Straight from the Bottle
by cindy
Blogging is all about stories. At least that’s the intention of this blog. Sometimes stories just flow, like booze from a bottle.
And sometimes they do not. Sometimes they have to rest for a bit. Or be shaken a little. Or maybe chilled. Or, in my case, bits of cork need to be removed. Large bits of cork, to be honest.
Nonetheless, I realized today that we are more than midway through the summer and I have a growing list of stories I’d hoped to share. Since this bottle of mine is a bit clogged, the stories just aren’t flowing quite the way I’d like. So, I’ll apologize upfront for this mixed drink of a post: little bits of this and that and nothing of great consequence. Just a taste, perhaps. A bit of a sip.
Look! I’m tossing in some photos to make it all look pretty. Kinda like cocktail umbrellas!
Cheers!
A few months ago I wondered if the Peanut would be too big to sleep in my arms when we next got to see each other. Turns out, she was not…
And in case you were wondering if she still wears fancy hats, thanks to my special flair for fashion, she does…
As does the ever-stylish Baba, grill-master extraordinaire…
Perhaps you think that our summer is filled with crowds and chaos? Well, actually, yes, it is. After all, my family are my friends and my friends are my family. We gather in clusters, large and small, and any ensuing chaos is simply part of the mix. We have fun as often as we possibly can. The pool helps…
It is the best of times when our grandkids are around. Since we don’t get to see our Chicago Family very often, we made the most of our time together, helping in any way we could…such as feeding the Peanut when she was a bit stubborn about the menu…
It takes a village, does it not? And yes, we were covered with carrots, all three of us. And that led to a counter top bath…
Anything we could do so the parents could relax and eat in peace, well, sorta…
It is particularly wonderful when we get to visit with friends from our early days of parenting. It “took a village” then, too, and my survival as a young mother was inexorably tied to this woman, Aunt Oofie…
Often we commemorate a gathering with a group shot. Everyone is patient and in good spirits and we get to tease our master photographer when the camera slips down the tripod. Or when he insists on “just one more” for the umpteenth time…
I have to say it. I must. I MUST!…
Bottoms up!!
The End.
Thanks for sticking around, folks!
You are one lucky lady — congrats on a lovely family!
Thanks, Amy! They do keep me hopping (er, drinking…take your pick…).
You seem to have excellent keyboard skills. Where did you learn to type? Was there anyone who inspired you to do well, or provided some levity along the way?
Ahem…I seem to remember…it’s all rather hazy…there was someone on my left…a typing class partner? Who was more interested in sharing tales from the weekend parties…that I didn’t necessarily attend? Hmmm…It’ll come back to me eventually and maybe end up a story. Here. On this here blog. Watch out, Eric!!
I WAS on the left. So your long term memory is still intact. As to the stories, if I was telling them, they were probably elaborate fabrications meant to impress one of the few (respected, smart, funny, kind) girls I actually knew. Hope all is well with you. Best way to keep track of me lately is through the WV Jazz Society’s facebook page. I have met so many wonderful people from the jazz world that it takes my breath away.
Nothing like a happy ending!