The Celebration of Life for Sue was held at The Water Tower Inn yesterday – I think Sue would’ve loved it. Hundreds of people laughed and cried together for a few hours; I think we all needed for this to happen.
Harry Stewart, a close friend of Aub and Sue live-streamed it all and I’ve embedded the video below for anyone interested in experiencing it. The actual ceremony starts around 20-30 minutes into the video, and it will tug at your heart strings right after you fall off your chair laughing, over and over again.
Holidays are Over
Taken February 3, 2015 with Samsung Galaxy S3
Greeting card for sale at Les Becker Designs
I’m not sure I even know where to begin…
I was asleep when the ball dropped – woke up when the kids all called for rides home at the same time. It took me three trips, and I drive a mini-van. That’s a lot of drunken 20-somethings…
That old saw about “how you ring in the New Year is an indicator of how your year will go” is flat-out bullshit, if my January has anything to say about it, by the way. I’d have thought January would be a calm and steady same-old, same-old kind of routine month.
Taken September 30, 2010
with PalmPre Camera Phone
Karen and I took a drive tonight out to Gros Cap, to watch the water, sit and visit, and relax a little….
Truthfully, it was only relaxing once I parked the van and turned off the engine.
My sister is not the best passenger. It’s not that she tries to tell me how to drive or anything, but…
Oddly, she only screamed when I was turning right. I don’t know why this is, and it took forever before I realized that it only happened when I was making a right-hand turn.
The first time, I nearly jumped right out of my skin, and screamed back.
“What the hell?!”
“What…?” says she, calm as a cucumber, now that we’re travelling straight forward (sort of – it’s a curvy road, after all – but at least she isn’t screaming now).
“What was that scream all about?”
She looked at me very calmly when she replied, “I thought we were going to tip over.”
It took several more turns to realized she only screamed when I turned right, and another several turns to come up with a possible reason why that was.
“Do you have an ear infection?” I asked her.
“Why would you ask that?” Karen countered.
So, I told her – which was a huge mistake. I told her I thought maybe her equilibrium was off, since she only screamed when I made a right-hand turn, and took the left turns without batting an eye.
Why was this such a mistake? Well, I’ll tell you why.
The very next left-hand turn I made, Karen shrieked and clung to the dashboard with clawed fingers. I swear, there are claw marks in the dash. Deep ones.
After we’d been back home for awhile, I suggested a visit to the nearest Tim Horton’s for a treat.
“Is it close enough to walk?”
My Brother-the-Trespasser will be driving her to the bus for her trip home.
Maude on her Hog
Photo copyright either My Brother the Trespasser or My Sister Tootie
(Maude can’t remember who was standing behind the camera…)
I drove down to Teeny-Tiny Town today, having had no sleep since… well, I’m not certain when, but I’ve been writing – really writing – for real writing, so No Sleep Disease isn’t exactly a bad thing. This time.
On the way down, I saw a small plane tipped over on the four-lane median strip, surrounded by a single fire truck and a couple of cop cars. I thought I might be hallucinating at first, but then remembered that if that was the case, my imagination would have turned it into an airliner. I ought maybe check the news to be certain (I assume a plane landing on the highway might be considered news around here, anyway), but I think it’s safe to say I actually saw what I think I saw.
Yup. It’s good to know I’m not completely nuts. Ahem…*
When I got to Teeny-Tiny Town, though, and saw that photo of my mother in leathers on a motorcycle… well…. that was something I was pretty certain was all in my own mind.
Until she started to laugh, and told me the story…
Seems My Brother the Trespasser (or maybe it was a nephew – I’ve had no sleep, and my mom can’t remember…) bought himself a new ride this past spring, and went down to show it off to my mom and my sister, who were both suitably impressed. Mom was so impressed, in fact, that she told one of the aides in the Nursing Home that it was her hog.
I don’t know why, but the aide didn’t believe her!
Mom said she would prove it, and got the Trespasser/Nephew/Whoever to fit her up, put her on the bike to pose, and then had [somebody] get a couple of copies of this pic printed up. The aide displays her copy on her fridge at home. I stole the other copy, to show you all how cool my mom is…
Look real close now… she’s not pointing at you. She’s giving you the finger (yeah, yeah, she’s flipping the bird backwards – give the ol’ lady a break – she’s 85).
We had a visit to the graveyard (my dad’s monument is finally in place – his boat, sailing off into the sunset lasered into it somehow – he would have been right impressed, I think – and it’s an odd kind of comfort to see that boat on there, sailing away…), and went out for lunch before I sneaked off back home, pilfered photo safely tucked away.
On the way back, I saw an upside down tractor-trailer in the ditch, which my brain turned into a crash-landed Borg ship for a minute. The lack of armed militia tipped me back into the real world soon enough, but not before a whole ‘nother story clicked into place, waiting for me to start writing when the current project is put to bed.
Which is where I’ll be going… once I’ve pecked out a few more scenes.
Random Song-for-the-Day: “Graceland” – Paul Simon
The 1998 Version of My Aunt Blanche…
No, really, let’s compare, shall we? If only to piss off my daughter – who tells me she’ll kill me if I post this, but then laughs out loud when she looks at this photo of herself, so I think I’m all good…
Tell me that’s not eerie…
Yes, kids, it’s time for another Aunt Blanche story…
Aunt Blanche – 192?
Aunt Blanche was my mother’s older sister. She was the first born – and she wasn’t very old before my grandmother realized she was a little, well, different. I suppose the proper, “politically correct” term to describe Blanche would be mentally challenged. She never went to school, never held a job, and never married.
I have a photo of Ky, when she was about 4, that looks just like Blanche. Ky hates that picture, which is why I’m going to dig it up someday and post it, ‘cuz I think it’s cute that she looks like a modern-day version of my Aunt Blanche, and I’m the Mom, and she can’t stop me.