Auntie commented on my last post about my dad that she was glad "we found each other" – presumably referring to my cousins who have also been reading and commenting on some of my blog posts, as I've been commenting on some of theirs. Yes, Auntie, I'm glad we found each other too. I think, in a way, that's probably part of my deep-down reason for why I decided to blog in the first place, even though I didn't rush out and tell everyone in the universe that I was doing it. I actually didn't mention it to many people at all for a long time, although I've been doing it for more than two years, and though I had a couple of different blogs before that. The earlier blogs were on my web site, and one of them was more of a "selling things" blog, and I took it down because I got tired of doing it. This one, which owes its existence to RunSteve, is just a "whatever" blog that contains spill-over from the journal I've been keeping since I was little.
Sometimes, the spill-over includes Amazon, but far more frequently, the spill-over includes my dad or something else from my life. And that's just the way I like it. In the whole scheme of things Amazon is nothing and Daddy and Auntie and DH and my dog and my flowers, well they're pretty much the sum total.
So, I reckon I will go on writing about stupid things like reading Fried Green Tomatoes yesterday and being overcome by a longing for a Nehi grape soda that was so strong that I practically begged DH to get me one when he was out running errands. He got me a grape soda, but it wasn't Nehi; it was some nasty Yankee Jolly Rancher thing that wasn't nearly as good. Even so, I dreamed about walking down to the Tull store for banana popsicles with Cousin CH. We loved to do this and, for some unknown reason, we never wanted to wear shoes. I can still remember how the tar would bubble up and burn your feet if the gravel on the side of the road was too sharp and you took a side step onto the black top.
(The Tull road in late June. It's so hot then, you think you really can imagine the fires of hell)
The store was nothing more than a shack by the side of the road. The freezer with the popsicles was a little low case with a sliding glass top. The inside was coated with a good 4 inches of ice. Oh, but it felt so fine after slogging down that burning pitch road to stick your arm into the case to retrieve your banana prize!
(The Tull store in the late 1940s. It looked much the same as I remember it in the late 60s & early 70s)
We had to eat them fast, before they melted, so for three quarters of the way back down the burning pitch road we had nothing to look forward to but the fan in the cool shady bedroom at the other end of the journey. Once we were there, we'd get a glass of iced tea and lie on the wood floor in front of the fan until we recovered enough to play dress up in our mothers' old homecoming dresses.
That's a different cousin from the ones who have been reading and commenting on my blog, although I'd like to hear from her too. But that's the thing. When my dad died, since I'm an only child and the rest of my family lived so far from me, it seemed as if I had lost not just him, but that whole side of my family. My grandparents really came through for me then – just as they did for all of my life. I'm a lot older than my cousins, and we've never lived near each other, nor spent enough time together to know each other well, but we must have something in common besides a common last name since we are all blogging. Right?
Or maybe not. But I still think it's cool.
John (Caviar & Dirt)
Janna, John's Wife (Rainbow Dull)
Sherry & Aaron (Adoption Journey)
And me, of course, but you're here already
This photo is of me and my grandparents and my dad's little brother (my blogging cousins' dad). It was taken circa 1969. My grandmother was doing some serious stylin' with those glasses!