Nostalgia’s Recruiting

It’s been strangely quiet the last few days.

Nostalgia’s been pouting, again. She has been unable to recruit anyone to accompany her to the FGS Conference in San Antonio.

“A true lady has an escort,” she growled, before spying me in the kitchen making some tea.

“Rabbit,” she then said sweetly, “why don’t YOU come with me to Texas?”

Oh, no,” I replied. “I’m not joining your entourage. I could not handle the embarrassment.”

FGS2014“It will be fun. I could introduce you to everyone,” she teased, clinging to my arm. “I know almost all of genealogy’s rock stars and royalty, you know!”

I chuckled quietly as I recalled details of Nostalgia’s cameo appearance in Utah, last February.

“Yes, you do, Gia. Yes, you do.”

“What’s so funny?” she asked, releasing me from her talons and taking a defensive step back.

“Oh, just remembering the Pirate Queen’s story of the Powder Mountain Flamingo!”

Nostalgia groaned and covered her face. “She promised that she wouldn’t tell you!”

“She didn’t,” I quipped, my smile growing devilishly wider. “She told her consort, and he told me.”

“Oh, do I want to know?” she quietly asked.

“Ahem!” I cleared my throat and began:

“On the glistening slopes of Powder Mountain, dressed in hot, neon pink, you were graceful like a flamingo …”

Gia’s eyes widened, a small look of surprise overtook her frightened face.

“Taking a run down the course, you swayed left and right — as if to music, although nothing played …”

The Old Banshee sat up, now beaming at the royal account of her snowboarding prowess.

“In and out, you carefully weaved past others that appeared to be still, until …”

She winced.

“A little guy wiped out a few feet from you, sliding into your flight path …”

“I remember him, the poor Dear,” Nostalgia cried.

“You somersaulted to avoid him,” I continued, “to the cheers of everyone near …”

She beamed proudly. “Yes! Yes, I did!”

“… but in doing so, you lost your balance upon landing …”

“Oh, that,” she sadly admitted, “that was very embarassing.”

“… and careened down the remainder of the course …”

“Thank you, Dearie,” she added, “that’s quite enough.”

“… like a deadly avalanche …” I continued obliviously.

“That’s enough, Rabbit,” she glared.

“… screaming ALL the way!”

“RABBIT!”

[Chuckling, I quickly took my cue and fled.].

My Texas Wish List #FGS2014

I really wish I was able to go
And discover Texas, this year;
But work and family needs (Alas!),
Consume all my time, I fear.

But if I could go — and you want to know
There are things that I would attest
To do, so take heed, if you really don’t need
To be involved in my (pending) arrest!

[1] A riverwalk talk with a PirateWoman
(ThePirateQueen, if she is free);
[2] A photo with Thomas* and Joshua* (*MacEntee & Taylor)
(if they’re not too afraid of me)!

[3] A late venture to the Alamo
To take in its sun-bleached splendor;
And hear the walls as they each tell
Those who did not surrender.

[4] A little chat with Lady “Dear”
(DearMyrtle, for her to recall);
When she started her genealogy,
What was her first brickwall?

[5] Wander about until I am lost
(which is, very often, a habit);
Just to be greeted with the friendly question:
“What are you doing, Rabbit?”

[6] Expand my reference collection of books
On genealogy;
[7] And, hopefully, get them autographed
(If I can bribe the authours that be!).

[8] Then, get involved in “lightning convos”
As we wait for a speakers to start;
[9] Then reconvene and wrap it up
Before we all depart.

FGS2014

Meeting Junior’s “Miss”

It was Friday … about three weeks ago.

 Not your typical Friday though — Nostalgia, Milady and I took a trip to the aeroport with Junior to pick up his “Miss.”

 Showing up 45minutes before her arrival, we found a parking stall with little problem.

 Wandering around inside like a quartet of tourists, we eventually located the terminal arrival screens and argued as to exactly which gate Junior’s “Miss” would be deplaning from.

 There are only five gates at the aeroport: A, B, C, D and E, where “E” is reserved for international flights; but there are over 16 carousels.

 “She’ll be here around 17.17 at gate B,” I read aloud. “And her bags will ride carousel 16.”

 MiLady looked around the lower concourse, her eyes focusing on a gate across the way.

(Is this is where I mention discreetly it was the wrong gate she was staring at ;)

 Junior looked out of place in the middle of the large expanse of floor. Carousels to his left and right. Two escalators and a large, wide staircase sat in front of him, while four large terminal screens hovered behind him.  Travellers bustled in all directions around him.

 It was strange to watch my son through it all. He stood like a Pacific coast totempole in British Columbia, towering over everyone. Impressive and immovable.

 Nostalgia was her typical self — chatty …  Annoyingly chatty.

 “There is nowhere to sit down,” she screeched before pointing back from where we came. “Unless we go waaayyy over there!”

 Junior stood silent.

 MiLady and I turned and reviewed the screens. We still had a 20minute wait. Flights from the American mid-west and west coast had arrived early, as did a couple flights from the northern quarter of our Wild Rose province.

 “One flight has been delayed thirty minutes,” Nostalgia announced.

 Junior scrambled and looked at the terminals wide-eyed.

 “Not hers, Sweetie,” MiLady said to him calmly. “She’s still on time.”

 My son relaxed and in three strides was back to his sentry spot in the middle of the floor.

 Three more flights came and went before the clock finally flipped to 17:17

 In one flowing move, we all turned towards the staircase and escalators and waited.

7:18

7:19

7:20

7:21

 7:22

Nostalgia was first to break the silence.

 “I knew it, I knew it!” she wailed, “She’s not coming!”

“Gia!” I growled under my breath, “Shut up!”

“The poor dear,” she continued, pointing at my oldest son.

 I looked at Junior, still standing in place with his arms folded across his chest. Staring down the emptiness.

 “I doubt her plane is at the top of the staircase,” MiLady implied, directing her comments to Nostalgia, who slowly got the hint.

 “Dear’st,” I then called to my soulmate. “Look!”

 As a thick and noisy gaggle of travellers came down to the lower concourse, Junior craned his neck to get a better look up the staircase and escalators, then bolted like a hunter’s dog flushing out a grouse in marsh reeds.

“Where did he go?” MiLady asked, too short to see over the exodus of travellers.

“Over there!” I pointed off to the left.

After a tender moment, Junior came back proudly with his shy girl in tow.

“Oh,” Gia commented quietly behind us. “She’s tall too.”

After introductions, it was evident: Junior’s “Miss” was terrified!

I leaned in and apologized to the poor girl telling her not to worry. Nostalgia normally has this effect on people.

Travelling Back in Time

Thirteen years ago, I “travelled back in time for a future” with MiLady. [Yes, I need to explain that.].

When my favourite girl and I got together, it was after six months of conversing over e-mails, and MSN.

We tried telephone calls but $500 bills (amassed after only two weeks) put the kabosh on that! She had also came out for a two week visit, as she had never seen Eastern Canada or the Fort Drum area of New York State.

Yes, she lived in Western Canada not far from the Rocky Mountains, while I was in the opposite direction near the Great Lakes.

As for my travelling back in time comment, that referred to the three time zones that kept hindering our opportunities to talk indepth. If it was noon in Alberta, it was already 2p.m. in Ontario!

But, playing on those words, I called her at work one summer afternoon.

“We are four weary (and very hungry!) men that have travelled back in time to make a future with you,” I had said when she picked up the phone.

And, here we are!

But now, I am wondering if History is destined to repeating itself.

Last night, Junior made a late night call. Late as in, MiLady had already gone to bed and I was in the process of shutting off the telly and lights before following after her. Add to it, Junior doesn’t call that late.

“Can I talk to Mum?” he asked. “I need to tell her something.”

“She went to bed,” I answered. “It is okay to tell me instead?”

“Hmmm,” he paused. “Yeah, okay.”

Junior then proceeded to tell me that MiLady and I would be able to meet his girlfriend next month. He had just purchased her flight ticket. She would arrive early Friday evening (around 5pm) from British Columbia, and would be staying until some-time-I-forgot on Sunday.

“Oh!” I said rather surprised. “That’s very nice.”

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Junior asked with concern.

“What’s her name?”

My son laughed after realizing that the last time he and I had a serious conversation was a few months ago. He then gave me the details of how they met back in high school, but her family moved to the west coast at the end of that school year. Then, they re-connected through Facebook.

“Remember taking me to the bus depot a few weeks ago?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I replied.

“It was her graduation that she invited me to.”

He then went into more details — this time, regarding his visit. He met her family and close friends, and everyone seemed very impressed with him.

“Of course, they would,” I commented proudly. “You were raised like an old-fashioned rabbit!”

Junior laughed again and continued.

“Dad, will you tell Mum to check her e-mail?”

“Okay, but why does she need to do that?”

“I sent her a copy of the flight intinerary.”

“Oh, that!” I realized, “Sure, I’ll tell her and we’ll take you to the aeroport to pick up your girl.”

[Silence.].

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked, now pacing across the living room carpet like a sentry.

“She goes back home on Sunday,” Junior said.

“Yes, we can take you back to drop her off. No problem, Son.”

“Dad … I’m going back with her.”

[Silence.].

“Dad?” my oldest said lingering on the word.

“Yes, Junior.”

“Are you okay?” [More lingering emphasis.].

“Yes, Junior.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” I answered slowly, “but you get to tell Mum that surprise.”

“She already knows,” came the shocker. “She just didn’t know when.”

We exchanged a few more questions and answers before hanging up.

I then went upstairs and told MiLady the conversation. She was not surprised, she did know most of it.

Returning downstairs, I sat in the dim lamp light of the living room and pondered.

Does History repeat itself?

  • Junior’s lady travels west to met his family. (MiLady did the same to meet mine.).
  • Junior travels back with her. (MiLady left alone, but I travelled back a few weeks later with three little men.).

====================

It was three in the morning when I next looked at the clock!

Nostalgia was sitting beside me, reading.

“Oh, you are awake!” she chided.

“Not for long,” I glared at her.

“Something’s bothering you,” she commented, “you are not normally this way.”

“Junior’s moving.”

Nostalgia’s face lit up. “Oh, good, he found a place! Will he be moving into the city? How close will he be?”

“Yes, he did. And yes, he will. And just under 14-hours of driving … He’s moving to B.C. On the island.”

Gia’s face froze for 13.18 seconds.

It was so serene, I loved it!

Fashion Sense #FGS2014

How do I know the FGS Conference in San Antonio is getting closer?

Nostalgia is re-packing, again — for the third time!

  • Three carry-on bags — three — full of cosmetics. (There! I used the word.);
  • Five weekend bags stuffed with her new wardrobe that no one, other than MiLady, has seen; and,
  • Three large (empty) suitcases.

My mind reeled at the thought of what the airports will charge to transport it all to San Antonio.

“Is she seriously taking all that with her?” I asked referring to Gia’s purchases from earlier in the day, as MiLady and I shared a late night tipple, upon the stone patio overlooking our wee garden.

My girl nodded and took another sip of her first margarita, then smiled approvingly.

I shook my head in disbelief. “You’ve seen her new wardrobe, Dear’st. Need I be worried?”

MiLady took another sip before answering.

“No, MiLove,” she said softly as she patted then rested her free hand upon mine. “You have nothing to worry about …”

“Good!” I replied, downing whatever it was that I was drinking.

“Although, Thomas might,” she giggled, “the poor man!”

With eyes as wide as saucers, I looked at my girl. She knew that she had to explain without my having to ask.

“I’ll need another drink,” she began, lifting her empty glass.

I rapped the kitchen window and Captain came into view.

“Refills, Sir.”

The door opened and Chef appeared to take our empty glasses as Captain came out with our new ones.

When the door closed, MiLady began.

The sun was beginning to set and the temperature had dropped to a slight chill, when she had finished.

“Can we go in now?” she asked rubbing her bare arms to warm up. “It’s gotten too cold.”

[Nothing.].

“Dear’st? Are you okay?”

I nodded, as I stared at my untouched beverage. My mind deep in thought. My face whiter than milk.

MiLady got up from her chaise and stepped behind me, before kissing my head and running her hands up and down my arms.

“What are you thinking?” she asked softly as she hugged me, still trying to warm up.

“Poor Thomas!” I downed my drink. “I hope he survives it!”

FGS2014

She Needs What for Texas? #FGS2014

Saturday morning last, Nostalgia rose bright ‘n’ early and recruited MiLady.

They were gone in 35minutes — and it must have been urgent; they took the van!

When they returned, it was very late in the evening and the van was encumbered with bags and packages. It took well over an hour with everyone’s assistance to unload it all.

And there were a couple packages that required Herculean effort to carry upstairs to the Old Banshee’s room, which began said conversation:

“What’s in this?” Chef inquired, as he huffed and puffed up the staircase. “Lead?”

“A dead body maybe?” Captain teased with a wide grin.

“Nah, box ain’t big enough,” his little brother answered. “Might hold a head.”

“Could fit a torso in this one,” I chimed in, pointing to Captain’s load. “Gia was saying that she was interested in DNA testing.”

Both sons screwed up their faces, delivered the packages and quickly fled.

I was leaving the room, after dropping off four shopping bags, as both girls entered very chatty.

“Hello, Dear’st,” my girl beamed, kissing my cheek and rubbing a hand on my chest. “Did you miss me?”

“Always,” I responded, returning the buss and lightly goosing her behind as she floated past.

“Rabbit!” Nostalgia chided. “That wasn’t appropriate!”

“Oh, course, it was,” I defended, “she’s my wife. Now, if I did that to you, that would be inappropriate.”
I paused, then after re-considered my words, I added, “Actually, if I did that to you, I’d expect an over-night stay and a thorough psyche evaluation.”

“If you did that to her, I’d expect a divorce!” MiLady added coldly.

I needed to change the topic … Very Quickly!

“What is all this junk?” (I knew this would work.).

“IT’S NOT JUNK!” Nostalgia screeched, almost in tears, as she ran to the bathroom and locked the door.

Yes, it was a surprise to me too.

I was dumbstruck — that never happened before!

I turned to my soulmate for answers.

“Gia went shopping for new clothes and asked me to come along as a second opinion.”

“Ohhhh,” was the most intelligent response I could muster with my deer-in-the-headlights look.

“She said she needed new clothes, new shoes, new hair …”

“New face,” I continued with a smirk.

MiLady backhanded me across the chest and told me to stop teasing.

“But it’s my only fun when she’s here,” I whined like a two-year-old. “I can’t pick fights with her anymore, she wins.”

Chef, Captain, Junior and Paige (MiLady’s daughter from previous marriage) all staggered in with the dregs of Gia’s shopping spree: six more bags and four more boxes.

Looking everything over, I noticed all the contents in the bags were black.

Black? That’s very odd, I thought, Gia has always been attracted to bright and vibrant colours.

I then gave the nearest box a light kick.

It didn’t move. It didn’t even budge — (but I was almost certain that I broke two toes!).

Cursing in Gaelic, I grabbed my injured foot and starting hopping in a circle. (It is very rare, if you ever get the chance to see a rabbit hopping on one foot. I will admit, it is not very graceful, but amusingly memorable.).

“What is IN that one?” I demanded, glaring at the object wishing I had Superman’s x-ray vision to inspect it followed quickly by heat vision to blow it up!

“Gia’s new boots, I think,” my favourite girl responded suppressing a giggle.

“All these boxes are boots and shoes?!?” I asked wide-eyed.

MiLady smiled. “Most of them.”

“M-m-most?” I stuttered. “What on Earth is in the rest of them?”

“Curling iron. Blow dryer. Makeup case …”

Flabbergasted, I blew up.

“What does she need all this junk –“

“IT’S NOT JUNK!” screeched from behind the bathroom door, surprising both of us.

FGS2014MiLady smiled wider. “Nostalgia wants to surprise a particular gentleman when she goes to the FGS Conference in Texas.”

It took a moment for me to comprehend what I heard, before I walked over to the door and knocked.

“Send it all back, Gia,” I said to the door. “You don’t need to impress anyone.”

Under my wife’s approving gaze, I waited for an answer.

[Nothing.].

“Nostalgia,” I continued, “I think I know you well enough to tell you: just be yourself.”

Still nothing, although the light under the door did appear to show slight movement.

“If they cannot accept you as you are, none of them are deserving of your company.”

It was then MiLady quietly hugged me and nodded that I continue, but I had a problem: I had nothing left! That hug distracted me!

“Besides,” I paused, failing to regain my track of thought. “How can you afford all this? Have you booked your flight and hotel room yet?”

A faint whimpering whine combined with a blood-curdling yowl was heard from the door.

“I’ll take that as a ‘No.'” I finished, scrambling to the staircase as MiLady quietly pleaded her way into the bathroom.

Once downstairs, I fell into my chair and nursed my injured foot as my little rabbits slowly gathered round.

I relayed my misadventures of the dangerous goods in their auntie’s inner sanctum. Their eyes widened — in reaction probably to my stupid box-kicking rather than fear of any of the shopping contents.

Chef was the first to ask, “What’s in those boxes, Dad?”

“Cement,” I answered, “and other road re-construction materials.”

Paige smirked, “You mean cosmetics, don’t you?”

“Same thing, isn’t it?” I winked back at her, as she shook her head and bravely ventured upstairs to assist her mother.

Our Ancestry By The Numbers

This is a brief outline for my relatives, curious of our ancestry and how we were a part of history, or more properly how we missed history.
=====================================
[1] Our earliest know ATKINSONs sailed from England five (5) years before an eighteen-year-old Victoria was crowned Queen of England!
[FACT: Victoria crowned June 28, 1838; to date, she is the longest reigning monarch. Queen Elizabeth II is currently second.]

It was February 1833, when they left for Upper Canada, but what else was happening in the World?

[1] British parliament had passed “The Factory Act” to regulate the labour of children as young as nine (9) years of age, in mills and factories.

[2] The United States of America was being guided by the experienced hand of her seventh president, a veteran of their Revolution, a general named Andrew “Stonewall” JACKSON.

[3] There was no Canada, as we know it, and, of course, no Prime Minister.

[FACT: The Dominion of Canada began in 1867. Before that, it was called Canada West starting in 1840. Prior to that, our country's humble beginnings were Upper Canada (later Ontario) and Lower Canada (later Quebec) starting in 1791.].

[FACT: First PM didn't take office until 1867, when John Alexander Macdonald, a Scottish barrister from a fledgling Ontario Street practice in Kingston, Ontario  reluctantly took the position that no one wanted.].

eiffel and liberty[4] When they got off the boat in New York City, that familiar & welcoming maternal figure of so many immigrants, Lady Liberty, was not there with her torch aloft!

[FACT: This endearing lady did not take up residence on Bedloe's Island and greet "your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free"  until 1886, when President Grover Cleveland accepted her from President Jules Grévy of France.].

[DID YOU KNOW: Lady Liberty looks out over the Atlantic Ocean for a reason? She has a little sister looking back at her from Paris, France.].

[5] And Ellis Island was just that, an island. Nothing more than empty real estate!

[FACT: It was designated as a federal immigration center in 1890; and it was another two years before a bustling trickle of 22 MILLION immigrants were directed through it!].

[FACT: Prior to Ellis Island, newcomers went through Castle Garden, a pioneering collaboration of New York State and New York City. Ten MILLION arrivals came through this first official immigration center from 1855 to 1890. Both of these locations are now museums with respective websites.].

[FACT: Before Castle Garden, colonizers were channeled through Battery Park, because prior to 1855 there was not an official immigration-processing center. Shipping companies presented passenger lists to the Collector of Customs, and travellers made whatever declarations were necessary before going on their merry way.].

[6] But, our family members were not processed here either, because British Consul, James Buchanan had written a letter excusing them, their luggage and personal effects.

[FACT: Mr. Buchanan was British Consul in New York from 1816 until 1843.].

So, all this history, and we missed it due to no sense of of timing.

Hoping it isn’t hereditary.

 

Summer Preparations

June.
The sign that the indecisive lingerings of Winter are finally gone, and you can put away that ergonomic snow shovel for the last time.

Spring is present — albeit late, of course — north of the 49th Parallel, but it is this long awaited arrival of June that also signifies many changes in your family:
- graduations
- weddings
- anniversaries
- family reunions

and, my favourite, the family vacation, which is really a genealogical research road trip!

“It’s official,” MiLady announced one evening not too long ago. “We’re done!”

My curious look answered her, as she pointed to The Smiling Wall.

“Everyone’s graduated!” she beamed, as I slowly realized what she was talking about.

“What do we do now?” I asked her. She looked at me and beamed brighter with a wider smile.
[Aside: I still haven't figured out what that means.].

In The Rabbit Household, changes this year are finalizing, winding down as it were, but picking up elsewhere:
– Chef, our youngest rabbit, graduates high school;
– Hyper, our oldest grand-rabbit starts Kindergarten; and
– then there is the anticipated arrival in late September-early October of two more grand-rabbits. Yes, twins, which should bring eye-opening excitement to the next generation of Rabbit parents.

July.
Aside from the assortment of birthdays, there are not any weddings or family reunions this year, but MiLady and I will have a quiet celebration for our 11th wedding anniversary. (That’s if you call spending the day at the annual amusement park, a quiet celebration.).
We are still contemplating if we will take the day off or the week off for other activities.

August.

FGS2014My deepest apologies, but I am so excited about August. The 2014 FGS Conference is in San Antonio, Texas, and I so wish that I was able to go, but Nostalgia has volunteered to go in my stead!

Now, I am not sure if this is a very good idea, but it does mean The Rabbit Household will be a Nostalgia-free zone for about a week!

To update “HER” Conference status, I braved the worst, last night, and started a conversation with the Old Banshee, as she laboured over her packing lists. Yes, “lists” plural.

“Have you figured out which conference speakers you will be imposing on, Gia?”

Without looking up, she answered smugly, “I figured that out long ago, Dearie.”

I waited for her to continue.

[Nothing.].

“Well?” I inquired further. “Who are you going to appoint to attend you?”

[No response.].

“Will you warn them in advance, again?” I teased, remembering her mistake last Halloween.

THAT got a reaction out of her! There was a loud SNAP, as her head jerked up and her eyes zeroed in on mine.

“You are a nasty-nasty man!” she spat. “And no, I shan’t be contacting them.”

TPQ“Do I need to sever any of my genealogical friendships in advance of your impending Texas invasion?”

Nostalgia looked over her eyeglass rims like Canada’s near-extinct research librarians.

“What are you babbling about, now?” she asked.

The Pirate Queen will be conducting another audience with Her Court,” I stated matter-of-factly.

She sat up straight.

“As well as, Sir Joshua (Taylor), Lady Amy (Johnson Crow) and …” I paused for effect. “Your Thomas (McEntee) will be there.”

RPCourt

Her tired eyes sparkled.

I smiled wide. I had her!

“Get out!” she ordered, pushing me through the doorway as her eyes scanned her open closet. “I have to pack!”

“But, you said you were done, Gia.” I smirked to myself.

“MiLADY!” she bellowed, “HELP ME!”

Instantaneously, my cell began vibrating.

Standing in the hallway, I pulled my phone from my pocket and smiled when I looked down at the screen.

It was the all-familiar smiling photo my beloved soul-mate, sending me yet another romantic — or just maybe, a rare and more suggestively adult — text.

message

Dang it.

 

All Stars Converge Upon Lone Star State #FGS2014

The date of the 2014 FGS Conference in San Antonio comes closer. Less than 3 months.

I know this due to the Ambassadors listed upon the conference website, containing big name genealogists and researchers with an amassed experience that I cannot tabulate without gaining a migraine and knots in my long rabbit ears!

Now, I do not know about you, but when I am out-and-about on a limited time-frame, I always find that I have too much to do and not enough time to do it in! I also discover (usually on my homebound trip) that I missed my chance for a photo with her (again!), or a coffee chat with him, etc, etc, etc.

So, to remedy those missed moments, I put together a little card — much like a Bingo card, but each square signifies something I need to do, or someone I need to see, before heading home. Like this:

bingocardFGS

(Perhaps the genealogical societies in the Exhibitors Hall might have some ideas to fill a few squares of similar cards?) (O.o)?

The majority of squares in this example are occupied with the names of my fellow FGS Conference Ambassadors. They and many of my friends are attending, this year, and I hope that you have the opportunity to say Hello to each of them, especially if you cannot listen to their presentations.

But if you hear any fan-girl squeals in your travels, run far, far away! Nostalgia is near and closing in on you!

And you REALLY don’t want that!

FGS2014

The Wall of Smiling Young Men

Tgraduation2014Today, (Friday May 23rd, 2014), Chef’s high school graduation photos finally arrived!

After MiLady finished looking over “the Time-Stop Momento,” I changed Chef’s picture from last year and put up this new one. >>>

“There!” I announced to the room, as I stepped off the ladder. “All of our precious little rabbits, from oldest to youngest, at their finest (graduation) and in a straight line!”

Nostalgia was the first to comment.

“You must be so proud, Dearie,” she beamed at MiLady.

“I am,” my girl smiled.

“Hey, what about me?” I whimpered, tugging the Old Banshee’s sleeve.

“The second picture’s too low,” Ye Olde Battle-Axe retorted.

MiLady giggled, “Don’t listen to her, Dear’st, it isn’t. Everything is perfect the way it is.”

I smiled and thanked my girl, as I glared past my nemesis on my way to put away the ladder.

In retaliation, Gia spun around and sat next to MiLady — occupying the very place I was to take, before I re-entered the room.

MiLady pointed out to her, “See, Captain has that mischievous twinkle in his eye!”

Nostalgia nodded in agreement, “And Chef does have Rabbit’s smile but Junior’s got that smirk!”

“Who has a smirk?” I asked grinning with my trademark half-smile.

“No, not you, Dear’st,” my soulmate answered. “Junior has it, look!”

I looked to the wall of smiling young men — all of them clean-shaven and clean-cut, wearing collared shirts and ties, then shook my head.

“No, sorry,” I replied with the most serious face I could compose. “I don’t know who these young gents are. Are you sure they are ours?”

Nostalgia’s jaw dropped, as MiLady chucked a loveseat pillow at me! (She missed.).

“Here, Dearie,” Gia said, eagerly passing her the other, “Try again, he moved!”

“STAND STILL, RABBIT!” Nostalgia bellowed, “MiLady is tossing you a Love Tap!”

[Love tap?!? Really? The pillows are the size of Hobbits!]

“Yes!” I finally confessed as the second cotton cannonball careened off the side of my head. “Yes, he does! Chef has my smile, my appetite … and the Rabbit family ears!”

Then I pointed at Nostalgia, “And not another word out of you, you old banshee! You instigated this!”

Nostalgia glared at me before feigning innocence and pardoning herself.  Her excuse: she needed to review her packing lists for her trip to Texas!

Yes, plural, LISTS! As in more than one. How many more, no one knows at this time, it’s far too soon; but if her trip to Salt Lake City was any indication, Gia will need a DC-10 for her cosmetics alone.

FGS2014


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#genchat AUG08: Fraternal Socities

My Other Blogs (1)

ROCK OF AGES: GRAVE CONCERNS

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RAINGATE: LETTERS TO LEXIE


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