It has been a busy time here on the Coast of Illinois.
I would like to claim that all the hub-bub is what has kept me from writing the remainder of my Caribbean adventure. I have tried to also blame the weather, the time change, the fact that I am exercising again. But honestly, it is my lack of discipline.
And it is also all the hub-bub.
You see, this year, this weekend – Pi Weekend – is a biggie around here.
My little sister is getting married!
My baby brother is celebrating a birthday!
I imagine most of you have figured out that makes me the oldest. By five and ten years respectively.
As a five year old, I was foolishly excited to get a baby sister. I recall the awesome tiny jelly packets Dad brought home to me from the hospital. And the annoyance that the ball of blankets they brought home was completely unable to hold a Barbie.
Five years later, my excitement to have a baby brother was tempered by experience and the fact that the tiny ball of blankets our parents again brought home was born two months early and looked more like a monkey than any baby I had seen.
But there were those awesome jelly packets.
I must admit, never felt that super close Marcia/Jan Brady bond to either sibling.
My sister and I shared a room until I got married so there is that geographical closeness. And we played a lot of games with our little brother. Games like 'Scare that Karl' where we would lie in bed and bet how many of our own screams it would take to make our poor brother scream in return. We went on countless family vacations, staying in a pop-up camper where you can't help but know one another intimately.
But we never really confided in one another.
Until we were grown-ups.
My brother graduated college and moved himself, alone, to New York City in order to pursue a musical career. There were phone calls and postcards and thanks to Karl and his apartment in Queens, I got to fulfill my dream of visiting the Big Apple. And although I have always loved writing, it was Karl's advice – 'just write' – which nagged at me for another five years before I finally began putting my random, ridiculous thoughts out into the world.
It was about that time that my sister, back here on the Coast, voiced a desire to become involved in a writing group I belonged to. This mutual desire to entertain ourselves and others brought us close.
My brother and his family now live in Berlin, Germany. He is a jazz musician.
Which brings to mind the old joke:
What's the difference between a jazz musician and a pepperoni pizza?
A pepperoni pizza can feed a family of four.
He is one of those rare people who has pursued and maintained his dream. He is a working musician playing jazz guitar and recording for a variety of artists. He writes and sings his own songs and his work has been nominated for numerous awards.
Karl, you are the pepperoni pizza of jazz!
And this weekend is his birthday. Love you brother!
My sister is a bona fide scientist. Her work in pulmonary research has been published through the lab in which she works and makes me feel really stupid just trying to pronounce the titles of those papers. For example:
She has raised an amazing son. She writes beautiful poetry and crochets like a crazy person.
On Pi day she is marrying an equally annoyingly smart guy who builds incredibly detailed boats and as best as I can tell, works as a spy. They are a perfect match.
Congratulations sister. Love you too!
|Bubby, me and JenJen. I know. Too adorable.|
And thus concludes the nepotism portion of the blog. The sun is once again shining here on the Coast of Illinois. There are tiny green leaves sprouting from the earth and my basement palm tree is itching to move outside.
Tales of the Caribbean, here I come.....