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This entry was posted on Monday, April 22nd, 2019 at 8:13 am and is filed under circus of life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
Monday chuckles
bluebird of bitterness
The opinions expressed are those of the author. You go get your own opinions.
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Home sweet home
Bob's sister Hannah
Bob's sister Ada
Bob's brother Otto
Bob's sister Eve
Bob's sister Nan
A baby picture of Bob and his siblings (clockwise from upper left: Otto, Eve, Hannah, Ada, Bob, and Nan)
Bob's childhood home
Bob's mom and dad
Bob in his youth
Bob's cousin Alphonse
Bob's Uncle Ralph and Aunt Edna
Bob's cousin Archibald
Bob's stepbrother Herbie (who really needs to quit smoking)
Bob's cousin Chester
Bob's Great Uncle Norbert and Great Aunt Phyllis
Bob's cousin Saffron (who will do anything for a drink)
Bob's cousin Thorndike
Bob's brother-in-law Vinnie
Bob's cousin Orville, who loves the Green Bay Packers
Bob's nieces Lulu and Bitsy, the biker chicks
Bob's stepsister Eloise, with the twins, Rudy and Trudy
Bob's Uncle Henry and Aunt Rowena
Bob's niece Esmerelda (who likes to live dangerously)
Bob's Great Uncle Arthur up in Saskatchewan
Bob's cousin Louie, the grackle of grumpiness
Miss Screech, Bob's journalism teacher
Bob's nephew Winthrop, who loves sports
Bob's Uncle Seymour and Aunt Bernice
Bob's second cousin Schlomo in Brooklyn
Bob's nephew Baxter
Bob's cousin Darrell
Nigel, Bob's pen pal in New Zealand
Bob's sister-in-law Delphine, who volunteers at the animal shelter
Percy the Pickpocket, Bob's third cousin once removed (the relative no one likes to talk about... every family has one)
The Bluebird of Happiness™ (no relation to Bob)
A pair of boobies (also no relation to Bob, but included for readers who desire titillation)
A pair of tits (in case the boobies were insufficiently titillating)
Bluebird Bitter™, the beer they named for Bob
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OMG that toddler putting rubber gloves on her feet! LOLOL! 😀
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That made me chuckle, too. And the one about the Juneflower fits. My ancestors actually arrived on the second ship after the Mayflower. 😀
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I liked that one, too.
You have quite a story. Good thing you’re writing that book!
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Thanks. Writing my memoir is the hardest thing I have ever done. But it’s very enlightening.
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I bet. Funny how much stuff comes back to you once you start to poke around in your head.
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I know what you mean. But in my case, it isn’t so much that things are coming back, as it is that I’m seeing the context of things.
Events, many of which had seemed isolated and inexplicable to me, are taking on a different meaning as I write them out in the order that I remember them happening. Seeing how the chain of events worked, how one thing led to another, is eye opening.
Also, as I write, I’ve been doing a bit of online research about the major news events of the times I grew up in. And I can see how certain national and world events may have tied in. For example, my father really believed the world was going to end during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Which could explain some of his actions and decisions at that time. It’s interesting, to say the least!
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How interesting. I imagine that’s way more intense. I do journal heavily most days and find myself remembering all kinds of things from decades ago, but I tend to go back and forth rather than in any kind of a timeline. I’m gonna keep your approach in mind.
What a cool idea, looking at the then-current news. It’s kinda terrifying how vastly so many things have changed in such a short time.
Context can be so significant.
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I think mine might have arrived on the Octoberflower, having missed all the previous boats. I drive my husband crazy, just as my mother drove my father crazy, with my lack of punctuality. I maintain that it’s because I was born two weeks late and I still haven’t gotten caught up.
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Makes sense to me. 😉
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That picture cracks me up every time I look at it. 🙂
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So funny! I love the Juneflower one; I’m late for almost everything even though I try hard not to be.
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Join the club.
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I’ve never been late for anything in my life. I was due to be born on the 17th April I wont bother with the year, and the cord was cut and I was on my own at 4 minutes past midnight on the 17th April.
It;s a curse believe me!
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I was due some time in July, but when August rolled around and I still hadn’t shown any inclination to be born, the authorities lost patience, and labor was induced. Heaven only knows how much later I would have been if they’d waited around for me to make up my mind. And I’ve been late for almost everything ever since.
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Did it occur to anyone that your mother may have got her dates mixed up?
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My mother, God rest her soul, always maintained that she knew EXACTLY when I was conceived, but of course I’ve always just taken her word for it. And I was a small baby, at least by her standards, despite being (supposedly) two weeks overdue, which certainly raises suspicions.
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What she did was recall the day that they joined together for some hankey pankey, which is fine if it’s right on the DAY, then you have to count back 14 days to the beginning of the cycle and work the nine months from THAT date Not the date of the deed.
Many people get caught that way , Starting from D-Day instead of the last menstrual cycle starting day
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And given that I was baby #4, she ought to have figured it out by then!
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Probably past caring after having 3 already, and probably gave up and left you the baby of the family
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Hilarious. I especially liked the marshmallow bunny. 😀 — Suzanne
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That one cracked me up. 🙂
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cant stop laughing over the crushed bunny. oh, the likeness! 👍😉
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