2 May 2016
2012 – Ongoing
My family gathers at my Grandma June’s small house at least one Sunday every month in Ohio. Whenever you feel like getting there, food will be ready to serve yourself. Cake from the Kroger bakery. Fresh pineapple slices skewered with maraschino cherries. Some kind of Jello-and-marshmallow fruit casserole. A bucket of KFC. Day-old, re-heated pizza. The food isn’t important or special but is always the centerpiece. In the background: blue grass music on the accordion by my uncle. In the air: the smell and sound of a nearby lawn being mowed.