Um.............WHERE?
I was having a conversation with my aunt this evening and she asked about where the cream had to be applied. I figured that if she was wondering, maybe some of you were, too. I never thought to provide this information in the previous post.
Well, either way---------whether you were wondering or not-------I feel better, knowing that at least now you DO KNOW that I'm not applying it THERE everyday.
Okay, you men, now you can once again tell me that this is "way to much information."
On to other things.
Soccer season is officially over here for the PC Soccer Association. One of the girls still has a classic tournament coming up, but no more Saturday games for the little kiddies. It has been so strange as the weather during Fall soccer is normally at least crisp. It was downright (is that a hillbilly term?) hot today.
Speaking of hillbilly-------the kids and I were discussing heritage the other day. I explained that they were 1/4 Mexican because their grandmother (hubbies mom) is Mexican. They asked what heritage they got from me and my answer was "hillbilly." Of course, after the laughs, I told them about my great-grandparents being French from my grandmother's side and German from my grandfather's side. These are my mother's relatives. Now, my father's relatives come from the hills of Missouri and I have always called them HillBillies, not in a rude fashion, but just in a teasing sort of way. They fry tators. Actually, they fry almost everything. The food is good, don't get me wrong. VERY GOOD!! They have names (honest to pete) like Billy Ray, Billy Howard, Aint (instead of Aunt) Virdilla, etc. I kid you not. All the kids have nicknames in my father's family, except one.
Orville was always called Hot Shot. Fred was always called Bullet. EC was Pistol. Roy was just Roy. Why he never received a nickname is a mystery, I guess. How fortunate that I was just always Lisa. I could have been named something MUCH worse, this I know. Thanks to my mother for having no HillBilly in HER blood. HA! My grandfather always has his shirt unbuttoned, showing his chest and belly. This is the only man that would look good this way. This is only because that's how I've always known him. His sons walk around like this, too. They don't look quite as good. I have a cousin who gets in trouble just so he can have three good meals a day and a place to stay, rent free, in jail. I love these people with all my heart. They don't fit my norms or most of societies norms, but they are a part of me and I love them very much. I talk to my grandmother about once a week. Grandpa always hollers from the other room that, "Grandpa loves you, Lise."