Tags: family

greeting, worm

I am not polite enough for this heritage!

When I was back sort-of-home (city of which hometown was/is a suburb, basically? or, well, another suburb of the same city? the lines are a bit hard to completely figure out sometimes) for my grandfather's funeral last Fall, I got to catch up a bit with a cousin of some degree, something removed... it's a bit hard to keep track of my paternal family, frankly, because my grandparents had many, many siblings (which means there are A LOT of cousins) and my grandfather was so much younger than his siblings that he basically grew up with his own nieces and nephews, and, yeah, lots of people, I can't really ever keep any of them straight.

My cousin-of-whatever-degree, who my sister and I knew growing up, has been working on this BIG GIANT FAMILY TREE/REUNION plan, for that side of the family (it's my grandmother's paternal family). Which means that there is a family reunion next Summer; no idea if I will make it or not, or if anybody else from the immediate family will go.

The more interesting thing is that there's a bunch of family tree stuff up on line, and I've been poking around at it. It was, oddly, the branch of the family I knew the least about; I mean, I know way more about the German, English, and Irish of my mom's family (the ancestor who was in the Civil War... um.... not on the side I mention where I am currently living..errr...), and the English and Dutch (I think?) and possibly French Canadian on my paternal grandfather's side, and the Finnish on my grandmother's side... but the other part of my grandmother's side, I did not know anything about. Now I do!

Apparently, originally, that line came over from England (which pretty much puts English as the thing this particular Ami-style mutt consists of most ;-) ).

And... for nigh-close to a hundred years, we were pretty much a line of Canadian lighthouse keepers.

Well, huh.
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Medieval Lady

Familial Weather

... so, this weekend, the odds are pretty good that either myself (SC), my sister (MA), or our mother (VA) are going to be right in the path of a hurricane named for our maternal grandmother.


(Dad is, at the moment, safely on the Gulf Coast, away for now from things like, say, earthquakes and mother-in-law-named major storms)
greeting, worm

Meet Virginia

Up visiting the parents for the weekend; arrived safely late last night (had planned based on having a half-day yesterday...not realizing at the time that the half-day had been inexplicably scheduled for the afternoon.

Perfectly reasonable drive; slept well, although odd to not have to account for feline location/attention-and-food emergencies.

This morning, Mom and I went to a pick-your-own strawberries place, and did, in fact, return with a prodigious quantity of same. Shall be bringing a bunch back with me on Sunday (be warned, O Roommate!), mostly in a sliced-and-frozen state.

Took advantage of the hot tub (in fact, came home, showered, and THEN went to soak... quasi-furo!)

Much of the afternoon will doubtless be devoted to strawberry prep. Oh, and vampires.*

May also nap... feel like I could about fall over. *thunk*

*Course prep, about which I shall doubtless say more anon.
Medieval Lady

Whatever the weather, we'll weather the weather...

Hmmm..... well, after a good conference and so on, and a very nice visit to the sister (including meeting the baby!), my travel plans have been derailed by the weather down southwards.

The funny thing, of course, is that a) the weather up here is actually perfectly fine, and b) the bad weather might or might not have affected travel through here. Hard to say.

Fortunately, the sister and co. are happy to have me around for another day (well, the cats are indifferent, and I'm not sure about the baby... but generally speaking, there is happiness). And I get to have more time to get some work done; also not a bad thing.

Here's hoping I don't get halfway tomorrow and then get stuck in the airport....

ETA: And now the estimated departure date is Tuesday, due to another set of cancellations (which, looking at Monday's weather, was not exactly a shock). We'll see how it goes; Delta kept trying to put me on flights on Wednesday (including their first suggestion, which was that I leave the scheduled time tomorrow and then have a forty-two hour and twenty-three minute layover in Atlanta), and I'm not sure if that's because they anticipate possible cancellations or because the schedule-bot just needed to be poked a bit (see above re: forty-two hours...).

ETA2: Three for three....Delta has now rescheduled me for Wednesday. Which means that I will actually be missing class, as opposed to "missing a day the university cancelled anyway due to bad weather." Oh, and did I mention that Wednesday's weather for Boston is going to involve a significant storm and the likely accumulation of over a foot of snow? *headdesk*
Medieval Lady

Hack. Cough. Ack. Bleah.


And thus we have the second holiday in a row where I proceed to get sick immediately before or after. Darn colds.

In addition to that, the Incoming Weather meant that Christmas morning began with Mom saying, "Right! Everybody! We are going to be LEAVING TODAY!!! There will be presents and Christmas dinner and then we are ON THE ROAD!!"

She and Dad had been watching the Weather Channel since Thursday or Friday, concerned about the upcoming Snowpocalypse. They were particularly concerned because they were going to be heading into an area which was supposed to get a lot of snow, and I was heading into an area which might get some snow that stuck, but which would definitely get flurries and rain and so on... and which was twice as far away.

It was actually the right decision-- Dad's sent pictures of the snow they got. Not fun to drive through. And, well, I did have an afternoon of staring out at flurries (no sticking). Not to mention the fact that I am currently Semi-Ded of Cold, and it was nice to just sleep in and stagger downstairs to get myself some chicken soup. Plus-- most importantly, thank you very much-- it meant that the cats had a person back around to cater to their every whim look after them and make sure that they hadn't destroyed the apartment .
kidding, Ryuuki

Buh... wait, what?

This is apparently the week of movie-related "Huh?"

Seriously; it's the one week where my folks and I get together, relax, watch movies of an evening. And so far, this year? Wackiness abounds.

First, of course, there was the "Rocks Kinda Lay There, Everyone Dies" movie. Then Mom picked "The Proposal," which was actually kind of cute-- "love and a bit with a dog"-style romcom. Amusing gender inversion of the "boss forces secretary into marriage" trope seen in practically every other Harlequin Presents novel of the 1980s, and there's nothing wrong with that (nothing wrong with the original formula, either, when done well-- and by "well" I mean when the heroine isn't TSTL and the hero doesn't completely have his head stuck up his... um... sense of entitlement and virgin/whore complex).

Then there was something else I will blog about later, because it deserves a post of its very, very own. And I re-watched "Lara Croft: Tomb Raider," because I wanted something stupid where stuff blows up real good... except that there was more stupid and fewer explosions than I had remembered, and it was thus disappointing on both levels(and made me want to watch "The Myth," which is pretty much unabashed Jackie Chan silliness and flashbacks to Ancient China).

And then the next two films. Dad picked the most recent "Star Trek"; Mom picked a romcom called "Then She Found Me." And... um.... well.....Collapse )

Polish your sink for Jesus!

About a week and a half ago, when I was talking with my mother, she mentioned that a friend of hers had been visiting, and had brought this great book with useful tips for cleaning and keeping the house clean and so on.

Mom: I bought a copy for myself, and I bought you a copy for you for your birthday! It's got some very useful stuff.
Me: Ok...
Mom: Just... don't read the introduction or the acknowledgements, they're a bit... well, anyway, it's got some good and useful stuff.
Me: Okaaaay....

d_ragondaughter: This isn't that crazy lady with the sink-polishing and the blue fairy wings, is it?
Me: I... don't know?

The book arrived this week, and it is, indeed, the crazy lady with the sink-polishing and the shoe-wearing and the blue fairy wings. And. Um. Yes. A system. For cleaning. Which actually DOES have useful advice and a good perspective on doing a bit at a time, not getting overwhelmed, and not getting caught up in the idea that things have to be "perfect." Except...

d_ragondaughter: So, how is it?

Me: Erm. Full of useful cleaning tips, and hetero-normative married-people Judeo-Christianity?

Seriously; in the vacation chapter, on the packing list, under entertainment... the first item is "Book (Bible, fiction, etc.)" And God makes constant inspirational and life-steering appearances as this woman engages in daily routines cleaning blessing (yes, really) her home. And, aside from ONE chapter where the author kind of waves at the fact that a husband might also want to clean and inspire his wife, the whole book is SO oriented towards women who are (of course) married and (of course) have children and who want to take responsibility for making their home a happy, loving, clean, inspiring place that will make their family happy that it's really, really incredibly off-putting for somebody who isn't married, isn't planning on being married, and doesn't want to have children (and, yes, I realize that I'm coming at this from the perspective of somebody who works with both religion and gender issues, and thus is very sensitve to them....).*

Now d_ragondaughter, having spent the past ten minutes in hysterics over the intro/acknowledgements (Her: HA HA HA! *reads outloud* HA HA!; Me: I TOLD you not to read those bits), is now realizing why I also told her not to read the True Letters from Fans.

*There is one-- ONE-- reference to being single (and, presumably, still female)... in the section about cleaning the bedroom, the author waxes rhapsodic about the bedroom being the heart of the home... because it is where your children were conceived and where you love your husband... and, oh yes, if you're single, it's where you curl up at night with a good book before going to sleep. *headdesk*
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Medieval Lady

Ack! Halp! Flaaaaail!

So, yesterday, I finally buckled down and booked the moving truck (for the moving), and was poking at people to actually load and unload and trying to figure out number of people, number of hours, etc., etc.

And then, after a grocery-store run ("EEE! TRADER JOE'S IS DOING INVENTORY! GRAB THE EMPTY BOXES! GRAB THE EMPTY BOXES!!"), I came home to an e-mail and some urgent messages from the 'rents. Who I then called.

Fortunately, Mom had put in a moving-related subject line, so I knew it wasn't anything wrong with the nephlet. Except then I was worried about the move.

And, indeed, it turned out that the company has asked Dad to go back to Mobile again, asap, for an unspecified but probably pretty significant amount of time to deal with the massive ongoing clusterfuck set of problems he's been down there to try to fix repeatedly over the past several months. Which means that first of all, Mom and Dad are driving up to Boston to see the baby this weekend (!), and second of all that Dad asked if there was an alternative to his plan of driving the rental truck for the move... he emphasized that if there was not an alternative, he would schedule Mobile around it, but... yeah; I'm not going to ask him to do that, and it was pretty clear that it was going to be difficult-to-impossible. He specifically wondered if I could leave the other arrangements as-is and hire a driver, and in fact later suggested via e-mail that one of the company drivers could be engaged to do the driving (I suspect that his condition for the immediate deployment to Mobile is that the company will do whatever needs doing re: the move, to make sure I am not left in the lurch... or having to, you know, drive a 24' truck on my own for 300+ miles).

Thereupon followed some serious number-crunching on my part (have I mentioned that the entire process of moving is wretched and annoying and involves talking to too many strangers who want to sell me things?). And it turned out that once you hit a certain amount of "I'm hiring people to load the truck, and I'm hiring the truck, and I'm paying for gas, and I'm hiring somebody to drive the truck, and I'm hiring people to unload the truck,".... yeah, it makes more sense and is (at least in theory) WAY LESS STRESSFUL to just hire a full-service moving company.

Which, again, means talking to too many strangers who want to sell me things. But, fortunately, I had been getting full-service quotes earlier, and had a rough idea of how that would go. I got an updated "now with way more boxes" quote from somebody I had worked with before, and a second quote from a new person, and then had to figure out what to do... because the first quote was higher, but based on what I think is a more realistic estimate of the weight involved (normal people move boxes full of, say, lampshades, and blankets, and glasses.... I have boxes of books. And more books. And then some boxes of books). And the one thing I really want to avoid is having to suddenly cough up more money at the last minute in order to get my stuff-- I mean, there aren't supposed to be penalties, other than "pay this much more per pound," but I still feel more comfortable going with a larger original estimate (there will be a refund if it turns out to be less weight).

And, if it goes over the amount that the new job is reimbursing me for (which, with a full-service move, I fully expect it to), then the company will chip in (see above re, conditions for an immediate heading to Mobile to fix things, disrupting all previous plans). This is, needless to say, a Great Relief.

Right. Well. Hope that this all works out? Now that there are actual plans and schedules and numbers and all of that, and the main thing is to actually get all of this stuff into boxes. *ackity-packity flail...*
Medieval Lady

Back again!

Just a quick post to let folks know that Intrepid Roommate and I are back home from... um... future home? At any rate, think continued good thoughts re: apartment; we have filled out an application (well, written information down for the property manager.... who is either rather harried and trying to handle renting this apartment at the last minute after her business partner had to go out of the country unexpectedly, OR who is running some kind of international ninja identity theft ring based around clever use of notebook paper, a spare key, and a "for rent" sign....), and are waiting to hear back.

I, true to form, am panicking about the "calling to get references" part of this process, mostly because I'm worried that it will cause our current landfolks to, err, start acting stringent questions about the actual current number of felines in residence...(because being completely upfront about said felines when searching for a new place caused untold complications which we had to spend a lot of time working around and I've been merrily extrapolating backwards) and also because I have these visions of the new potential apartment turning us down flat and the current place flipping out and reporting us as bad tenants to any future people asking and evicting us and forcibly removing the cats and who knows what else. *panicflail* At any rate, it's a situation where I'm going to be all jittery until things are resolved, which annoys me.

In more important news (and probably the other reason I'm all jittery/stressed), I now have a tiny nephew! Mother and baby are doing well; baby names still being decided on (they were just starting to work out lists of names, and had gotten farther along with names for girls). Told sibling that I was now definitely not going to get that blanket finished before the baby's arrival.

Right; off to try to get some sleep.....lots of packing to get a handle on.