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Hello. My name is Roxanne. I have a sister. Her name is Suzanne. No lie. This caused all sorts of confused name calling from other members of our family, especially our Granny who sometimes just went through the whole list of grandkids (even the ones that lived 12 hours away) to save time. LisaLynnWarrenBrianSuzanneRoxanneHal all in one big breath knowing that whichever one was closest (normally SuzanneRoxanneHal) would come running. My brother and I called her, and still to this day call her Sissy unless we are in a large store trying to get her attention, or we are mad at her. Then we call her Suzanne.
My sister is 5 years older than me and 6 years older than my brother. She is, collectively, 11 years older and 14 inches shorter than we are. My brother is about 5′11″. I am 5′7″. My sister is 5′2″ on a good day. We are a backward set of stairs. Her running joke is that when you line us all up, you can tell who has the biggest brain by who is the shortest. Obviously it’s her since she’s being held down by the massiveness of it. She leaves others to draw their own conclusion about our brother. (Love ya, Hal.) Her having the biggest brain isn’t too far from the truth. She graduated valedictorian of her class and went on to chiropractic college. She has a practice which is nowhere near any of you (sorry) or me (really sorry), and she is an EXCELLENT and knowledgeable DC (doctor of chiropractic.)
Today is my sister’s birthday. Again, like having a sibling with whom I shared birthday cakes most years, I thought someone having their birthday on New Year’s Eve was common place. Sissy has a birthday on the cusp of every new year, and it suits her beautifully. Lots of excitement and loud booming, crackling, fireworks. That goes along with all the crackling bones she adjusts and her firecracker personality. She has a loud laugh and a loud voice and a loud personality.Those things we have in common–the rest. . .not so much.
She was juuuuuuuuust old enough to always be one step ahead of me. She was in jr. high when I was in elementary. I had just gotten into Jr. High when she graduated and went on to college. I was 12 going on 22 and always wanted to do what she did. I wanted to tagalong. And I dealt her lots of grief and misery over the years she was at home with us. I have lots of memories of her exacting justice as the matriarch of the siblings, but the one we laugh over the most is the Libby Cherry Incident of ‘80.
One summer’s day, my sister’s friend, Libby Cherry was visiting. My parents do not have central air even now. We grew up with an attic fan–and to be cool you had to have your bedroom window AND door open. The ENTIRETY of Libby’s visit, my sister’s door was closed AND locked. Being nosy and a younger sister, I spent most of my time trying to get into her bedroom or standing outside the door with my ear to the sliver of space at the threshold trying to hear what they were talking about in there. It must’ve been something really, really good to risk death by sweating in the Louisiana heat. My brother–who was also interested in the secret conclave but not nearly so interested that he was willing to risk life and limb, dared me to go and hide in Sissy’s closet. Which I DID when she and Libby took a break to get a snack. Problem was that they were five years older than me, and once I got in the closet, I couldn’t understand a single word they were saying. . .they picked up in the middle of the conversation and kept using pronouns.
Eventually I got bored, but there was no escape, so I, in my 10 year old wisdom, decided to entertain myself with whatever was available inside my sister’s closet. What I managed to find was a wire clothes hanger. My parents have those long, narrow closets with the wooden louver doors. Shortly after taking hold of the clothes hanger, I also decided that running it up and down the louvers was a good way to bide my time until they finished their chat. Needless to say, I was discovered instantly. My sister literally ripped the closet door off the track, then picked me up (I was about as tall as she was at that point) and THREW me out of her room into the hallway. We did not have carpet. Just tile over concrete. Then she was mad, because I had snuck into her room AND she had to fix the closet door before Momma got home.
My sister packs a mighty wallop for someone so small in stature. And I NEVER hid in her closet, or anyone else’s for that matter, again.
Other than our general fill-a-room-with-noise-and-presence quality, we aren’t much alike. There is a picture of the three of us when we were young. She is holding a dog that is licking her in the face and SMILING about it, and I am holding a purse. That pretty much sums us up. You could have knocked me over with a feather the first time I saw her wearing makeup. I think she about 28 or 29. She loved rock tumblers and cowboy boots and outer space. She was good in math and science and was always the oldest–the one in charge–the responsible one. The summer our Granny had her strokes, I cried when my sister had to leave to go back to school. Even though my parents and my aunt and lots of other family was there, I needed her there with me–with us.
So now I will tell you a secret–something my sister has never heard, ’cause I would never be able to get it out without crying, but something I hope and pray she knows. She’s one of my heroes. Always has been. She is confident, smart, friendly, tenacious, strong, passionate, funny, dependable, down-to-earth, straight-forward, larger than life. She has made her fair share of mistakes big and small. We have not chosen the same path. We have both made choices the other one would never make. We have disagreed on more than one topic. But she is my big sister and could still squash me like a bug if she chose to. And that’s fine by me. She is one of the people I know I can ALWAYS depend on–no matter what.
So, happy birthday, Sissy. Thanks for paving the way. Enjoy your birthday pizza. (Told you she was different!)
Pink is my very most favorite color–not just ANY old pink–nice shades of pink. No Pepto Bismol please. That being said, nothing makes me (visually) happier than blue and white dishes. Blue and white dishes. . .ahhhhhhh. . .
So look what I found today. . .this website
AND they have my set of dishes. . .Arden by Burleigh. . .of which I own a 12 piece set INCLUDING all the fancy schmancy pieces. It’s my “good china.” LOOK. . .
Isn’t that PRETTY?????
And guess what??!?!?!?!?!?! They have it in PINK!!!!!!!!!
This place is a WONDERLAND of blue and white and red and white and pink and white transfer ware. Saints preserve us. . .
(And to keep me from going TOTALLY all girly-girl on you, Thad is humming the “1812 Overture” whilst playing with Lugnutz and spinning around and around in his sister’s hot pink twirly chair. Not. even. kidding. This is to keep me grounded, I’m sure.)
So I’ve been procrastinating. . .and my children think my fingers are permanently attached to this keyboard. . .but here are some things I found that I liked.
This is someones “photo” for their blog–totally cracked me up.
And this is a quote someone put on their ABC meme thing. . .I liked it. . .
“The Universe is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.” – Eden Phillpotts
That’s all I got. . .and it was totally selfish too, ’cause I wanted to put those two things somewhere I wouldn’t lose them. 
You know you really, truly love a little boy when you HAPPILY learn to turn this. . .
. . .into this. . .
. . .and yea verily you dug through masses of falling boxes of these to find just the right one to make his little heart warble with pleasure in hopes that one day when he finds that little girl you’ve been praying for and leaves you, he WILL come home occasionally and still think you are the bomb-diggity of mommies. . .
. . .and as he passed by the computer and saw “Lugnutz” (they NAME these things) on the screen being pasted into the blawg, he said all breathless and hopeful, “MOMMY!!!!! DID YOU ACTIVATE HIM ON THE COMPUTER??????” . . .
. . .well that’s wuv–twuuuuuuuuuuuu wuv.
Since I cannot go to see my family, I am drowning my sorrows in unlimited computer usage. And I was PERSONALLY tagged (okay–so not really personally. . .she kind of opened the door to let any old body in and I arrived at her website faster than anyone else) by Joshilyn Jackson to do this meme. . .and since there is no traveling going on, I give you the ABC’s of Me.
ABCs of Me(me)
A- Available or single? available only when my husband and children aren’t using me
B- Best Friend? very hard. . .Momma, Carolyn, Sarah, Stephanie
C- Cake or Pie? Cake–all kinds. . .with cream cheese frosting
D- Drink of Choice? diet Coke–from Sonic–extra ice
E- Essential Item? my favorite pillow
F- Favorite Color? pink
G- Gummi Bears or Worms? bears, but only orange
H- Hometown? Bastrop, Louisiana
I- Indulgence? chocolate covered Oreos–they came on the market when I was in college and too poor to buy them, but several of us would share a box
J- January or February? February–though I find these months to be the LOOOOONGEEEEEST of the year.
K- Kids and names? Victoria Lauren, Thaddaeus Walton–but we call him Thad
L- Life is incomplete without? My man–he thinks I am the best thing since sliced bread even when I don’t
M- Marriage Date? June 12, 1993, 3:00 p.m., in northeastern Louisiana. . .and the central air was out in the B&B where we had our reception. . .I found ONE working floor vent and stood myself in my poofy dress over the top of it so it was blowing straight up my skirt. . .and there I held court.
N- Number of Siblings? 1 sister, 5 years older, 1 brother a year and 4 days younger. . .my saint of a mother. . .I always took for granted that everyone had a sibling that close in age until I got old enough to realize what the time of conception turn around was to manage such a feat.
O- Oranges or apples? Oranges. . .big ole navel ones–but I have very fond memories of going to my great-uncle’s fillin’ station to pick out a huge red delicious apple from the blue egg crate containers they came in. The peel was so dark it was almost purple, and the display was always front and center when you walked into the store
P- Phobias/Fears? Snakes–especially snakes that are eating. . .and my science teacher husband owns 2 for his classroom–see “sliced bread” reference above. Loss of my children.
Q- Favorite Quote? “A strong woman is a woman who loves strongly and weeps strongly and is strongly terrified and has strong needs.” Marge Piercy
R- Reason to Smile? listening to my kids talk when they don’t know I can hear them
S- Season? Fall. There’s nothing like a cold wind blowing after the ghastly heat of southern summers–even though I get a bit pensive in the fall, I love the smells and the memories I have wrapped up in it
T- Tag three people! I tag you and the two others who came in behind you. Leave the whole thing in comments OR do it at your place and link. (Stole this one part and parcel from Joshilyn–erm. . .I mean, Ms. Jackson–got a little carried away since she tagged me and all.)
U- Unknown Fact About Me? I am a slob–a big ole slob–but I am a very organized slob so no one ever believes me when I say I’m a slob.
V- Vegetable you hate? beets–’nuff said
W- Worst habit? Procrastination. . .my favorite form of which is comfort eating while watching mindless t.v.
X- X-Rays you’ve had? Teeth, chest to determine if the lower part of my right lung that I could FEEL was not getting any oxygen was, in fact, either dead or just riddled with pneumonia–it was the latter
Y- Your favorite food? Shrimp
Z- Zodiac? Leo the lion
Well, contrary to what I thought, we will not be going to see my family. My mom called at 10:15 to tell me that my sister came down with the bug this afternoon and Daddy seemed to be coming down with it as of 10:14.
So we are staying here. It appears to be highly contagious, and it takes about a day to get it and that would put one or all of us coming down with it on the trip home. Not a pleasant thought since it’s a 7 1/2 hour trip.
I have cried my cry. I will have to listen to the children cry theirs in the morning. After 15 years of living in this city and making it home for Christmas, I suppose missing one isn’t so bad, but I am sad. However, since we don’t have to leave early tomorrow, Tony and I are going to watch a movie. He’s trying to make me feel better.
I have decided that the lady at the top of my page will be named Elise. I loved all of the suggestions–and interestingly enough they were all very similar. But in the end, I decided to name her after Jane Seymour’s character from “Somewhere in Time.” I remembered Christopher Reeves’ name since I have, “Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiichaaaaaaaaard!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” stuck in my head from when he saw the penny. But hers I had to go lookin’ for. And I found it on the “Somewhere in Time” website where you can get all manner of “Somewhere in Time” memorabilia should you so desire.
So, Elise it is.
We are leaving bright and early for my parent’s house and will be back on Saturday. . .
. . .as I saw Victoria rear her arm back then immediately heard her say, “Thad. Catch.”
To which I replied, “Do not throw that.”
And she, two feet away, pretended not to hear me and said, again, “Thad. Catch.”
And I said, “DO NOT THROW THAT. How clear was that?”
And she rightly said, “Pretty clear. . .can I toss it?”
And I said, with blood vessels bursting in my head and richocheting off the inside of my skull, “You may not do anything with that that is a synonym of throw, such as toss, fling, flick, hurl, etc.”
I am nothing if not a teacher.
All this while Thad chanted, “PILLOW FIGHT!!!!! PILLOW FIGHT!!!!! A pillow fight is when you take a pillow and you fight with it. You hit someone with a pillow and they hit you with a pillow and then it turns into a PILLOW FIGHT!!!!!!”
I have sent them outside.
“I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.” L.M. Montgomery
As I have written before, Thad has had some trouble in the language department. We aren’t worried but do plan to get him back into speech soon. He didn’t say much more than momma and daddy until we got him into speech at the age of two. He is making up for lost time, can say whatever he wants, and has a vocabulary to rival his sister’s. He just can’t always articulate it in a timely manner or with all of the sounds intact.
Victoria has never had any trouble. She said bird at nine months and hasn’t looked back. She runs verbal circles around the boy then ties a bow. But he has learned to deal. Case(s) in point:
Christmas eve they were playing together with some hand-me-down Star Wars toys a co-worker had sent to Thad. Victoria was offering possible organizational suggestions and “ideas” on how best to manage the set-up of said toys.
The following was heard from Thad:
“Sistuh, I keep of teh-wing you that Dawk Maduh is a bad guy, but you are all wike ‘Blah blah. Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah.’” (By the way, he has no trouble with the “l’s” in the word “blah.”)
Then, Christmas morning they took a break from their toys to play a computer game together. Thad had just come to me to open his Hershey Santa from his stocking for a mid-morning snack.
It was his turn to control the mouse when the following exchange took place:
Victoria: “THAD!!!!!!!! GO THERE!!!!!!!!!!! CLICK!!!!!!!!! CLICK!!!!!!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOOOOOOOIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNG?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?”
Thad: “Well, wight now I’m twyin’ to eat a choc-what baw.”
Yeah–I’d say the boy is holdin’ his own.
