As I mentioned yesterday, I spent the weekend helping Grandma Thyrza celebrate her 90th birthday.
No small feat. Living 90 years that is.
Grandma Thyrza has been a part of my life since I was seven, give or take. She married Grampie after both their first spouses passed away. And she has been my grandmother ever since.
She watched up when we were sick, makes the best apple butter, hands down, and has cheered us on every step of the way.
This weekend I got the chance to here about her childhood. Her family were settlers in Saskatchewan. Her father tamed wild horses, they were born in a sod hut, crazy stuff really.
And I never knew.
It was fun to hear more about her and catch up with some family I hadn't seen in ages.
But it was not the place to meet a man...not that I was planning on it. I was one of three people under the age of 50 at the party (and I was related to the other two). And Sunday at church wasn't much different.
All in all it was a good weekend. And Grandma Thyrza was celebrated.