kyra_ojosverdes: (sad)
To all you mothers.

Those of you near mothers: make it good, dammit.

Siblings: hugs, chocolate, and booze milkshakes. Love you.
E-mail atrocity Dad just sent )

Possible responses include "So what did it do?? What video played on your screen??" and "Oh no, you forwarded it to eight people! It'll only work if you forward it to exactly seven people! Better try that again, but this time don't send it to me!"

.. but I won't.
When I was eight, we lived in Cedar City, Utah while Dad was at sea. In the backyard were a couple of trees that [livejournal.com profile] redrita would climb ... to be attacked by swarms of ants ... and return to climb another day because damned if the ants were going to keep her out of the tree. If I was eight, she was four.

Also in the backyard was a patch of skunk cabbage. I had a secret hiding place either indoors or outdoors for every place we lived. In Utah, my secret outdoor hiding place was under the skunk cabbage. It was tall enough that I could sit underneath it. There were several plants, and their broad leaves arched over the packed reddish earth where I'd sit and think and be alone with myself.


Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] kightp for the memory.

My Sister

Mar. 17th, 2006 05:43 pm
... who called me at work today and chided me for sounding too cheerful with my work-phone-voice, is very funny.
Once upon a time in a land far, far in Orlando Florida, there lived in a village called "The Naval Housing Annex" a family. This family had a father, a mother, three daughters, and a little blond toddler son. Behind the family's home stood one of the village's several playgrounds, where the village children would swing, climb, and practice the taunts and posturing they'd need for adulthood.

The eldest daughter, named Katrina, was twelve years old. Her sisters Marissa and Jessica were of ten and eight years, respectively. One sunny day, Katrina and Jessica were at the playground. Katrina, much to her delight, had developed breasts and that day happened to be wearing a striped sweater which highlighted her "budding womanhood." The boys of the neighborhood displayed their delight by calling out "Katrina has boobies" and daring one another to run by, clutch one of Katrina's breasts, and run away before she could bestow upon them the asskicking they so richly deserved. They soon realized that they did not have much to fear from Katrina, as she was partially paralyzed with horror and wasn't doing much more than trying to cover her chest with her hands and yelling "Hey! Stop that! Leave me alone!"

They hadn't considered Jessica. She descended upon them like the pint-sized terror she was, all brown hair and blazing eyes and tanned monkeygirl limbs bent on avenging her sister's wounded dignity. One of the boys ran away after Jessica landed a couple good punches to his gut. The other boy, large for his age, stood there in awe as this tiny little girl kicked his shins and pounded her fists into his belly. Katrina stared in similar awe, her jaw hanging open, as the much larger boy tried to hold Jessica off. Jessica, much practiced in the art of wrestling her older sisters, slipped and slid away from his hands and returned to deliver more punishment. The boy finally broke and ran to the family's door, invoking that time-honored ceasefire clause of children everywhere: "I'm gonna tell your mama what you done." Jessica stood triumphant on the playground, daring the other boys to show themselves from where they hid, as Katrina walked toward the family's door to give her report of the events.

The boy stood at the door looking like a wounded puppy and begged the mother "Miz Familyname, you please tell Jessica to leave us alone?? She hurtin' us!"


... so when I say that [livejournal.com profile] redrita kicks ass, I mean that literally.
(Better late than never...)

I hope you had a wonderful birthday, Clint. You know you're my favorite brother in the whole wide world, right?? Good.
kyra_ojosverdes: (construction)
Saturday morning was supposed to be spent coming back to Montana.

Saturday morning was spent picking individual pieces of mail out of the snow and pushing/dragging large heavy containers of much mail up the embankment so they could be loaded into the U-Haul 20' trailer Dad had rented. The unloading of the trailer at the Post Office was much easier than the loading.

Semi cabs are apparently pretty hardy beasts, as are semi drivers. (Yay seatbelts. The driver "didn't have a scratch." I'll bet she's taking lots of ibuprofen right about now, though.) Semi trailers, on the other hand, go smoosh.

It was all quite interesting. As [livejournal.com profile] man0war ([livejournal.com profile] redrita's husband) said, "Well, NOW I have served my country in a time of need!"

I pulled a muscle in my back, but apparently 600mg ibuprofen plus a nap on a firm surface in an overheated room was the correct course of action. It twinges a bit now and then but is fine.

Cool Aunt

Nov. 25th, 2005 02:14 pm
This just in: I've regained my status as The Cool Aunt. I originally earned it (from [livejournal.com profile] redrita's spawn) at [livejournal.com profile] redrita's wedding. Apparently sometime this morning her oldest daughter remembered that I am, in fact, The Cool Aunt. I got some serious snuggling, followed by "I will tell you what I find fascinating in my world and will even offer to find the book so you too can know the hilarity that is CatZilla" conversations. [livejournal.com profile] redrita opines that I earned Cool Aunt status by listening and paying attention and treating the kids' utterances as Important Things.

Whatever. I prefer to think they've just had their eyes opened to my Inherent Coolitude.
I'm in Idaho with the immediate clan... Dad, my siblings (5 of us), our collective spawn (7), partners who have been picked up along the way (2).

I think we need to place an immediate moratorium on reproduction. We're too big for Dad's house.
kyra_ojosverdes: (sad)
Warning

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin sandals and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickles for a week.
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

- Jenny Joseph


I just bought a gift for my mother. Cut for bandwidth. )

It was too perfect not to buy. I'm not sure what I'll do with it, really, because I don't know where Mom's grave will be or when her remains will be interred, or anything, really. I considered wearing the hat to Mom's funeral, but wearing of hats in Mormon churches Is Not Done. I may hold it in my lap though, just because. I also considered buying one for each of my sisters, but I wasn't sure if they'd want one. It's too late to call, but I'll call in the morning and ask.

I wanted to explain the hat to everyone in the store, to tell them how my mother loved the poem and how I'm buying her the hat even though... I didn't, but I wanted to. I was there to buy some dress clothes for the boys in case they want to attend the funeral. I did that.

EDIT: I IMed with [livejournal.com profile] redrita about it. She thought it was a neat idea and that my sisters and I could wear the hats during the post-cemetary church meal thing, where the mood is more relaxed and where we wouldn't be shocking/offending anyone by breaking norms and unspoken rules. I'll be pushing it enough with my buzzcut.

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September 2007

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