My Italian Grandmother

A special event at the store meant that I worked yesterday afternoon. I haven't worked Tuesdays all summer. It meant that I could make it to the Tuesday afternoon knitting group, but it also meant that I missed seeing Theresa.

Theresa is my boss' mother in law. She is well into her eighties and spends just a couple hours a week at the store but in so very many ways, she is pivotal to making the store the warm and charming place it is.

Theresa knits like a master, and you have to see what she is working on now. Its a very simple seed stitch shawl, but it is stunning because every so often she is putting in rows with a strand of fine mohair running though it. It is the simplest and loveliest most breathtaking thing. When its ready for display, everyone is going to want the pattern.

Theresa does all sorts of little things,detail things, things that you don't notice till they are not done. We all know when she is away for a week or two. There are little things not getting done, that make the difference between a well oiled machine and something that works but squeaks. There is more.

She takes care of us in that warm and special way only a grandmother has. You see, Theresa bakes us cookies.

She doesn't just bake us cookies, she bakes us traditional Italian cookies. Once in a while she bakes us real home made biscotti. You know how the store bought biscotti is dry, a bit crumbly and sweet? Well a true home made biscotti is baked well through but isn't dry at all, doesn't crumble, and is sweet just so. It is food for the gods and the hardest thing to do is to have only one, when you really want to sit down and savour two or three with you afternoon tea, and the heck with the customers. I know I am not the only one who feels that way.

Then there is the very thin little cookie. I think it is dipped and fried only for a moment before it is pulled out and dropped off the cookie form. Light as air, just a hint of almond flavour and the smallest hint of honey sweetness. The airiest cookie in the world.

She brings in honey cake that is just warm and wonderful with morning coffee. She makes peanut butter and honey cookies. I could go on, but I'm getting hungry.

None of these treats have calories. Theresa says so and I, for one, believe it.

It was so good to see her yesterday. It was so nice to chat as we worked getting yarns ready for the store floor. She is charming and kind and the warmest soul on earth. My German heritage and prairie girl roots are a long way from the sunny Italian shore of her birth, but in every possible way, Theresa is my Italian grandmother.