Nearly Official

Our Tree on 12/03/17

When I saw my younger brother's image identifying him (or his phone) as the caller I had a twinge; a twinge that he was calling to pass on some news related my older brother. (My younger brother doesn't call to 'shoot the breeze' generally speaking)

It was news, though not what I was thinking. My older brother has been on my mind much especially since Harvey and Irma. Also given that I hadn't spoken with him in months and that the last word I had related to him indicated that he was basically homeless. (Even before the hurricanes) .

The news wasn't that older brother was injured, sick, or worse. No, the news was that he (older brother) was being his usual self. Remember the lawsuit? Well, an interested third party (was finally) able to catch up with the older brother because he hadn't returned his election form. He hadn't returned it, he told the third party, because younger brother and I are heartless and we
only care about the money.
What he didn't think through is that his decision impacts more than me, more than our younger brother. There is a (half) brother and more pointedly, a step-mother (the very interested third party) who are impacted as much, if not more by his sticking his feet in cement and his head in is . . . 

Well, anyway, rumor has it step-mother was able to convince older brother to send in the f-ing form.

Younger brother and I had a bit of a giggle over his assessment of our personalities and his perception of our motivations.

But we were both clearly laughing out of frustration and anger over the entire situation.

On a lighter note, that tree in the pic is now divested of leaves. Winter is coming.

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A to Zee Then and Now

This meme was lifted from a friend who no longer blogs and posted to Middle Girl on 07/22/2011.  Let's take a look back, shall we? 

A to Zee Meme

Lifted from a friend because . . . well, just because. The original post linked to the friend's blog but I removed the link as she has shut down her page. Super sad face. 

A. Age
In just a bit over a week, I'll turn the clock on 51. Not nearly as troubled about my age as I am over the fact that in a bit over six months I will be the parent of a 30-year-old son. Thirty. When that day arrives and we're being all celebratory and what-have-you I'll likely say something like, seems like only yesterday.  HA in a week from yesterday, I'll be turning the clock on 57! And that 30-year old son is now 35. Thirty-Five.  That said, he was told recently he looks 27. :-) 

B. Bed Size
It is full. A lifetime ago I once had a queen . . .      hmm . there is a story swimming in there somewhere.     That story has yet to be written. Someday baby. 

C. Chore You Hate
No diggity, no doubt: Litter boxes. It is the very meaning of the chore. OH YEAH. 

D. Dogs
Like my friend, singular, dog. She is a Shih-Tzu/terrier mix shelter Diva dog and though not technically mine is as much to me as can be.  Now there is a poodle (and I think terrier) mix who again, is not technically mine but ... well, I love me some Cinnamon. 

E. Essential Start to Day
Well, not for nothing but I think it is essential to wake up.  This remains true! 

F. Favorite Color
Blue. No, purple. No, make that green. Oh, wait, yellow? Oh, I can't pick. I do know my least favorite . . . pink. Pink, pink, you stink. My position on pink has softened a bit. I won't wear it or decorate with it but, I don't abhor it. Much. 

G. Gold or Silver
I was once a gold girl but have since become a silver lady. And I was not talking about my hair. 

H. Height
Five feet and five and a half inches tall.  I may have grown some!  :-) 

I. Instruments Played
Took piano lessons for a time. And of course had to learn to play a recorder in grade school. In the late teen years, I bought a second (third or fourth) hand guitar and strummed out my angst.

J. Job Title
Mother, Daughter, Sister, Cousin, Friend, Manager. I am no longer a manager unless one wants to split hairs to note, "manager of my own existence" kind of thing. And as both parents are deceased I am not technically a daughter, but ... well, I'm splitting that hair. I am now, will forever be, THE ONLY DAUGHTER.  I am a medical biller. Not certified but likely will be someday. 

K. Kids
Kids? A nearly 30-year-old son and a nearly 26-year-old daughter. They couldn't be more different but I love 'em just the same. Do the math. Son is 35. Daughter will turn the clock on 32 in October. Good golly they are getting old. :-) 

L. Live
For over 28 years now in a 'burb just beyond THE city limits. I remember moving here with my wasband and baby boy like it was yesterday.  But it wasn't yesterday. It was many yesterdays ago. I didn't love the town when I moved here. We moved to give the kid a safe, stable, welcoming environment to grow, to thrive. A lot has changed, namely, I had a second child, got a divorce, and now, love this little village. Oh, and came out as a lesbian. And atheist. But, otherwise, the same.


M. Mom's Name
Her name is Florence. She doesn't have a middle name and doesn't like to be called anything but Florence. Call her "Flo" and it's ON !!!  My mom was not one for nicknames. 

N. Nickname
Well, folks still will call me Deb or Debbie. As a kid, I was called Gabby. When my son was young he wouldn't say mama (or anything like it) and in trying to say, "Deborah" he said, "Bubba" and that stuck for a bit. Gabby was my dad's nickname for me. My mom (though not one for nicknames, didn't mind "pet" names--which are different, I think...anyway, I was "Button" to her. 


O. Overnight Hospital Stays
Tonsils when I was eleven. Giving birth at 21 and then again at 25. When M was about three he had an operation and I stayed with him. When D was in 3rd grade she had an operation and I stayed with her. Some time back I had a lipoma removed. It was a 23-hour admission so still, no overnights beyond the responses in 2011. 


P. Pet Peeve
People who reply to my "thank you" with, "no problem." The appropriate response is, "you're welcome." Thank you.  Or (rather, AND) when folks make a big to-do about their birthday and then refuse to tell you how old they are.  Or (rather, AND) when folks ask you to guess their age. And then get offended when your guess is off. If you are sensitive about your age, birthdays are probably a topic you might want to steer away from. And please, may we un-spin, "no problem" it drives me further up walls than people popping their gum.  Okay, maybe not quite that bad. But, still...


Q. Quote from a movie
"That sanctuary looks like it's been hosed down with Pepto-Bismol." One year both of my very different children gifted me with the same DVD. They have since learned to consult one another and I have learned to offer each vastly different gift ideas.  These days my son isn't much for gift giving particularly for "special" dates. He'd rather not receive gifts either. He is a, "celebrate everyday" kind of guy. The gift of one's presence and kindness is gift enough. My daughter is all about gifting. Receiving and otherwise. 

R. Right or Left Handed
Well, I can be pretty even handed. I do write with my right routinely. But can also print pretty legibly with the left. I do everything else, left-handed; hold eating utensils, swing the tennis racket, throw a ball, bat a ball.  I was forced to the right hand when I started school. Oh, and for the record, I don't do much swinging of tennis rackets or swinging bats at balls. 


S. Siblings
An older brother, Wayne. He is 51 and will be 52 in September. A younger brother, Jerome. He turned 49 in February. I failed to mention here a step brother and a half-brother via my father's second marriage. I didn't then, and do not now, consider them siblings but due to this lawsuit filed on behalf of my father's estate, we are connected. My mother's sons, Wayne will be 59 in September and Jerome is the double nickel.


T. Time you wake up
Without fail, most mornings between 4 and 4:30 no matter what time I lie down. I try to hold off GETTING up until 5 if I'm going riding before work) or 5:45 otherwise. I usually get up around 7 on the weekends to get a jump on errands and chores, namely--laundry mat. Hells Bells 4 AM??!! Now I rise, pretty routinely around 5:30. On workdays, I head out around 7:20. I try to sleep in a bit on non-work days but am usually up and at 'em by 7 or so. 

U. Underwear
Why yes, yes I do. Mostly cotton. Mostly H@nes. But, there is an exception or two in the bunch.  This is still mostly the case. Though I am to undergarments with a spandex-y kind of feel, action. 


V. Vegetable I dislike
In no particular order: Beets. Okra. Black-eyed peas. All equally disgustingly distasteful. Here again, softening a bit. Coming closer to adding beets to a smoothie. No discussion on black-eyed peas or okra. Nope, not budging. 


W. What makes me run late
Forgetting stuff. Phone. Not grabbing garbage on way out. Leaving my commuter cup full of the beverage of my choice on the kitchen counter and having to double back to get it. Ugh. The only difference here, I no longer take a commuter cup for my commutes. I don't eat or drink (anymore) on the buses or trains. It is against the rules and while folks don't get called on it very often, they should. Operators usually only come down on those folks consuming alcoholic beverages and/or are clearly inebriated. 

X. Xrays I've had done
Dental. Chest. Knees. check. check. check. 


Y. Yummy Food I Make
Mac N Cheese. Fried Chicken. I remember when I was . . . oh, eleven or twelve, I prepared dinner for the family. It was the first time. Among the menu items was fried chicken. I had to cut up a whole fryer, prep and then fry. I finally got it in some semblance of recognizable pieces and once fried, isaid pieces looked gorgeous. Hi-ever most were pretty raw on the inside. My mom laughed which gave my brothers license to ridicule me.  I don't cook much anymore but I learned (eventually) to prepare quite a few dishes reasonably well. 

Z. Zoo Animal
Big Cats and Bears. I prefer the larger zoos where the animals are displayed in habitats more closely resembling their natural habitat. I don' particularly like seeing the animals in cages, living part of my youth in a housing project I could relate. But, I remember field trips to a zoo, seeing things I'd never seen. Touching animals I'd never touched. I remember my little boy watching these guys for hours over the years and building an affection for their flights of fancy and for the area of the world from which they hail. My daughter isn't much for zoos (or animals other than dogs (especially D-dog) and cats.) That is of course unless she can be pulled in a wagon and food and souvenirs are on the docket. My son has mentioned walking through Chicago's free zoo on first or second dates. He thinks it a wonderful place to stroll, talk, getting to know someone. He and one young lady were strolling and talking so long they nearly got locked inside. I don't think my daughter has been to a zoo since she was a kid. 

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