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. . . GRACE see: "CHARM" see: "FORGIVENESS" see: "GOODNESS" see: "PLEASING OTHERS" see: "REFINED" see: "THANKSGIVING" see: "CIVILITY" for other related links see: "FOOD & DRINK" for other related links Grace is the outcome of inward harmony. --Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach (18301916) Austrian writer. "Krambambuli" (short story) in _Castle Village Stories_ [1883]. Beauty loses its relish; the graces never. --Henry Home, Lord Kames (16961782) Scottish lawyer, agriculturalist, and philosopher. _Introduction to the Art of Thinking_ [1789] Grace is beauty in action. --Joseph Joubert (17541824) French philosopher. _Recueil des pensιes de M. Joubert_ ("Collected Thoughts of Mr. Joubert") [1838] That word "grace" in an ungracious mouth is but profane. --William Shakespeare (15641616) English dramatist. _King Richard II_, II, iii [1595] - Beauty, devoid of grace, is a mere hook without the bait. --Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Pιrigord (17541838) French statesman. Quoted in _Revelations of the Life of Prince Talleyrand_ (M. Colmache ed.) [2nd edition, 1850]. & see: Beauty without grace is the hook without the bait. --Ralph Waldo Emerson (18031882) American philosopher and poet. _The Conduct of Life_ [1860], "Beauty" - An inborn grace that nothing lacked Of culture or appliance, The warmth of genial courtesy, The calm of self-reliance. --John Greenleaf Whittier (18071892) American poet. "Among the Hills" st. 23 - Good bread, good meat. Good God. Let's eat. ----- affable [AF-uh-buhl], adjective: 1. Easy to speak to; receiving others kindly and conversing with them in a free and friendly manner. 2. Gracious; benign.  ;void(0)) GRAMMAR . . see: "LANGUAGE" for related links 'Whom are you?' he asked, for he had attended business college. --George Ade (18661944) American playwright and humorist. "Chicago Record" [16 March 1898] - I lately lost a preposition; It hid, I thought, beneath my chair And angrily I cried, "Perdition! Up from out of under there." Correctness is my vade mecum, And straggling phrases I abhor, And yet I wondered, "What should he come Up from out of under for?" --Morris Bishop (18931973) American linguist and writer of light verse. In "New Yorker" [27 September 1947]. - I am about to or I am going to die; either expression is used. --Dominique Bouhours (16321702) Pre-eminent French Jesuit grammarian who worked endlessly to promote a high standard of correctness and purity in the French language. Attributed last words, quoted in "Saturday Review" [1955]. If we neglect these studies [of grammar], our language will become corrupted and barbarous, and ... our manners will become rude, our morals vitiated, and we shall sink into a savage state. --Jason Chamberlain Professor of the Learned Languages, in Inaugural Address at the University of Vermont, [1 August 1811]. Colourless green ideas sleep furiously. (Illustrating that grammatical structure is independent of meaning.) [ODTQ] --Noam Chomsky (b. 1928) American linguistics scholar. _Syntactic Structures_ [1957] - The English-speaking world may be divided into: (1) those who neither know nor care what a split infinitive is; (2) those who do not know, but care very much; (3) those who know and condemn; (4) those who know and distinguish. Those who neither know nor care are the vast majority, and are a happy folk, to be envied by most of the minority classes. --Henry W. Fowler (18581933) English schoolmaster and lexicographer. _Modern English Usage_ [1926] THAT, relative pronoun . . . The two kinds of relative clause, to one of which *that* and to the other of which *which* is appropriate, are the defining and the nondefining (retrictive and nonrestrictive); and if writers would agree to regard *that* as the defining relative pronoun, and *which* as the nondefining, there would be much gain both in lucidity and in ease. Some there are who follow this principle now,but it would be idle to pretend that it is the practice either of the most or of the best writers. --Henry W. Fowler (18581933) English schoolmaster and lexicographer. _Modern English Usage_ [1926] - A priggish civil servant had corrected and returned a Churchill memorandum, pointing out that the prime minister had mistakenly ended a sentence with a proposition. Back it went to the officious bureaucrat, with this Churchill note appended in the margin: "This is the sort of pedantic nonsense up with which I shall not put." --James C. Humes, Professor of language and leadership and author, quoting Winston Churchill, in _The Wit and Wisdom of Winston Churchill_ [1994]. The fine dream is fading away fast, and the least concerns of a teacher in the present day is to inculcate grammar rules. --Charles Lamb (17751834) English essayist. _Essays of Elia_ [1823] "Old and New Schoolmaster" The subjunctive mood is in its death throes, and the best thing to do is to put it out of it's misery as soon as possible. --W. Somerset Maugham (18741965) English novelist, playwright, and short-story writer. _A Writer's Notebook_ [1949] entry written in 1941. The greater part of this world's troubles are due to questions of grammar. --Michel Eyquem de Montaigne (15331592) French moralist and essayist. _Essays_, bk. II, ch. 12 I never made a mistake in grammar but one in my life and as soon as I done it I seen it. --Carl Sandburg (18781967) American poet. _The People, Yes_ [1936] I am the King of Rome, and above grammar. --Sigismund (13681437) Holy Roman Emperor 14331437. At the Council of Constance [1414] to a prelate who objected to his grammar. Save the gerund and screw the whale. --Tom Stoppard [Tomas Straussler] (b 1937) Czech-born British playwright. _The Real Thing_ [1988 rev. ed.] As far as I'm concerned, "whom" is a word that was invented to make everyone sound like a butler. --Calvin Trillin (b. 1935) American journalist, humorist, and novelist. In "The Nation" (weekly magazine). Going unexpectedly into the parlor of their house one day, Mrs. Webster discoved her husband embracing their maid. 'Noah, I am surprised!' she exclaimed. Webster released the maid and reassumed his professional dignity. 'No, my dear,' he corrected his wife, ' it is *I* who am surprised; you are merely astonished.' --_Bartlett's Book of Anecdotes_ edited by Clifton Fadiman and Andrι Bernard [2000 ed.] (Noah Webster (1758-1843) American lexicographer) Once when the Yankee's Lou Pinella was batting he questioned a Steve Palermo strike call. Pinella demanded, 'Where was that pitch at?' Palermo told him that a man wearing Yankee pinstripes in front of 30,000 people should not end a sentence with a preposition. So Pinella, no dummy, said, 'OK, where was that pitch at, asshole?' --attributed to George F. Will (b. 1941) American columnist. - So what do you want good grammar or good taste? --(Tarryton Cigarette commercial slogan [circa 1960]) There was a young woman whose stammer Was atrocious, and so was her grammar; But they were not improved When her husband was moved To knock out her teeth with a hammer. --anon. ----- solecism (noun): 1. A violation of rules or conventions; a mistake, a blunder. 2. A blunder in speaking or writing; esp. a mistake of grammar. tmesis [TMEE-sis], noun: In grammar and rhetoric, the separation of the parts of a compound word, now generally done for humorous effect; for example, "what place soever" instead of "whatsoever place," or "abso-bloody-lutely." ;void(0)) GRAND CANYON . . see: "NATURE" for related links see: "PLACES" for related links I remember coming across him [George Barnard Shaw] at the Grand Canyon and finding him peevish and refusing to admire it or even look at it properly. He was jealous of it. --J.B. [John Boynton] Priestley (18941984) English novelist, playwright and critic. _Thoughts in the Wilderness_ [1957] - A tour group is visiting the Grand Canyon, and the tour guide asks if anyone knows the age of the canyon. Everybody is mumbling but nobody answers. An actuary raises his hand and says, "one million and three years old!" The guide is amazed and asks the actuary how he knows this so exactly. The actuary answers, "Three years ago I visited the Grand Canyon, and one of your guides said the canyon was one million years old." - . . see: "HOME & FAMILY" for related links - kap shares four "grandkid stories" with USENET: Andrew, the 5-year-old, came over earlier and we worked on my 500-piece Ft. Mackinac, Michigan puzzle. For some reason, I started singing Chim Chim Cher-Ee and he said, "That's silly." "No, it's a real song!" He smiled, thinking I was telling stories again. "I'll prove it, I have it on one of these tapes." As my tapes are eclectic, the one I selected first played a couple of Disney tunes, 'A Whole New World' and 'Beauty and the Beast.' Those he recognized from the movies. We continued working on the puzzle finding the light greens and dark browns, "Look for a black piece with a smidge of grey." We were quite a team. Disney songs finished, the tape took an unexpected turn to classical music. Out of the corner of my eye I watched to see if he would continue singing and/or humming along. The first was a piece by Bach, bouncy and light; I could tell he enjoyed it as much as Disney. The second, also Bach, was slower, subdued, "Why is it so sad, Grampa?" Ah, he *is* paying attention. And so it went, the ones he liked, Corelli and Vivaldi's "Spring" from "The Four Seasons," and the one he thought was trying to scare us, the Grand March from "Aida." For an hour and a half we were just two guys doing a puzzle and listening to some good music. Then we went outside and had a catch and tried to balance a broom on our hands. Grandkids think you can fly. They think you can slay any dragon. Why shouldn't they think that, we can boss their parents around and we know so much. Someday he'll discover I'm nothing special, just someone who loved him. Maybe these words to my friends will give him some smiles somewhere down the road. What always bothers me when I write about my grandkids is the realization that so many in the group don't have any yet. Soon, let's hope, soon. They are an absolute and total joy, not to spoil and then return to their parents, rather, I think, to provide us with a second chance to do things right. kap - Remember this if nothing else. If you're going to hike, never go downhill first. Last Saturday we took the grandkids for our weekly walk at Red Rock Canyon. We were near the White Rock Mountains and the trailhead sign promised a possible view of Big Horn sheep. If you were a Big Horn sheep would you live in 120-degree summer heat? Or would you walk over to Montana where it's cooler? Surprise, there were no sheep but we did find a tree with pretty blue berries. A blueberry tree, I gather. We started out downhill and continued downhill for almost two miles. Occasionally, hikers from the oppposite direction passed by and offered a "Good Morning!" Three of them had dogs. One dog carried a backpack. His owner said, "He has to carry his own water." I wondered about that, his backpack was pretty big and I suspect he was carrying the day's provisions for the owner. A few minutes later two joggers, a woman and man, passed us, running, uphill! In five minutes in the great outdoors we have encountered a new tree, cruelty to animals, and two demented folks. But no sheep. Which is good news for the water-carrying dog because it last rained here in 1855 and the parched sheep would have stomped the dog and stolen his water. We found an old stream bed. It was dry. The grandkids went off in search of rocks and came back with a handful of beauties. As we already have hundreds at home and as we still had to walk uphill, I made them leave their treasure behind. Too bad Rocky wasn't here, he could carry our rocks, water, beef sticks, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cheese, grapes, and M&M's. After sampling some of our treats we headed onward, finally going uphill and then, back down as we reached the end of the trail. We sat on a big rock, drank some water, and wondered how to get back? We're in the parking lot of a different trailhead, 3 1/2 miles from our car. We wondered if we should go back the same way, mostly uphill, or take the road. We found a crew cleaning up the area and asked how far by road? "Six miles." We'll take the path. It was just then that Margaret saw her first desert mirage! "Look, it's the joggers, but they are coming from a different direction!" I couldn't believe it. It was them indeed. After running a minimum of eight miles (eighty? eight hundred?) they rested for about two minutes and then asked *us,* about two new (for them) paths, "Which path is better from here?" Ah, a chance to show I am a true outdoorsman! "Well, the path on the right circles around and returns back here in about 1 1/2 miles. The path on the left leaves you off 4 miles from here in the middle of nowhere." The two madpeople naturally took the left and ran off toward California. Margaret waited until they were out of earshot and gave her appraisal, "I *hate* them." We headed back along the path which brought us here. We saw an opportunity to save a few hundred feet by heading off into the desert and re-catching the circling path. No danger here, it was wide open and Margaret reassured the kids by telling them how Grandpa had bushwhacked through the Adirondack Forest. She embellished a bit, although it is true I once went ten feet off the trail and behind a tree to, well, you know. Taking care not to step on nature (cactuses, brambles, and holes in the ground - homes for ???, something terrible, no doubt) we made it back to the path and all were greatly impressed. Margaret told the kids not to worry about the holes because whatever lived in there would be scared away by our singing. And so we sang for the ten minutes it took to re-find the trail. Presently, we returned to our dry riverbed. Out of our two knapsacks came all the food and water and we regaled the kids with warnings about what to do in case of flash flood. We made it sound like there was no problem but the actuality is we would all end up in Lake Mead, 50 miles away - after saying our last goodbyes to Las Vegas as we floated past the Imperial Palace. Andrew saved two hikers from certain death because they, after seeing where we were resting on the rocks, assumed the path would continue down the dry riverbed. Margaret and I watched them march off and it appeared they knew what they were doing, but Andrew, being a kid and not knowing you're not supposed to interfere, yelled, "Hey, you're going the wrong way!" Smiles and thanks as they retraced their steps and continued on their way. Amateurs. Imagine, losing the trail. We couldn't see the car from where we sat but we knew it was just about .... over there, "See, over that second hill somewhere near that huge cactus?" "Yes, if we cut across we save at least a mile." We left the path and went straight toward the car. Not exactly straight because cactus and brambles blocked us every 15 feet or so. Therefore, every 15 feet of progress was offset by 10 feet of detour. I'm not sure our shortcut was shorter. Animal holes started appearing with alarming frequency. The more holes, the louder we sang. We sang every song in the kids repertoire. "A, b, c, d, e, f........Old MacDonald had a farm......The Itzy Bitzy spider.......Somewhere Over the Rainbow.....Row Row Row Your Boat...... Then we sang them again, and again. Andrew was worried, "Why did you do this to us, Grandma?" he asked in all seriousness. Often we couldn't even detour because the brambles were too thick. I'd have to reach back and pick up both kids and lift them over. Daniel is only 35 pounds and a feather but Andrew is a moose - 60 pounds. My calves hurt for two full days after that trip. We spotted three large cacti. "I think the car is near the top of that hill right by those cacti," I joyfully predicted. When it wasn't, Andrew asked again, "Why did you do this to us, Grandma?" He then added in the most sorrowful tone, "We're going to spend the rest of our lives out here." Margaret consoled Andrew, (Daniel doesn't yet have a clue.) We sang some more and eventually ended up very close to where the trail would have left us. You should know that the boneheaded strategy of bushwhacking the desert was simply a desire to teach the kids respect for nature. Yes, it was a learning experience. Just like that time in the Poconos when we stopped on an ice covered hill and persuaded my daughter to ride her round platter, remember them? down toward *the car.* "Don't worry, I'll catch you on the way down and Mommy is standing right in front of the car." She sits on the platter and down she comes, at about 125 miles per hour. The best I could do was slow her down...Margaret caught her, with her head no more than 6 inches from the bumper of the car. No exaggeration. My daughter gained a healthy respect for ice that day and she never pulled such a stupid stunt again. Hopefully the grandkids will be like their mother and learn. We can only hope they don't take after the grandparents. - The past three Saturday's we have taken the grandkids out to Red Rock Canyon to climb some of the trails. Last Saturday we did a 7-mile hike through Ice Box Canyon. We freeze our water the night before and then pack it in our knapsack, along with cheese crackers, Slim Jim's, grapes and sandwiches. Andrew, the 5-year-old, likes to carry the knapsack which is fine by me, but I did notice a disapproving glance from a few people who probably thought Andrew was our pack mule. Andrew and Daniel both like to be the leader. As they have learned, it is a great responsibility. One must follow the correct trail, watch out for loose rocks, be wary of bandits, Cyclops, snakes and other wildlife, and any other dangers. When the leader fails to announce a danger, or gets us hopelessly lost, he is replaced. Anyone, usually I, can call for a rest. Andrew doesn't like to waste words so he just says, "Rest!" I'm verbose, "Please stop, I'm about to die!" We were the first car in the parking lot for our trail so we had it to ourselves. We'd stop every few hundred yards and admire our progress. This is best done by mounting a large rock and, with a stance probably made famous by John C. Fremont, (right foot forward, left hand on left hip, right arm raised, index finger on right hand pointing at the car and saying, "Westward Ho!") Please practice that at home before you attempt it on the mountain or you might look like a fool. Also, if the rock you have just found is large you may dance on it. It has been dance-tested by a hefty Keith, and family. Daniel always falls down at least once and in the beginning we were worried. "Does it hurt?" "Has it swollen?" "Are you bleeding?" By now, the fall-down is anticlimactic, so we advise, "It's nothing, get up!" Sometime between the first fall and the first point-and-dance, we stop for our first snack. As she is at home, Margaret is in charge of the food. Therefore, we must eat in an orderly manner. Water bottles are marked - Andrew, Daniel, gramma, grampa and you *will* drink only from your bottle and, further, if you run out of water you will crawl, parched and dehydrated, back to the car. Unless a snake gets you first. So, you had better conserve your water! Okay, we understand that, can we have some grapes and crackers? "No, water and *one* snack per rest stop." Grumble, eat, reload knapsack, proceed. After half an hour we run into a group being led by a BLM (Bureau of Land Management) ranger. It's interesting to note that most of the land in Nevada is owned by the federal government and thus, I would think, by the citizens. We pay a $5 fee every time we visit *our* land. I was going to complain to the ranger about the unfairness of this practice but I was so busy just trying to breathe that by the time I could, he was gone. Margaret, who smokes much less than I, didn't waste her words on the ranger because she saw a co-worker in the group. Actually the co-worker saw Margaret first and proceeded to come over and give her a big hug. Odd, considering they are, at best, casual acquaintances. The woods do funny things to people. Those who would normally spit on each other in the city are new-best-friends in the woods. I guess it's a 'let's bond together against the dreadful outdoors' sort of reaction. On we went, over a, for the duration of the hike, rock path. Daniel stayed on his feet but I slipped once and almost turned an ankle. A young married couple caught up to us and Andrew, in a moment of inelegance, proceeded to ask the fellow what was in *his* knapsack, and upon learning there was food asked if he could have some. The fellow fielded the question with good humor, more so than mine and when the couple was out of hearing, Andrew and I had a talk. Lesson learned and stomachs fed, we reloaded the knapsack and moved forth. By this time we had discoved how Icebox Canyon was so named. Three-thousand-foot cliffs surrounded us both in front and on the two sides. Wind blew in there and couldn't escape and therefore got cold. That's the New York City explanation I gave the kids, and, they bought it! Interesting cliffs, are these. On our right, massive rocks seemingly held up by what looked like old Roman columns; in front, a grey wall, unspectacular except for a cave two hundred feet up. Has anyone ever set foot in that cave? Probably, because on the left cliff, seven hundred feet in the air, a lone rock climber made seemingly sluggish progress up the sheer face. We watched in awe for a good ten minutes. I told Andrew and Daniel they were both professional climbers and a few minutes later we encountered two fellows on their way down. One of whom, appraising our young grandkids, said, "Way to go fellows!" "I'm a confessional climber," Daniel answered. They're both the bee's knees. - Wanna hear what we did with the grandkids yesterday? First we went to the library for a Halloween party; the kids took one look and went off to gather some books. I had to remind Daniel, the three-year old, that the aisles in a library are *not* to be used for hide and go seek, no matter how well positioned they are. (Yes, it *was* tempting, but I am an adult, you know.) We checked out our cache of books. Off to the Sportspark thanks to a friend who had given me a gift certificate. What a neat place, batting cages, miniature golf, rock climbing, basketball, giant game room, and three tracks of mini Grand Prix racing cars! The little guy was too short to drive his own car so he coupled with Margaret. As you might expect, it was a young crowd. In her race of twenty cars, Margaret must have had 35 years on the oldest teenager. But I had faith, I knew she could beat these young whippersnappers. As they approached the start, the 12-year-old behind Margaret gave her a good bump - obviously a ploy to shake up the old foggie. Undeterred, Margaret kept steely eyes on the checkered flag and as the starting gun was fired (in my mind, anyway) she burst off the line (ever see the great Ruffian or the sprinter Michael Johnson? Remember Superman circling the globe or the young Keith at a bar picking up chicks? Awesome speed.) Andrew, and the rest of the coke swilling, pot-bellied crowd (an older, rumpled, ruined Keith) cheered Gramma but even with our exhortations she quickly faded and once, even spun out. Sigh. It was every bit as bad as the defeat of the Persians, of the South, of the Germans, of Newcastle, of the Atlanta Braves. Margaret finished 19th. For her own disgraceful performance, Margaret blamed Daniel. Supposedly, she didn't want to get into the fray. Whatever, it was time for Andrew's race. Andrew and a young lass of five had the track all to themselves! Andrew was apprehensive, "Gramma, I don't think I know how to drive a racing car." "Don't worry, just drive it the same way you drive your electric car at home." "Okay." It was a slaughter. He lapped her three times without ever touching her car or the bumpers on the side of the track. He was perfection in motion, reminding the crowd of the Greeks, the North, the Allies, Manchester, and, of course, the New York Yankees. My cheers of "man power, man power" weren't much appreciated but it was a tolerant crowd. Time for the victory lunch. Franks, fries and cokes outside (70 degrees with not a cloud in the sky.) We situated ourselves near the batting cages and right next to a giant sandbox. The racing champions, Andrew and Daniel, quickly returned to their youth as they jumped into the sand. They had played a few minutes when two teenagers with baggy pants entered the sandbox. Margaret and I gave each other a look that said, "Oh boy, teenagers about to start trouble!" The teens filled a bucket with sand, packed it as tightly as possible, leveled it off at the top, turned it over, and voila, a perfect sand castle. Trouble, indeed. Which reminds me, out of hundreds of kids and young adults we didn't hear one offensive word, didn't see one fight or disagreement. Maybe when kids have something to do.... And then we were off to chores, bank, Wal-Mart, pick up pills for the rumpled me. Dinner, lots of laughter, some classic cartoons and then off to bed. Vvrooom, vvrooom ..... a *car* engine, what kind of story did you think this was! kap - Never have children, only grandchildren. --Gore Vidal (b. 1925) American writer. Quoting his grandfather in _Two Sisters: A Memoir in the Form of a Novel_ [1970]. . . see: "HOME & FAMILY" for related links - Opening lines of "Mosquito Bay" from the book _How I Got This Way_ [1994] by Patrick F. McManus (b. 1933) American humorist. My four daughters stopped by the other day, trailed by a riotous band of my grandchildren. I make a practice to count the kids when they arrive for a visit and again when they leave, just to make sure none has been left bahind. It's a simple precaution one learns after a few years of grandparenthood. When one starts to settle down in the evening with one's newspaper, one likes to avoid the shock of finding a stray grandkid hiding under it. "Hi Grampa!" the kids chorused, coming in and throwing their coats on the floor. "Hi, guys," I said, doing my impression of a jolly old elf. "Ho ho ho! I was hoping you would come over, because we can play a game." "Oh, wow! What is it?" "It's called 'Don't Touch Any of Grampa's Stuff.' Doesn't that sound like fun? Here's how it's played. The first guy I catch touching Grampa's stuff is Out. Now, what does 'Out' mean? Your cousin Bernard could explain that better than I, although--" "But Grampa, we don't have a cousin Bernard!" "Not anymore. You see, I walked into my den, and there was Bernard swatting flies with my split-bamboo fly rod. ... - Every generation revolts against its fathers and makes friends with its grandfathers. --Lewis Mumford (18951990) American architectural critic, urban planner, and historian. _The Brown Decades_ [1931] How confusing the beams from memory's lamp are; One day a bachelor, the next a grampa. What is the secret of the trick? How did I get old so quick? --Ogden Nash (19021971) American writer of humorous poetry. "Preface to the Past" in _You Can't Get There from Here_ [1957]. I wish to ask you how you find yourself, on being a grandfather . . . The prospect is worse than the reality. --Marie de Rabutin-Chantal, Marquise de Sιvignι (16261696) French writer whose letters constitute one of the most celebrated collections of epistolary writing. Letter to President de Moulceau [27 January 1687]. . . see: "HOME & FAMILY" for related links If your baby is 'beautiful and perfect, never cries or fusses, sleeps on schedule and burps on demand, an angel all the time'you're the grandma. --Theresa Bloomingdale (19302000) American humorist and author. _Murphy Must Have Been a Mother!_ [1982] It was an old, old, old, old lady, And a boy who was half-past three; And the way they played together Was beautiful to see. --Henry Cuyler Bunner (18551896) American poet, novelist, and editor. "One, Two, Three" in _Rowen: 'Second Crop' Songs_ [1892] My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She's ninety-three today and we don't know where the hell she is. --Ellen DeGeneres (b. 1958) American TV and film actress. Quoted in Gloria Kaufman (ed.) _In Stitches: A Patchwork of Feminist Humor and Satire_ [1991]. To reform a man, you must begin with his grandmother. --Victor Hugo (18021885) French poet, dramatist, and novelist. Quoted in "The Ohio Educational Monthly" [September 1882]. My grandmother has a bumper sticker on her car that says, 'Sexy Senior Citizen.' You don't want to think of your grandmother that way, do you? Out entering wet shawl contests. Makes you wonder where she got that dollar she gave you for your birthday. --Sean Morey Quoted on Snopes.com. My grandmother was a very tough woman, she buried three husbands and two of them were just napping. --Rita Rudner (b. 1955) American stand-up comedian. Quoted in Des MacHale _Wit_ [2003]. If becoming a grandmother was only a matter of choice, I should advise every one of you straightway to become one. There is no fun for old people like it! --Hannah Whithall Smith (18321911) American Evangelist and author. Quoted in Logan Pearsall Smith _Philadelphia Quaker, The Letters of Hannah Whitall Smith_ [1949]. ^^ In 1978 Sussex police launched a hunt for a 'six-foot, dark-haired youth of about 20 who failed to mug a five-foot, 74-year-old grandmother. The youth sprang upon Mrs Ethel West while she was walking through Chichester Cathedral cloisters. The result should have been a foregone conclusion. Surprisingly, however, when Mrs West grabbed the mugger's wrist, he cried, 'Oh God! Oh no! Stop!' Encouraged by these pleas, she put him in an arm lock at which the mugger cried, "Oh no! Oh Christ!" and ran away. 'If I hadn't been carrying my shopping, I would really have put him on his back,' said Mrs West who took a course in judo when younger. 'Before my husband died I used to practise throwing him at Christmas,' she explained. _The Folio Book of Humorous Anecdotes_ Introduced by Edward Leeson [2005], "Age Mostly Old" ^^ My Grandmother is over eighty and still doesn't need glasses. Drinks right out of the bottle. --Henny Youngman (19061998) English-born American stand-up comedian. Quoted in Robert Byrne _1911 Best Things Anybody Ever Said_ [1988]. ;void(0)) GRANDPARENTS . . see: "HOME & FAMILY" for related links The best baby-sitters, of course, are the baby's grandparents. You feel completely comfortable entrusting your baby to them for long periods, which is why most grandparents flee to Florida. --Dave Barry (b. 1947) American humorist. Quoted in "Reader's Digest" [1985]. Over the river and through the wood, To grandfather's house we go; The horse knows the way To carry the sleigh, Through the white and drifted snow. --Lydia Marie Child (18021880) Amercan abolitionist and suffragist. _Flowers for Children_ [18441846], st. I "Thanksgiving Day" My Grandparents were from Bohemia. They were in the Iron and Steel Business. My Grandma would iron and my Grandpa would steal. --Don E. alt.books.louis-lamour Usenet newsgroup. What children need most are the essentials that grandparents provide in abundance. They give unconditional love, kindness, patience, humor, comfort, lessons in life. And, most importantly, cookies. --attributed to Rudy Giuliani (b. 1944) Mayor of New York City [19942001]. - The simplest toy, one which even the youngest child can operate, is called a grandparent. --Sam Levenson (19111980) American humorist. _You Don't Have to be in Who's Who to Know What's What_ [1979] The reason grandparents and grandchildren get along so well is that they have a common enemy. --attributed to Sam Levenson (19111980) American humorist. - When I was a child, my grandmother died and was buried in the churchyard in Castlecomer, Ireland. The following year I went there on holiday. One day we drove to visit relatives, I in the back seat with my grandfather. As we pass the graveled driveway leading up to the churchyard, my grandfather, thinking he was unobserved, pressed his face against the window of the car and with a small, hidden motion of his hand, waved. It was then I came to my first understanding of the majesty and vulnerability of love. --Herbert O'Driscoll Canadian Anglican Priest and author. _A Doorway in Time_ [1985] - ^ A grandfather, always made a special effort with his grandchildren. Many Sunday mornings he would take his 7-year old granddaughter out for a drive in the car for some bonding time. One particular Sunday however, he had a bad cold and he really didn't feel like being up at all. Luckily, grandma came to the rescue and said that she would take the grandchild out. When they returned, the little girl anxiously ran upstairs to see Pop Pop. 'Well,' the grandfather asked, 'did you enjoy your ride with Nana? ' 'Oh yes, Pop Pop' the girl replied, 'and do you know what? We didn't see a single dumb bastard or lousy shit head!' ^ - What kids say about grandparents in _How to Grandparent_ by Fitzhugh Dodson, M.D., and Paula Reuben [Harper & Row, 1981] A grandma is old on the outside and young on the inside. --John Wright, age 7 ½ A grandmother corrects your grammar and wipes imaginary dirt from your cheeks. --Sara Spurrier, age 12 Grandmothers always come up with advice, which is given whether you need it or not. --Rita Bourke (age not given) Grandparents do the same things as parents, only they're nicer. --Shelley Eastman, age 11 A granddad is a person you never forget, never. I'm proud he's my granddad. And I'll never forget his hand in mine as we walk down the street together. --Suzanne Cairns, age 13 Every time I went to her apartment, I got twenty or twenty-five cents. As I liked my grandmother, I went over to her apartment about five times a week. --Andrew Austin, age 10 She's the person who tells me all the things about my parents they would rather not have me know. --Sarah Scott, age 15 I think my granddad is fantastic most granddads are. If you are saving up for something they are like walking piggy banks and give you money. --Jeremy Shilling (age not given) Grannies are very necessary for letting you do things you are not allowed to do generally, like watching "The Late Night Horror Show." --Kate Clancy, age 14 You can tell them secrets of all the bad things you have done and they won't tell our mothers. Then they tell you about all the wicked things they did when they were little. --Helen Smith (age not given) - In _Grandchildren Say the Darndest Things_ compiled by Stuart Hample and Eric Marshall, "McCall's" [May 1998] Grandpa goes out into the garden every morning before anybody else is up and he looks around with that look he has and just dares a weed to come up. He's going to teach me that look. --Raphael, age 10 When they live far away and send presents you have to write back thank you but that's very hard if you don't like what they send. --Zack, age 10 - The good news is that grandchildren keep you young; the bad news is that after you spend time with them you feel your age. --anon. ;void(0)) GRASS (IS GREENER) . . see: "CHANGE" see: "COMPLAINING" see: "PLANS" Such fire was not by water to be drown'd, Nor he his nature changed by changing ground. --Ludovico Ariosto (14741533) Italian poet. _Orlando furioso_ [1516] The grass is always greener on the other side. --"Chicago Daily Tribune" [28 August 1923] Your diamonds are not in far distant mountains or in yonder seas; they are in your own backyard, if you but dig for them. --Russell H. Conwell (18431925) American lawyer, author, clergyman, and educator. Attributed in _Serving the World: The People and Ideas of America's State and Land-Grant Universities_ [1987]. Then the idiot who praises, with enthusiastic tone, All centuries but this, and every country but his own. --W. S. Gilbert (18361911) English writer of comic and satirical verse. _The Mikado; or, The Town of Titipu_ [1885] The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance; The wise grows it under his feet. --James Oppenheim (18821932) American poet and novelist. "The Wise" in _War and Laughter_ [1916]. Happiness is where we find it, but very rarely where we seek it. --Jean-Antoine Petit-Senn (17921870) French-Swiss lyric poet. Quoted in Julia B. Hoitt _Excellent Quotations For Home and School_, p. 150 [1890]. Keep what you have got; the known evil is best. --Titus Maccius Plautus (254184 BC) Roman comic dramatist. _Trinummus_, I, 2, l. 25 There's a snake hidden in the grass. --Virgil (7019 B.C.) Roman poet. _Eclogues_, no. 3, l. 93 Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower. --William Wordsworth (17701850) English poet. "Ode: Imitations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood", l. 177 [1807] -- A famous astrologer was entranced by the baby in the pram. "Beautiful," she said. "absolutely beautiful. Do you happen to know what sign she was conceived under?" "Yes," blushed the young mum. "It said 'keep off the grass'." -- end page | GAMBLING - GARDENS | GARFIELD - GENERATION GAP | GENEROSITY - GENTLEMEN | GEOGRAPHY - GERSHWIN | GHOSTS - GLASSES | GLOBALIZATION - GOALS | GOD | GOLF | GOOD DEEDS - GOODBYES | GOODNESS - GOVERNMENT | GRACE - GRASS | GRATITUDE | GRAVEYARDS - GREED | GREETINGS - GROWING | GROWING OLDER - PAGE 1 (A-L) | GROWING OLDER - PAGE 2 (M-Z) | GROWING UP - GULLIBLE | GUN CONTROL & GUNS | | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | | Return Home | The Credits | The Cast | Act 1 | Act 2 | Act 3 | The Reviews | |
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