Windmill Cookies
Happy thoughts of my childhood today.
Going to grandma’s house, laughing and playing. Snacking on chips, candy, cookies … pretty much whatever my brother and I wanted (afterall, we were at Grandma and Pa’s house).
And eating Windmill Cookies!
Geez, I cannot remember the last time I ate one.
While working with a family today, I was offered a Windmill cookie (that project story to follow later this week).
It was amazing. All I could think about was my Grandma and how much fun I had with her. The games we would play, stories she shared, the cookies she baked and all the time spent at her and Pa’s home.
Eating that windmill cookie today brought back so many wonderful memories. I find it very interesting how a cookie can trigger such feelings.
My grandma passed away 5 years ago on Christmas evening. Perhaps with the holiday approaching, I am remembering her. I just find it quite interesting to eat that windmill cookie today.
I am thankful my boys have a very close relationship with my mom. I wonder what they will remember about their grandma when they are 38 years old.
What memory do you have about your grandma?
December 4th, 2007 at 10:43 pm
The only grandma, of the two, that I met was not the sweetest. She did, however, make GREAT Tapioca pudding. Still a favorite of mine today.
December 5th, 2007 at 11:28 am
I was lucky enough to have all four of my grandparents for a very long time. The last one to die, when I was 41, was my favorite. We called her Mamie. As a child, there was nothing better than spending time at Mamie and Papa’s. There are so many great memories, one of the best is going shopping on the main street of Rockland, Me. The Woolworth’s store with the wood floor was the best. Mamie and I would sit at the counter and have ice cream sodas while Papa waited for us napping in the car.
After Papa died I would drive from Ct. to Me. every chance I could get to spend a long weekend with her. I would bring a bottle of Kahlua, Mamie would have vodka and half and half, and we would drink white russians. When Mike made the trip with me, Mamie and I would take our “Russians” in the car when we went for a ride. Mamie and I would sit in the back seat while Mike drove. We pretended we were women of means and he was our driver, Malcom.
In 1990, I moved to Italy for two years. The last time I saw Mamie I said, “You know, if you die while I’m over there, I may not be able to get back.” She said, “Good, I don’t want you to see me dead, I want you to remember me alive and laughing.” I got the call about a year later – Mamie had died. I cried for a while, then went into the kitchen and made a “Russian”, sat on the couch, held it up and said, “Here’s to you, Mamie!” I think she was sitting there with me, drinking her own.
Thanks for the memories!
December 5th, 2007 at 11:30 am
I was lucky enough to have all four of my grandparents for a very long time. The last one to die, when I was 41, was my favorite. We called her Mamie. As a child, there was nothing better than spending time at Mamie and Papa’s. There are so many great memories, one of the best is going shopping on the main street of Rockland, Me. The Woolworth’s store with the wood floor was the best. Mamie and I would sit at the counter and have ice cream sodas while Papa waited for us napping in the car.
After Papa died I would drive from Ct. to Me. every chance I could get to spend a long weekend with her. I would bring a bottle of Kahlua, Mamie would have vodka and half and half, and we would drink white russians. When Mike made the trip with me, Mamie and I would take our “Russians” in the car when we went for a ride. Mamie and I would sit in the back seat while Mike drove. We pretended we were women of means and he was our driver, Malcom.
In 1990, I moved to Italy for two years. The last time I saw Mamie I said, “You know, if you die while I’m over there, I may not be able to get back.” She said, “Good, I don’t want you to see me dead, I want you to remember me alive and laughing.” I got the call about a year later – Mamie had died. I cried for a while, then went into the kitchen and made a “Russian”, sat on the couch, held it up and said, “Here’s to you, Mamie!” I think she was sitting there with me, drinking her own.
Thanks for the memories!
December 5th, 2007 at 9:44 pm
My father’s mother, Hannie Dickinson, is my soulmate! She was ahead of her time. If she were alive today I am absolutely sure she would be the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. She had a strong belief that she owned the whole road and drove as often of the left as she did on the right! While you have windmill cookies, Angie, (and I also remember those) I remember that my grandmother always made lima beans when we kids visited. I loved them then and still do now!