Last weekend, my grandmother celebrated her 90th birthday. We sent her a pop-up card. My mother and dad were able to go back to Milwaukee for the fun.

My grandmother and grandfather spent a good part of their retirement crafting and selling their little creations at shows in shopping malls. I have quite a few things they made. My grandfather did a lot of small woodwork. I have a spice rack and most of the wooden toys he made, although they have seen a lot of wear and tear, especially a pull toy that Sam drug around the back patio as toddler in California until it fell apart.

A lesser toy, made of plastic, would have never withstood what Grandpa made.

This is unlike my father, who excels at creating furniture — I have seven or eight pieces that he built or rehabbed for us — he had enough of the small work crafting crowns and bridges and filling people’s teeth, I think. But I digress.

My grandmother made hundreds of counted cross-stitch pieces. I have some Christmas ornaments, and this little hanging piece that has always hung with on the key rack with the house and car keys.

“Home is where you hang your heart.”

That’s my grandmother. Only recently, did I start really looking at what else grandma hangs on the key rack besides her heart.

Dang, grandma, you’ve got a set of boxing gloves, a set of shoulder pads, and a pair of nunchucks hanging there.

No wonder you’re living so long.

Happy Birthday, Grandma!