Visits to see my sister were always pleasant. My fathers parents were always fun to be around. My grandfather was serious and stern, quiet and always in the vegetable garden. I would watch him deftly move the water currents with his large hoe as he watered his huge garden. He would place his garden hose in one spot and water his whole garden.
My grandmother would be in the kitchen, a large pot of water with some Indian corn boiling for me. This was my treat. She would be speaking Spanish to me and rolling  tortillas, flipping the tortillas in her palms and flower dusting the bread board as she rolled them round.
My sister and my cousin Margaret Ann would play with me during my visits. Margaret Ann was my aunt Edith's daughter, they lived in this home. My aunt was an author, painter and disk jockey. She search and researched our families history. She wrote a book about my grandfather. I have been trying to find a copy of what she wrote, but no one seems to want to help me out.
Our grandparents had a player piano in their dinning room. My sister and I would sit on the floor, peddle and listen to Scott Joplin rags. We learned how to place the piano rolls in the piano. This was always a real thrill for us.
I looked up Scott Joplin and found some very nice information about him, I loved what I learned about him and his style of music. His piano rolls put him on the map.  Some of his  rags were composed for a tuba, piano, clarinet, oboe, trumpet, trombone, violin and viola and many more instruments. I heard a Boston rag band playing his music recently, superb.
While I was living in Pasadena, our music came from the radio, an RCA Victrola and an square, rounded corner T.V.  John Phillip Sousa marches, Mexican National marches and Spanish guitar (Malagueña) came out of the crank RCA Victrola at my mothers home. The T.V. gave us the bull fights from Mexico. I would stand tall and proud, my body arched in defiance, daring the bull, my mental/slender grace overcoming all.