Tag Archives: Madalynn

All the Kool Kids live Downtown.

    Oops, don’t mean to offend anyone.  Apparently though, if you celebrate early (meaningful) birthdays in, and/or come home from the hospital at birth to, an historic house that is mere blocks from the center of downtown, it will effect where you live when you are in your 20′s.  That’s right folks, all my adult children live downtown, which makes it official, I now reside in an empty nest.  All my chicks have their own roosts, urban as they can be.  Okay, so Hanny is in Bellingham, but her nice little old house is frighteningly close to downtown Bellingham.  We all know that The Son calls the beautiful heritage Tiffany Building home (so downtown he couldn’t get closer if he lived in City Hall) and now…….. Empress is the proud renter of a studio apartment in a 103 year old domicile just one block from the (practically) downtown Washington/Jefferson Street Park.  Yes, it’s true, we’ve found her (and of course Harley, the hospice foster dog) their own little home (a special shout-out to Roger for his help, not necessarily the speediest landlord/handyman ever, but certainly one of the funniest and most accommodating).  I was afraid it would be so much sadder.  But it was a gradual process, so I am adjusting fairly well.  I miss them all, every day – my attachment to them is ridiculous.  (Fortunately they are used to this.)  They also know that should any one of them ever need to stay here in the family home (for any length of time) beds are available and they are welcomed with open arms.  Whew!  What an adventure.  The pride is overwhelming.  (I take no credit for these amazing young adults.)  My kids are awesome!

 

 

Happy Birthday Mad Hatter, wherever you are. 

Missing in action.

Has anyone seen my niece?  We seem to have misplaced Miss Madalynn.  Should any body run across her, could you please have her phone home?

Bookends.

A day of both boys.  Elliott and I went to the mall today.  No school work, just buying things we needed, and eating of course.  Sort of accidentally saw his sister there, that was random and lovely.  Now my son is on his way over.  Pepper spray incident at the jail tonight, his clothes are unwearable.  He normally does his own wash at the beautiful historic building in which he dwells.  But he has to work tomorrow, again, and he is out of quarters, and I am up any way, and three more odd packages arrived for him today.  So really, why not?  A two-boy day, nice for a change.

Two in a row.

Yet another successful and accomplished day.  And this time with the benefit of a glorious lunar eclipse.  Which, by the magic of cellular telephonic devices, I got to share with my girls.  At one point I had one on the home phone and another sending me texts on the mobile unit, all at the same time.  It was lovely.

Embellishments.

Also called body modifications, or in the real world: tattoos, piercings, branding, scarring.  (I have two out of the four.)  And I have probably left something out.  Oh yeah, the thing where they put shapes under the skin, I don’t know what that’s called.  Here’s the reason I bring this up today, Elliott, my beautiful orphaned nephew, wants some holes poked in his skin.  He was thinking about his lip, he said it’s called a “snake bite” although that might not be correct.  He pointed at his mouth and said “here, and here.”  Ah, I got it, two rings on your bottom lip, with some space in between.  I told him that one of the girls at my little local market had this, it looked alright on her.  I spoke with his father, briefly when I could grab him, and he said that he had okayed an ear lobe.  Hmm, not nearly the same thing.  If my sister was alive, she would be all over this topic, and it wouldn’t be pretty.  I have four holes in one ear, one on the lobe of the other, with two hoops above, in the cartilage.  Nothing else pierced, but all appendages heavily inked.  So I am probably the first person he thought of to ask this of.  He has since spoken to his sister about it, and she volunteered to do it herself if he was too young for the piercing shop to sign off on it.  I jumped in, both feet, on both of them.  No amateur modifications allowed.  I am all for expressing ones self, but not at the risk of infection or permanent damage (and I don’t count the little scars or holes as damage when you take a piercing out, that just gives you character).  No, this is my rule: always go to a professional.  They have studied and they know what they are doing.  I first made this declaration when I found out people were selling their houses with out a real estate agent.  Why would you do this?  To save a few bucks?  Bad idea.  Call in the pros.  When your wiring goes hay-wire, you call an electrician, when the pipes are flooding the house, you call a plumber, same with poking holes in your face.  (We have excellent piercing shops here in Eugene, I recommend High Priestess highly.)  You find the one that’s right for you and you pay them what they are worth, it’s that simple.  Don’t take the risk of doing stuff yourself that someone else knows so much more about.  It’s like buying local.  Vote with your dollar.  So easy.  Why don’t more folks listen to me?  I know some shit.