Category: Uncategorized
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Apartment Living… one last story.
We only lived in that apartment for a year. Or less. Maybe it was 6 mos. Time is relative when you are five or six years old. When my son was little, he borrowed a video from another little boy who was about six. We told the other little boy we’d bring the video back…
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I Can’t Even… No Matter What
I have been seeing an Occupational Therapist for about four weeks because an issue I’ve been having with one of my hands. I am convinced my feisty little OT is 75% pyschotherapist and just 25% occupational therapist. She is a firm believer that the bulk of our physical ailments comes from inflammation, and inflammation is…
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And then there were three…
In the course of writing this blog, I came across a series of three pictures, all taken on May 25, 1969, the day we apparently went to pick up mom and our brand new baby sister, Peeper, from the hospital. Most of my stories to date have revolved around just me and Sheesh, my oh…
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More adventures in apartment living…
One day, I decided – in all my five-year-old wisdom – that Sheesh and I needed to take vitamins. I must have seen kids on TV taking Flintstone vitamins, and was afraid we were missing out on something really important. So, I went into the kitchen and pulled out of the cabinet the closest thing…
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That time with the TV
In addition to keeping my sisters fed and alive, and the apartment intact and clean, Mom gave me two hard and fast rules: never let anyone inside the apartment and never, EVER, leave the apartment. On one fateful day, I broke both those rules. Somehow in the midst of playing with Sheesh, we managed to…
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On being boss and apartment living, circa 1970
One of my friends who has been following this blog told me “I love how you acknowledge you were the boss lady.” Oh, girl. If only you knew! I laughingly told her that I took my role as eldest very seriously, and this is true. But honestly, it went waaay deeper than that. When we…
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Mandy, you’re a fine girl…
When my mom and biological father got divorced, he went off to Vietnam, and she left California for Virginia with me and my year and a half old little sister. Up to that point, the only vehicle I’d ever known was their giant white station wagon named Bessy. By the time we got to Virginia,…
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Homes are also complicated… pt 2
Recently, my husband was unpacking a box from our move nearly fourteen years ago – yes, I am that person – and found a pen and ink drawing of my childhood home that was made in 1990. That was the year that my parents were trying to shut down and sell the house that they’d…
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Homes are also complicated… pt 1
I looked up our childhood home on Zillow today – technology is amazing! It is listed as “4 BD – 2.5 BA – 1,881 sqft” WHAAA??? Two questions immediately come to mind: First, how did they come up with that configuration? And second, how is that house – the big house I grew up in…
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Families are complicated, pt 1
In the fall of 1970, my mom took the afternoon off work to run down to the justice of the peace and marry the man who would raise me and my sisters. They moved us out of the Maryland apartment building where we’d been living on the 16th floor for about a year and a…
Only An Egg 