So I got an email from one of my favorite cuzzies, Shaila, asking me for pictures of the kids, the addy for my old blog, and would I please, please think about blogging again? I have been thinking about it. Not because I miss the political commentary, at least not often, but because now we have a gaping hole where two years of family history should be. I really enjoy reading some of those old posts from time to time; I have another daughter off at college who would like to stay connected; so I'm going to give it a shot. This will also give Veritas something to do in her free time...such as correcting the grammar in the above sentence and also this one. Who says I'm not giving?
Plus, I've finally got this whole working thing sorted out and I do have a bit of limited time available to add to the family story. Yeah, it's been almost 2 years. I'm a slow adapter, okay?
Now to catch up:
Still married to MrG, 25 years in April. We were out to dinner on our anniversary and having a "lively discussion" about one of the kiddies. As the waiter came by to deliver our food, MrG remarked to him, "Just wait until you can celebrate your 25th anniversary by dressing up and going out to argue about the kids for a change!"
But seriously, we've had a lot of fun this year and here is one of my favorite pics of the year:
This was taken at a local, biggest striper contest. MrG runs it every year and this year I came in 3rd or 4th or 5th. It ain't first and second is in the ladies room, so I forget. Third loser, 4th loser...who cares? However, MrG presented me with my copious winnings (yes, just the one bill) and we had a great day.
MrG and I fished the Texas Striper Tournaments this year. They held a tournament on our hometown lake this summer and all the kiddies were our crew, except Veritas, who had to work. I surprised MrG with matching fishing shirts for our entire team with his boat name, also our team name, on the shirts. For those having trouble reading it, it says Shallow Blonde and yes, he certainly did mean exactly what you're thinking. My shirt says First Mate, but on further reflection I should have just gone all in and had them put First Blonde.
Here is a picture of the whole crew:
L-R: #1 Son Viagra, my lovely daughter-in-law, Veronica, #2 Son Willard, #3 Daughter Vision, me, MrG, and #1 daughter Valentine. (as in the past, I will stick to their made up names). Yes, I know I hate to shop, but looking at this photo it becomes obvious that although the red exercise shorts technically match the ensemble, I'm lurching heavily into Richard Simmons territory in this picture. And Willard is eerily following in my careless footsteps with his blue and red basketball shorts. The fact that I allowed us both out of the house looking like this is troubling. I really need to fix this before Vision signs me up for What NOT to Wear. Yes she's threatened. More than once. Just last week, in fact.
Val, 25, is working here in town as an investigator for a state agency. We won't be talking about it except to say now that it is an ugly, ugly job and she's very good at what she does. Being very good at it doesn't help her deal with what she sees everyday, though, and I'm her mother. I worry! Also, it makes me want to kill evil people and disappear their bodies, which would make me good at it until I got caught.
Viagra and Veronica also live here in town. They are also doing well. They bought a lovely home this past year and it has a large, fenced backyard where my 3 year old grandbaby, the pumpkin, can run and play. It also has 3 bedrooms and since one is currently empty, they've made plans to fill it up next year with a new addition to the family.
What update would be complete without a pumpkin story? This Thursday I had the stomach flu and when Veronica and the pumpkin came by I was in bed. Like sane people, as soon as they realized I was sick they hustled right back out the door. Viagra came over Friday to see how Willard's basketball game went, but apparently the pumpkin cautioned him as he left home:
"You can't go to Granny's house, Daddy. An old woman at Granny's house has the stomach virus. And that old lady is your mom. Granny."
Halloween: My Mom, the pumpkin (who now calls herself the baby kitty cat and speaks of herself in the 3rd person like Bob Dole) dressed like a kitty, and me.
Yes, I do note the alarming tendency of all pictures of me being unfortunate, sans makeup, and generally hideous. I don't know how this trend started, but after this post I plan to put a stop to it immediately. Also, my Mom looks 20 years younger than her actual age. Seriously. If you look at this picture you might assume we are sisters and she's the pretty one. My Mom rocks!
Veritas, 19, is at Texas A&M. She finished her first year at the local community college and transferred this fall. So far she's doing very well in school and working almost full time as a waitress as well. Here is a graduation photo representative of her shy, unassuming, quiet, yet dignified personality:
Vision, 16, is a sophomore in high school. I call her my little cheer geek. She's a cheerleader in computer web-mastering classes. She fits in better with the computer nerds than she does with the cheerleaders, but she's very good at both. And she's 6 and 1/2 inches taller than her mother at this writing. She's also the pumpkin's favorite person in our family, aside from Mommy and Daddy of course.
Willard, 15, is...still Willard. He's just as goofy as he was when I last blogged but he's now 6'1" worth of goof. He sustained a concussion at his next to last football game last month. MrG noticed that he was hit pretty darn hard, a slobberknocker as my cousin Mel calls it, but Willard hopped up and ran back to the sideline. MrG thought he was fine. Apparently, he stood on the sidelines saying retarded and insane things for quite some time before the QB finally realized that although Willard is the biggest goof in the world, he wasn't this nuts, and alerted the trainer. Willard introduced himself twice to the man in 15 minutes. MrG said even the coaches were so used to Willard goofing around that they really couldn't tell any meaningful difference between the concussed Willard and the normal Willard. Only family and trained medical personnel could know for sure, which they did. Willard remembers nothing of the evening after the first minutes of the 1st quarter. Here is a shot of the guys at the game he has no recollection of:
And yet. He looks so normal for a dazed, concussed, not even close to being there dude.
So, how y'all?
