My grandparents weren’t church goers but had me say grace before every main meal of the day (which in our house was at lunchtime). A few lines to recite, short and simple; I loved the tingle of anticipation.
If only they were still around I’d surprise them with what I found a minute ago, in a book first published 1947.
Bless the meat, Damn the skin. Open your mouth And cram it in.
None of today’s diet nonsense. Had they lived longer they’d be turning in their graves at calorie counting; they knew how to starve, during and post war (twice); and had the grace to count their blessings afterwards.
I could cry; which, since Saturday is my day off my self-prescribed blogging identity, I now will in memory of two people who made my early life a happy one.