I’m Azalea Stewarts, and I come from a long line of lovable weirdos.

No, I am not the woman above. That beautiful old lady is my grandmother, Naomi, the most amazing person I know. When my great-grandparents passed, she single-handedly raised her four younger siblings, along with her own son. 

She offered them the most amazing childhood, away from the tumult of San Myshuno, denying herself the right to marry the love of her life so that she could give them her undivided attention.

My mother was her youngest child. Unlike her brother and sisters, she was born after Grandma had reunited with Grandad. She had a perfect childhood, surrounded by love, two adorable dogs, and paintbrushes.

See, Grandma is also the best artist of her time. The best artist of the century! Every canvas her brushes touch is a masterpiece, every keyboard her fingers brush sings some new, incredible melody. Grandma raised us all, all three generations of us, to recognize the beauty that lies in art, in nature, in ourselves.

She also raised us to be vegetarians, and groomed us to take her place, when she dies, as the owners of the Windenburg Herbology Shop. You should see the garden she has in the back of the house. She and Mom spent their days there when I left.

Yes, I left.

The perfect life is a great life, but this was not the life for me.


When Grandma got older, her herbology shop became her hobby and her passion.

That, and yoga.