I remember my first boyfriend, upon hearing my threat to ‘just chop it all off’, wrote me a letter pleading with me not to cut it. He went on to tell me all about how it was wild and beautiful, just like me. Over-exaggerated adolescent romanticism aside, he was right about the fact that it is, very much, a part of who I am (though I still rather resent the upkeep…).
Cousins- Between them my parents have 9 siblings, each of which grew up to marry and have at least two children a piece, providing me with a wealth of cousins! (30 to be exact) Our large and lively family had a big impact on me growing up, and probably goes far to explain my current love of large families. Since I’ve not been able to go and visit them, I really find myself longing for the days of sitting around, eating, laughing and talk, talk, talking. Talking about who’s getting married and who’s pregnant, and how best to tame our curls (yes, it’s a strong family trait), or finally rid ourselves of them for good! (I have been known to excuse myself from these conversations on the grounds that I have made peace with my curls, see above, and do not wish to have any little inklings of dissatisfaction planted in the fertile ground of my somewhat addled mind.)
Ideally, this post would be accompanied by a picture of my cousin Jessica and myself (born 13 days apart), circa 1981, propped up on a quilt in the yard, while wearing coordinating gingham dresses (one pink and one blue). Since that photo is not currently available to me, I’ll have to settle for this poorly scanned photo of me introducing little Iain to Jess’s brand new baby daughter. If you are reading this Jess (the one person I ever allowed to actual iron my hair…and singe the tips!), I love you and miss you terribly!
I mourn for the fact that my own children are rather lacking in the cousins department. They have three cousins, from Steve’s older brother’s first marriage. All of whom are nearly as old as I am, and none of whom they actually know. The closest thing they have to the bounty of peers that I grew up with are the children of my own cousins, of which there are many. It makes me sad that they are not able to grow-up together (we live out of state and sickness has prevented us from traveling).
Cat-This is my beloved cat, who happens to be named Constance, making her a very suitable topic for the letter C. I rescued her from a shelter, shortly after moving into my first apartment. She has a very sweet disposition and incredibly soft (more like a rabbit then a cat). When I was pregnant with Iain, at night she would curl herself up in the area just above my belly. Once he was born she made her home somewhere near his feet. Sweet girl.
I miss her as well. She is still living down at the own house. Once the addition is done, we will finally have room for a liter box and at that point we will be able to be reunited again, once and for all. For the time being, it’s still just a quick pat, now and again, when I go down to switch over the laundry or grab some food.
I’m a firm believer in the fact that home becomes every-so-much homier when there are kittens about. Unfortunately, my mother is terribly allergic to cats and so, when my sweet old girl does leave us, we will have to remain without feline companionship. Quite a shame.