There are so many reasons I love going to Grandma's house. Growing up, every holiday and every birthday was spent around the kitchen table with family. One long handmade bench stretched along one side to hold as many bodies as possible to share in blowing out candles, playing marbles or stealing black olives. The old turkey platter hung on the wall proudly watching over these happy times. In the winter the adults would crowd around the woodstove to chat on the back porch as the fire crackled and foil covered dishes fragrantly bubbled on top. As an adult I try to memorize these warm cozy moments of unconditional love and acceptance and hold tight to them so they may live forever.