6 posts tagged “brothers”
I've been laying low off of Vox this week, or at least low for me, because I need to really get at work stuff. May is pretty much shot because of the Eastern Europe trip with MomH and - I may have jury duty next week. Yay! Not. I have to call in on Tuesday to see if I need to report. Why couldn't I get called in the summer when I don't have as much work going on?
Anyway, just to make sure this isn't a super lame post, here's an H Family Story for you. This will give you a little insight on what a normal conversation is like in my family. And maybe raise the quality to a simply lame post from super lame.
As reported earlier, but briefly, Brother Ray had eye surgery and the post surgery recovery didn't go all that well, what with passing out and seizures and not being able to see and such. But he's fine now so we can tell these stories.
A week before the surgery, MomH and I were talking on the phone for our Sunday call.
MomH: "Ray is going in for eye surgery this week."
Me: "Is he doing LASIK?" (Which Brother Steve and I both had done. We H's are blind as bats.)
MomH: "No, he's doing some new thing that's supposed to be better and cheaper."
Me: "Cheaper!?!?! He's not going to some discount place is he?"
MomH: "He's going to U of M." (University of Michigan Eye Clinic)
Me: "Oh, then he should be in good hands."
MomH: "Well - it is a teaching hospital."
Me: "Oooh... Yikes. Hopefully he won't have first year students working on him."
So then we went on and made student doc jokes for a while. Then a week after the surgery, I called to check in on him. Let me clarify - I called Mom. My brothers and I don't pick up the phone and call each other. It's just not what we do.
Me: "How's Raymond?" (I never call him Ray. And I pronounce it "Raymin", really fast with a Michigan twang.)
MomH: "I saw him outside so he must be good." (Mom and Dad live across the road from the farm and see everything that's going on.)
Me: "But can he see yet?"
MomH: "He went to bow shooting tonight." (There's an indoor archery range nearby)
Me: "I suppose he needs to see for that."
MomH: "But he's REALLY good."
Me: "That's right - and blind people do archery, right?"
MomH: "Oh yes, there are competitions. He would do really well."
Me: "He could even compete in the Paralympics!"
Raymond won't be competing in the Paralympics any time soon, as his eyesight has returned and he's completely able-bodied. But if that were to change, we have plans for him.
That's all I gots for today.
Oh, and I'll throw in this quote from my Franklin Planner. It's yesterday's, but still pretty fresh for this 'hood.
The more you try to be interested in other people, the more you find out about yourself. - Thea Astley
Oh wait, both Brother Steve and Brother Ray had their birthdays in March. Here's the pic I would have posted had I remembered to do so at the time.
NOW that's all I gots. Later, peeps!
Just to begin, let me say that Brother Steve bought an old $100 computer on eBay four years ago for my folks so DadH can check out all the Michigan State sports commentary on Podunkville's dial-up internet service.
It's still faster than my two-year old Dell laptop and Cox cable modem. WTF??
That's the reason I've been slow at posting pics from home and wherever else. I wanted to post these pics for mah birfday and since it's 9:30 Arizona time now, it will probably be midnight here by the time I'm done with blob entry.
So here goes. First, I present to you the earliest known photograph of Yours Truly. You will note that my photo is cluttered up by my two brothers. From left to right, Steve, Ray and approximately 6-month old AmyH. Six months is a wild guess, BTW. Raymond looks like he was in a fight. He was a pain from the beginning so Steve may have popped him one.
What a goober of a baby I was. Now I'm kind of glad there are no more baby pics of me.
Let's move on to 18 months. We know this because MomH actually documented ages on the back of the picture. This notation is a rare find, indeed. MomH was very surprised by the discovery that she wrote anything at all.
Hmm, not much better there. Let's try for two.
This next pic is a fave. The Podunkville newspaper brought in a portrait photographer once a year so we country folk could get pictures taken. That's probably where the top two photos were from. For the next one, MomH says we had to wait an hour for our picture to be taken.
"I had three little kids under the age of seven, rolling around in the dirt, fighting, fussing and getting cranky. But we stayed and when your turn came, you were all smiles."
Yes, my middle name is Lynn. Booooring. As I mentioned before, I was named Amy so I wouldn't have a hard time spelling my name when I got to Kindergarten. Very thoughtful of my mother.
As for those stylin' shirts, MomH took a sewing class to learn the right way to use this newfangled godsend of a fabric - doubleknit polyester. DadH had a matching shirt, too. Swank-y!
She despised that fabric but at the time, she had no choice. Everyone was raving about the wrinkle-free, stain-resistant, most likely waterproof synthetic. The time period created her very own Depression stories: "That's all you could get, nothing else was available. It was awful. I was so glad when it was over."
Finally, my first solo portrait, age three. My Grandma & GrandpaH bought this for me when they were touring dairy farms over in Switzerland. GrandpaH probably bought it. I miss him terribly.
I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was sooo scared. I've gotten over my shyness since.
From here on out are my Ugly Years, all the way to say, age 32. No more pics tonight.
But tomorrow I turn 37 and life is fantastic. I have a wealth of wonderful friends, a loving family, the best kitty in the whole wide world, a solid credit rating, my own cordless drill, many great experiences and many more to come.
Thank you all so much for making me smile, listening to me complain and being there for me. What else can a gal really ask for?
None. None more else.
*blows kisses*
My time here back home is winding down. I'm back in the air to Arizona tomorrow. Wish me luck for safe travels and calm weather. I've been pretty lucky with winter weather travel so far, so I'm hoping my streak can extend at least one more time.
I don't mind flying on New Year's Eve. Not too many other people are flying and the ones who do are usually good humored and happy to have a beer with you while you wait to board. As long as I don't sit next to another leg-grabber, it'll be a good time. Gah. On the way out, the guy in the middle seat (I was on the aisle) was taking up the arm rests and a good deal of my space as well. I was over as far as possible to keep his elbow out of my ribs. Then he was pretending to be asleep when the tray tables were down. I was reading a Smithsonian mag (I try to catch up on my pile when I fly) when I felt something. I look down and while his hand was on the seat rest, his fingers were curled around the bottom and he was reaching for my leg.
Was he just trying to stretch his hand? Is this really happening? I looked at his other hand - nope. No being grabby with the guy on the other side of him. I felt ill and I was pissed. What do you do when there are no other seats available and you have two more hours ahead of you? I grabbed another magazine and put it between my leg and his straining fingers. Then he was going under the magazine. ACK! So I took the magazine, aimed the binding side down and hit his fingers. He said, "oh, excuse me" and then kept his hands on the tray table and in plain sight the rest of the time.
So let's hope for no more of that.
Life has been good here. All the early drama subsided and we had a great time. Tonight was a big family dinner with everyone, followed by some Euchre (a card game popular in the Great Lakes region). Danielle (12) wants to learn so we've been playing with her the last couple of nights. Last night, I told her that the only time her grandpa made me cry was during a Euchre game and I trumped his ace. I said he made me feel like the dumbest person in the world.
DadH: "Nope. There was a dumber one up at Narrow Lake a few years back. No one liked to play with him."
If the H's are good for anything, we're good for a laugh. And there's been quite a bit of that, which has been fun to be around.
It's been a busy week back home, full of family, dogs, cows, friends and Michigan State sports (went to campus twice to watch both men's and women's basketball teams; football and hockey on tv). I haven't checked in too much because we're on dial-up out here in the sticks. Very unreliable for one, and Dad always seems to waiting for a Very Important Call.
Mom tried to get me interested in the fertilizer salesman who stopped by to help Dad figure out some past billing. "He's a hard worker, owns a lot of property and isn't married at the moment." Thanks, Mom. Then as he was leaving I heard him say he needed a wife who can stay home and do the bookwork. I pointed out to Mom that the two things he was looking for in a spouse are two things I'm not very good at.
It's always tough to leave here but I'm looking forward to getting back to Elvis and my life out in the desert. Being home is good for the soul and I'm glad to remember what good people I come from.
I wish everyone a very happy New Year and all the best for 2008. May the year bring you strength, kindness and patience to get you through the rough patches and love, joy and understanding in all of your moments.
Who would you trust with your life?
Certainly not my family members.
Well, maybe my nieces. They're good kids.
The rest of them would be counting the beneficiary money before my body was cold. Dad would be out buying cows.
Granted, not a lot of cows. It's not like I'm rich or anything.
Don't get me wrong, I love my family. They're great. Just maybe a little too practical/survivalist for guarantees of compassion.
My mom put my extremely analytical, uncompassionate Brother Steve as their Power of Attorney. I said, "Are you really sure you want you want that to be Steve?"
"Yeah, I thought about that. Steve would pull the plug right away. Raymond would at least think about it."
Mom has also told me to take up motorcycle riding because Arizona doesn't have helmet laws. Thanks, Mom. Love you, too. :-P
(She was joking. I think.)
Share a story about your sibling(s) or a family member from when you were a kid.
Submitted by Jenny Marie.
You didn't think I was going to pass this one up, did you?
Let me set this up. This is a story that my dad likes to tell. It pretty much sums up life in our family during our formative years. My dad, as my mom will tell you, was into 'hands-off' parenting. He did not have a presence in our lives until we were teenagers and 'were finally interesting'. In his defense, he did save my life a couple of times when as a small child I put myself into danger around the farm. Whew!
Brother Ray is stuck firmly between Brother Steve and me in the birth order, with two years separating each sibling. He was an active child who couldn't sit still and when bored, took to picking at whomever was around until that person lost it and fought back. This was a favorite hobby of his.
My father is a wonderful storyteller, so it's hard to do him justice. But here goes:
"I was out in the shop working on a tractor when I heard the back door crash open. There goes little Raymond, running like a bat out of hell. Then the door flies open again, and here comes Steve, madder 'n a hornet.
I thought to myself, 'what in the blazes is going on here?!'
And then out comes little Amy. She couldn't have been more than five or six. She stands at the top of the steps and yells -
'Beat the shit of him, Steve! Beat the shit out of him!'
I just shook my head and thought, 'now where did she learn how to say that?'"
At this point, someone will ask him what he did next.
"Well, I sure wasn't going to get in the middle of that! I turned back around and kept working on my tractor."
St. Patrick's Day: Show us if you wore green or got a pinch.
I'm cheating on this picture, as I'd rather post this picture of my brothers and me, some 30 years after this picture was taken. But we are all in green, so that counts.
From left to right: Me, Brother Ray, Brother Steve. Brother Steve turns 40 today. Happy Birthday, Steve!
We ended up losing the game in the final minutes and Brother Ray said, "Well, Aim. You aren't allowed to come home anymore". Brother Steve said, "You can still come home, you just can't come to anymore football games."
You see, the year before I went home for MSU v Notre Dame - and we lost in the final minutes. I apparently am very bad luck.
I do, however, love seeing, "Michigan: 0" on the scoreboard behind us.
