My grandmother was different. It was always a battle with my mother, but I never really knew what it meant until many years later. My grandmother was transmasculine in a time when it wasn’t allowed. Rather than the traditional grandmother, everything that my grandmother did was touched with grit and masculinity, gardening included. She never wore women’s clothing. I remember going out into the field behind our home in the countryside, her in men’s overalls with a sweaty red bandanna perpetually hanging from the pocket, and her picking corn and handing it to me raw to eat right there, which was a new experience. She also grew things that were considered more of an exotic in my area that I grew up in, such as okra. She even grew loofah. She was a birdwatcher, and involved with Audubon Society, and grew sunflowers for the birds too.