There are three types of romance novels: the good, the bad and the ugly. Come celebrate the bad and the ugly with Uncle Walter!
Quotes posted Tuesdays and Thursdays.
(Unrelated posts will be tagged "notromance" for TS.)
On February 10, 2023 we accomplished yet another goal. We managed to raise our second (and last!) child to adulthood without horribly traumatizing them!
The Boy is funny, kind, compassionate, empathetic, and sincere. He has struggled through and overcome a lot of adversity, and we are so proud of the man he has become.
We could not have asked for better companions for this journey. It’s been 18 years of awesome, just like your shirt says. Happy Birthday!
You may remember that Uncle Walter works in a government building.
Not long ago, I received this text from him.
You need to understand, this display case is right next to a photo of the Director of the government organization.
The following day there was a note left by the person who had changed the case the day before. He explained that he has a very stressful job and that Twilight brings him happiness, so he doesn’t care what anyone thinks. Then went on to explain why he was Team Jacob.
Sadly, the day after that the display was removed.
Unfortunately I have no photos of this. Photography is not allowed in the building. 😞
I spoke to UW this morning before he left for work. Apparently, the only reason the display was removed is because that case is reserved for a specific government agency. Word is that they would have left it, except for that.
*There is now a picture of Jasper on a nearby bulletin board.*
You may remember that Uncle Walter works in a government building.
Not long ago, I received this text from him.
You need to understand, this display case is right next to a photo of the Director of the government organization.
The following day there was a note left by the person who had changed the case the day before. He explained that he has a very stressful job and that Twilight brings him happiness, so he doesn’t care what anyone thinks. Then went on to explain why he was Team Jacob.
Sadly, the day after that the display was removed.
Unfortunately I have no photos of this. Photography is not allowed in the building. 😞
(Guys! Guys! SOMEONE WROTE ME A STORY! In response to THISpost, tookmelongenough-right wrote me this adorable tale. I’d love to see other takes on this as well! So the offer still stands, but in the meantime, tookmelongenough-right, we’ll send you some romance novels! – though it may take a bit for international shipping. And THANKS AGAIN!)
Sooooo… The Boy tested positive on the 24th. My PCR hasn’t come back, but home test and symptoms say I’m positive, too. Uncle Walter is at his aunt and uncle’s house. The Kid is isolating in other parts of the house.
The Boy and The Kid have both Pfizer shots, but hadn’t been able to get boosters yet (The Kid gets his tomorrow). Uncle Walter got both Pfizer shots and a Pfizer booster. I had 3 full Moderna doses.
The Boy seems to be okay. It’s more like a regular cold for him.
I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. My immune system is severely compromised. Right now I’m just hoping it doesn’t get worse.
We’ve been so careful. I double mask, wash & sanitize, barely leave the house. The Boy has been careful, too, and ONLY goes to school. But his school has had the most infections in our county.
PLEASE get vaccinated. Please wear masks. Please wash your hands properly. Please, please, PLEASE stay home. I know everyone wants to be able to spend time with their families. But you know what? We wanted to spend time together, too.
I generally don’t answer calls if I don’t recognize the number, and only occasionally go through my voicemails from unknown numbers. So I just recently checked this one from November 22:
Good morning this message is being left for (The Wife**) please forward the following information to CG* my name is Dawn, I’m calling on behalf of A&A. I am reaching out due to a pending civil complaint that was filed against C** in Ln County****. Due to no contact he*** is instructed to call (#). They will ask for a reference ID number. That number will be (#). Please be advised if Mr.*** G does not make contact before the end of the business day November 22, 2021, this office is prepared to move forward without his consent or acknowledgment. C**G has been notified.”
*they pronounce her name properly. **they pronounce her name (and mine) incorrectly. ***they apparently think she was a man. ****Ln County is where I grew up.
So I call them back. I give the reference number.
Me: “So, um, CG is my MOM. She’s also been DEAD since 2014, so I don’t think she’s going to be able to respond to your civil complaint.”
Them: dead silence.
Me: “I mean, you could TRY to contact her, but you’re going to need a Ouija board…”
(At this point The Boy, who’s in the back seat of the car, starts giggling.)
Me: “…and I’m pretty sure she won’t respond, because I don’t think she has her own Ouija board, and even if she did it would BE ON FIRE.”
(At this point, The Boy completely loses it.)
Them: “…oh.”
Me: “I guess you could try to go after some sort of estate, but unless you want the cheap QVC earrings she left me, you’re probably going to be disappointed.”
(The Boy is in hysterics.)
Them: “um…well… it looks like someone from her estate called earlier to notify us.”
Me: “I guess that would be one of my brothers, so that’s okay. Unless it was the earrings calling.”
Them: “well… um… thank you for letting us know. We’ve put a note about it in our file.”
The thing is:
1) Mom died in 2014 — Seven years ago..
2) she was incarcerated in either jail or an institution from 2005 until her death, so there’s literally no way she incurred any additional debts for nearly 10 years before she died.
3) for about 5 years before she was incarcerated she lived in LK county, not Ln county, which means we’re at least *twenty-one years* from when she could have incurred a debt in Ln county.
This is all fucking sad and hilarious. My kid, though, thinks it’s fantastic that I essentially told them that my mom is in hell.
It’s been over a year since Wally passed. I didn’t necessarily want a puppy, but how could I resist? She’s almost 10 weeks old. We’ve been having some trouble with a name, but the various and sundry children of the house want Cici, standing for Cream Cheese. To go with Bagel and Lox(ley), and since she likes to sleep with or on Bagel. I’m being convinced. She’s enamored with the chickens, who are so much bigger than she is, though they’re indifferent. She’s sweet and cuddly and, most importantly, I can lift and maneuver her with my bad wrist and (opposite) bad shoulder.
Twenty-three years ago today, I moved to Maryland to live with Uncle Walter.
He flew down to Florida to see me on Wednesday the 31st, and on Sunday, January 4th, he asked me to take a chance on him. I called and quit my jobs, and we packed up my Geo Metro hatchback with my stuff. I would have brought more, but UW thought his buck and paring knives were an adequate knife set. They were not.
On January 5th, we stopped to see the man whose wedding we met at. It was his birthday (Happy Birthday!). Since he didn’t know UW was visiting, or that we were leaving that night, it was quite a surprise.
We said goodbyes and drove the night through. UW spent the time saying “Mom and Dad are going to kill me, Mom and Dad are going to kill me,” over and over. For the entire 16 hour drive.
Twenty-three years ago today, Uncle Walter flew down to see me after our initial meeting on December 11th. Not being familiar with Florida geography, UW flew into Orlando airport, a 4 ½ hour drive from Tallahassee, and I had to be there for his 9 am flight. I had just worked a 12 hour shift, getting off work at 1 am. I was EXHAUSTED.
I spent the few hours after arriving writing out Christmas cards that never got mailed. Eventually I wandered into the airport, which was HUGE. I was dragging an afghan my grandmother had crocheted for me, and fell asleep on a bench. In the terminal. Not at the gate where he was arriving (which you could go to pre-9/11). He had to page me. Twice.
I wore the outfit I had on the day we met: some cut off denim shorts and a Phantom of the Opera t-shirt. I was SO afraid I wouldn’t recognize him. But there he was! I handed him my huge-ass mass of keys and told him he was driving.
And here we are. Two (grown and nearly grown) kids, a mortgage, and twenty happy years of marriage later.
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