I was a blessed Meanie Ma last week.
For four days, I got to play with dolls, feed chickens and cows and sing silly songs with my three black-eyed granddaughters.
Oh, I listened to the scanner some and checked email from work after they were asleep but mostly, I got to be a grandma.
So when my daughter Amanda called me Friday to ask if I heard the awful news – I hadn’t.
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