I have plenty of blog topics that pop into my head at odd times but when I sit down to write I find I can’t recall what they were – apparently I need to start texting them to myself or at least tracking them somehow (though I fear this might make me appear a little neurotic, but I’m sharing it with you here so you know I’m not neurotic, just forgetful).
My Australia husband, who should never be too hot and loves hot weather, asked me this morning if I wasn’t too warm with the cardigan I was wearing. It was only 59 degrees out at the time, and he was too warm in shorts and a t-shirt. Apparently this means he’s finally acclimated to cooler Michigan weather and has become a wimp like the rest of us Michiganders. This paragraph has nothing to do with anything but I thought about blogging it this morning so I’m following through.
Also apropos of nothing, a friend texted me laughing (you can totally laugh in a text, even if the other person can’t hear it – don’t argue with me) because she knew the mullet man in the photo from this post. She used to go to church with him and said he is a very nice guy and that car is his summer car (and that he has been rocking the mullet for a while). I text-laughed back at her – too funny.
When all else fails for a blog topic, I go to the photos… seeing if I can find a real winner to share with you. And winner, winner chicken dinner. Here’s one with my grandmas during a visit to Turkeyville (which should make that last statement: winner, winner turkey dinner, but whatever).
My mom’s mother, Grandma DeJongh, is in the middle and my dad’s mother, Grandma Arlene is on the right. Is it strange that I used a last name for one grandma and a first name for the other? Grandma DeJongh’s first name was Magdalena, which was perhaps too hard to say? When we were pregnant, I kind of wanted to use the name Magdalena for a girl and call her Maggie [Simon did not want to, Maggie he was totally fine with but Magdalena was a bit much for him].
I just noticed Grandma DeJongh’s left hand and how her middle finger is slightly pulled up. She often sat like that with her hand resting but her middle finger up and it used to make me giggle to think of my proper grandmother flipping off the world. My Uncle Chet also holds his hands like this. Simon makes fun of me because when I’m driving, I often rest my right hand on my leg with the wrist turn inward and palm up and it drives him nuts so he has to reach over and flip my hand so it is palm down. Awkward hand positioning is hereditary I guess is what we can learn from this.
Despite all the quirks and 80s weirdness, I love this photo. Love that I got to hang out with both my grandmas so much when I was growing up – I think we saw them both weekly, though typically more often than that – makes up a little for not knowing my grandpas (the grandpa who was living when I was born, Grandpa DeJongh, died when I was three and I have one memory of him – playing restaurant at their house and bringing him endless servings of food).