I grew up in Memphis and my grandparents lived just north of there in a little country town called Trenton. Speed limit 31, 1 of each church- Baptist, Methodist and Presbyterian. And of course the necessities of a small town, McDonald's and Sonic.
My grandfather was well, a smart ass and the local doctor that help found the local hospital and delivered most of the babies in town. 
My grandmother, "My" is 87 and a firecracker, very dry, matter of fact and can hold her own. My cousin got confused as to what to call "My". She would call her "My Mom" after hearing her mom call her that. My aunt would say "No, It's My Mom." Eventually, it got shortened to just "My"
Just a couple of years ago she surprised us all at Christmas with a video of her parachuting out of a plane accompanied by Van Halen's "Jump".
She was telling us she got pulled over once, coming over the hill into town. She told the cop if she went 30 miles an hour (as was the speed limit at that time). She'd never make it over the hill. She said it be like when we drove Model T's. We'd have to get out and push our cars over the hill.
The mayor got word of this and I'm sure others complained and the limit was changed to a speedy 31. Ryan says we should just get out and walk. It would be faster.
"My" lives out in the country. Her driveway lined with pine trees and wooden animal cutouts greeting us at Christmas.
We walked behind the house with the dogs around the neighbor's pond. They immediately caught site of the duck decoy. Hank our "pointer/hunting" dog, who is afraid of water, was barking and pointing like crazy.
Woody our airhead lab, who is afraid of water, would dip a toe and hop out and then get distracted by grass or wind. It doesn't take much.
Of my grandmother's many quarks, she is crazy about celery, grapes, cheese and fritos scoops. She also hoards bottle cokes so, it's always a treat to get to sit out on the back porch and sip on a cold one. It was a peaceful end to our time with family.
