SISTERS

Goodness what a horrible photo!

You can hardly see their faces... but these are my two eldest sisters.

The sane, not horrible ones.

Irony here... the one with the dark hair is the oldest.

The one with hair more silver than my own is second oldest in my family.

Ten and eight years my seniors.

Our father, who lives in DPH,

turns 87 on Saturday.

My sisters and their husbands stopped here to have 

breakfast with us on their way up to celebrate with Grump Pa.

Neither had been able to attend our wedding,

so this was their introduction to the man.

Cinderella, silver hair was supposed to go on an anniversary

trip paid for months prior to our invitation.

However life interjected a series of events that kept that from happening.

While I thought she was lounging on a beautiful beach...

their tree was blown down by a freak tornado

and her father-in-law died suddenly.

Our wedding day was his funeral day.

Meanwhile, Duffy, dark hair and husband Bull

were attending a reunion where no one showed up that they could recall knowing.

Isn't that how life goes?

Such was the conversation this morning as we chatted and ate.

Nothing much to talk about really.

A few funny old family stories and swapping pics of the grand kids.

But it was wonderful to see them.

I was glad to have "normal" family members to introduce to the man

vs the not so normal Grump Pa and Medusa.

The thing that stuck me immediately was how much my sisters

looked like other family women that I thought of as

elderly.

Ha!

Duffy looks like Auntie J and Cinderella looks like the grandmother

we called only "Gertrude".

It also confirmed my suspicion that Bear sounds

very much like Duffy when she speaks...

and proved to the man that both Cinderella and I snort when we laugh.

And that we both laugh a lot.

The Grump used to call us "the jolly girls".

Yeah... we didn't care for that much.

It was fun and strange and sweet

to see them all.

How much we have all changed over the years.

How different but essentially the same.

I wished that I had more time to visit,

but at the same time welcomed being home again.

A morning of contradiction.

When I hugged Cinderella...

she whispered in my ear...

"I am so glad to see you happy."

I came home and said good night to the man

and wandered out here to post.

I thought about her parting words

and the intensity with which they were said.

I guess I hadn't fooled anyone all those years

that I was not happy.

How wonderful that they can see now that I am.

One point of conversation came up...

the Duck game tonight against Cal Bears.

The man asked who they would be rooting for...

Cal Bears!

I had to laugh.

We were raised Californians

and it is where they all still live.

We'll be rooting against them of course.

=:]

Brother-in-laws paying their bills.

Sweet!

ITS OFFICIAL

Yay! Summer is here!

Time to...

do dishes, scrub toilets, vacuum...

Hey

summer was much more fun when I was a kid.

Back then my last week or two of school was filled by 

day dreams of the arrival of

trips to the beach house, camping with the family,

fishing, riding bikes, skating, skate boarding,

(the kind you make yourself out of an old skate and a board)

playing ball, kick the can games that lasted 

until waaaaay late.

NO SCHOOL

So much to do!

The first day of school vacation

my eyes would pop open  before the alarm would have normally have gone off.

Wa-hoo!

In a shake I'd be slipped into my summer uniform...

a sun suit

(puffy sack like things that have leg holes and tie at the shoulders),

lace up my Red Ball Jets

 and fly down the stairs to the dining room...

cram some  scrambled eggs with wieners cut up in them

and an over-done piece of toast

down my throat.

I might even eat half a banana or a apricot.

Oh baby!

Outside to the front porch.

After what felt like an hour or two of believing that any second 

someone would show up to play...

I'd give up and go back inside.

Well crap.

Mom would be sitting on the sofa in the living room,

watching her morning shows.

These were boring beyond belief.

Housewife shows with recipes,the newest gadgets and fashions from

Mode-O-Day!

In those days, there were no non-stop cartoon channels.

Cartoons were for Saturday mornings.

Romper Room... but that was for babies.

I'd slop into a chair like a load of wet laundry.

Sigh.

My mother did her best to ignore me and focus on her show.

Heavy sigh.

Followed by kicking the bottom of the chair with the heals of my sneakers.

I knew she hated that.

I'd have a little crooked smile.

"Turn up the TV."

Pained sigh.

No remotes back then either...

we kids were the remote.

She didn't wait until I had time to go back to the chair.

"Go outside and play... Shoo!"

My mother's summer mantra.

Outside again.

Sit on the warm concrete steps.

Wait.

My very  best friend in the whole world lived next door.

But summer was full of rules...

No swimming in the pool until after an hour after lunch.

No leaving the yard without permission.

No knocking on the neighbor's door before 10:00.

"Is it okay yet?"

No.

(Repeat twenty or so times.)

Back to the porch to watch a sow bug cross the sidewalk.

Not very interesting really, but it ate up time.

Watch Mr. B water his flower beds.

Wave.

I'd start to imagine all the things Gregory and I could do...

dig roads and tunnels for cars and trucks under the fir tree where the soil smelled damp and it was easy to dig with a spoon...

draw on the sidewalk...

play army...

put up the up tent and build make-believe fires...

"Is it time yet?"

"Go..."

Ha!

I'd knock on the door and then there he was!

Gregory was one of the skinniest, sickliest looking kids on earth.

His little legs looked like bell clappers out the bottom of his cut off jeans.

He always wore a striped tee shirt... 

it might have been the same one

every day...

(His mom wasn't exactly into "clean".)

and Red Ball Jets just like mine.

Most of the time his face was dirty and his hands down right

filthy!

He had terrible allergies and constantly wheezed, sniffed

and  wiped his nose with the heal of his hand...

then ran his palm down the leg of his shorts.

The bags under his eyes gave him a haunted look.

I thought he was perfect in every way.

He grinned.

"Hey. Watta you want to do today?"

"I dont know... watta you want to do?"

It might go on like that for awhile.

It didn't matter.

He'd come outside and we'd start to wander until

opportunity directed our path.

It was finally summer!

There were honeysuckle flowers to suck,

siblings to spy on or bother,

mud cookies to bake on the hot sidewalk.

We had things to do...

together.

Here its supposed to be a "hot" day.

All the way up to 84!

I've got in-laws coming this afternoon, so my 

first day of summer 

will be dedicated to cleaning the house

first

then working on a new flowerbed I'm putting in next to the patio.

Not very exciting.

Summer vacation just isn't the same.