A mother becomes a true grandmother the day she stops noticing the terrible things her children do because she is so enchanted with the wonderful things her grandchildren do. – Lois Wyse
I can still smell the green of the grass crushed beneath me. Feel the damp of the dew on my elbows. Hear the birdsong. – Kristina Turner, The Self-Healing Cookbook, 2002, originally published 1987
