It is funny the things that can spark a memory. I made meatloaf tonight. I think I have made meatloaf maybe four times in my adult life, but every time I make it I think of my grandma. I spent a lot of time with my grandma when I was little and one of the memories I have of her house is making meatloaf. She would put everything in and then she would let me mix everything together by mushing it all up with my hands. The feeling of the cold hamburger and slimy eggs sticking to my fingers and even the shloopy goopy sound it makes reminds me of my grandma and her harvest gold kitchen.
