When I was in high school, classmates and friends come over my grandma’s house all the time. If we needed a place to practice a play at, it would be my grandma’s house right away. When we needed a place to hang out or do a project at or for whatever reason we could think of, my grandma’s place was always the designated official place. The patio furniture was witness to our teenage angst and all that. Whenever my friends come over, those that remained close to me through the years, we would laugh about the silliness of our youth and would still hang out at my grandma’s place.