This week the Sunday Scribblings is on writing. What do you think of when you think of writing?
Me? I think of my dad and my grandmother.
I think of all those years in school when I was a terrible writer (read: I do not care about school, why are you making me go?) Not only did I have tough teachers at school, I had a tough teacher at home, my ninja grammarian-former-english-and-latin- teaching father.
I can't recall the number of reports that I gave to my dad to proof only to have them completely re-written in red ink. Even to this day, my father is my #1 choice for grammar questions. He proofs nearly all my work (except for this website-ha ha) Now, instead of red ink, he can use word's red font. Things have not changed all that much.
Daddy came by his grammar snobbery honestly. He got it from the second-most wonderful woman to have ever walked on this planet, his mother (of course, mine being the most wonderful).
We called her Bama. She had the sharpest wit and could reduce you to tears of laughter from any one of her many hilarious life stories. But, Bama could shame anyone on grammar. She was the absolute authority. Just to be sure we knew what we were saying, she used to give us pop-quizzes. Phone conversations would begin like this, "Binky, tell me why you use the word 'lie' instead of 'lay' when you are going to lie down?" Uh, Bama, I was just calling to ask you to my choral recital but since you asked....
I am thankful to them both for making me love writing as much as I do now. They made me and still make me want to be a better writer.
So, the pop-quizzes live on in my house. My poor husband and children. Additionally, I find myself using many of her sayings. "Hey Mom! I'm done with dinner!" "Done with dinner? What are you, a turkey? Honey, it's finished."
Somewhere far away, I'm sure that she's smiling.