the house. While it's been difficult for both us it's been doubly traumatic for Jenny to lose her pal. At the end of the day, she was still my hunting buddy though, always eager for a mouth full...
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