May 25, 2012
My Grandma Ruby was one of a kind. A tough cookie from Nebraska; she spoke her mind and worked hard. She and Grandpa had a farm in Aurora, Oregon and that is where I learned to pick cherries and dig for potatoes. It's also where my sister's and I learned how to hunt for new kittens between the hay bales in the loft of the barn and play hide and seek in the wheat fields and to laugh so hard I... well that's another story. My sister's, Ann and Bonnie, and I feel so lucky to have those wonderful memories. Our Grandma Ruby lived to 95 years old and was sharp as a tack. Her dad lived to 100 - I'm hoping I inherited those genes!
Ann and Bonnie and I went to a nursery down in Salem, Oregon the other day. Ann spotted this sweet little maple tree; unlike any we had ever seen. The leaves were green with a touch of red and the little helicopters were red. Ann had to have this beautiful little tree. As we were loading it into her car I said I thought she should name it. I NEVER name things, but this little tree just had a wonderful personality and really needed the gift of a name. I suggested she call it Ruby after our Grandma and because of the ruby colored helicopters. Perfect!
Later that evening, Ann called to tell me she found a tag buried in the soil with the name of the tree on it. She said, "You are not going to believe this". I thought maybe she was going to say the tree was actually called Ruby, but no, it was even better than that. The name of this species of Japanese maples is....Grandma's Ghost. I know Grandma was smiling down on us.