Having a family is like having a bowling alley installed in your brain. --Martin Mull
When your sister has not one but two children born at Christmas time, you are guaranteed not one but two chaotic celebrations.
Die Familie und Geburtstags
You would think that because we're of German descent (first gen, actually), our family get-togethers would be calm, sober and stuffy.
Not bloody likely. It was Nick and Alex's joint birthday party yesterday. Noise abounded.
I rarely devote a blog entry to my family. In fact, I don't believe I have ever done so. However, today I'm breaking that rule and writing exclusively about them.
I have a brother, Rich, and my sister Karen, who occasionally comments here. Rich is 51, Karen is possibly 43; however, her chronological age versus her emotional age is still up for debate. I'm the oldest.
Corinne and Rich
I have two girls, Corinne and Jenn. My sister has two boys, Alex and Nicholas. Corinne and Jenn are 33 and 36; Alex and Nick are 9 and 12. And they're first cousins. Liz is technically the boys' second cousin but we don't confuse the issue. Cousins are cousins.
Nick and the scary albino rabbit Lucky
And then of course, there's my mother, who has graced the pages of this blog frequently enough.
What would a family get-together be without Mom and Mar knitting? (My nephew Nick has decided that for Christmas he will buy me a knitting needle. We do not know why he wishes to purchase only one. Perhaps his grandmother will get the other.)
My mother is knitting a vest from the Wensleydale I spun for her last Christmas. She's finally gotten around to it. And I supplied the pattern, which, against my better judgement, included a cable pattern that she insisted upon having.
As I suspected, the cable doesn't show up well against the yarn. But she's pleased with it so what the fuck.
Christmas is not an emotionally easy holiday for me. It's not an easy holiday for many people who've lost loved ones. Off the top of my head I can think of at least three friends who are in the same boat. However, it gets immediately easier when I spend an hour or so with my grandchild helping her to decorate herself like a Christmas tree so I can take a picture for her to use as a Christmas card.
When I fool around with Liz, all the bad things go away.
You'd knit this kid a Rasta hoodie, wouldn't you?
Thanks for suffering my maudlin family entry. But they are some rare and handy people and I love them dearly.