By LINDA KOEHLER
Grammy wore an apron, gray hair neatly permed.
When I sat on her lap,
I never squirmed.
She made the best, softest sugar cookies,
Days spent with her were treasured goodies.
Pappy taught me how to pick a fishworm,
I watched him tie flies with knots so firm.
If his baseball team lost, oh what a fuss!
It was through him I learned how to cuss.
Mammy's apron wiped many a scratch and tear,
She rocked me and tickled me, kept me near.
No request I made was too large or small,