It's been a hard week in the USA, and I'm stretching to find good things to note. Here goes
I lined up the felt bunny brigade on the mantel for an Easter display, made these several years ago, hand stitched and embroidered differently on each side
used frozen strawberries but they had a wonderful flavor this time, big fluffy tasty
also tried a cumbrian gingerbread that was awful except for the fresh ginger flavor, so no link
I made a cool project for the prompt button up at project quilting where you get a prompt and must make something quilted finishing in one week. The details and photos will be in Saturday's creativity post but this fabric was used:
I played around with ideas til one was intriguing enough to make me finish it!
just because
I like the shimmery polish on my nails this week,
The citrus salad I made this week is so good, fresh grapefruit oranges cherries and bananas.
Books
The latest book by Rhys Bowen came available finally and I'm rushing to finish the one before so I can start. An audio book by Jodi Picoult that I hadn't finished before it was snatched up, came back so I finished it.
fascinating... did Amelia Bassano ghost write Shakespeare's plays and sonnets? well.... listen to the author's research notes at the end and it makes sense. She was a woman who believed in women's rights in the 1500's and we are still fighting for women's rights in 2025 in the new regime.
library news
I love libraries even virtual ones. Ours in the Denver area are exceptional. We have access to a lot of E Books and audio books through them. Of course the latest abomination edict from the current regime is defunding libraries along with all that makes life richer for we common folk.
Despite the foot injuries, I was able to put on a sandal and walk the back yard some this week.
(remember y'all I'm reaching for something good here)
I've loved watching the Eagle cam out of Big Bear CA this week, loved seeing three little bowling pin looking babies, bobbing around like drunken sailors (but then one died now there are two babies) thank you to Diann at littlepenguins for mentioning it last Thursday
warning, the following is true but not particularly upbeat except that I survived
our prompt: What was it like being the oldest/youngest/middle/only child of
the family?
I was kind of all four...
as I was told, my birth mother who was unmarried and pregnant and wanted to do the best for her baby,
(me)
She was brought from Ohio by her brother to wait out the pregnancy at a woman's home in Dade City Florida
that woman's mission was to help women in this predicament. She overheard the doctor threaten my mother who said she wanted to meet the family who was to adopt her baby. The doctor told her to shut up and do what he said, as "things happen" in delivery rooms.... The woman who owned the house was eavesdropping, and chased off the doctor.
as it turned out, the woman's daughter had 2 children, aged 12 and 16, two girls, and was willing to adopt this baby
me
They had middle class money, but plenty to live on back then. The social worker approved them.
the owner of the unwed mother's boarding house became my adopted grandmother. Her daughter became my adoptive mother and took me directly from the hospital, being told I didn't have a liver and would die soon. I weighed 4 lbs. She and her daughters fed me when I opened my mouth and I lived.
So technically I was the "youngest" for a while. The elder sister never showed any care for me, and got married when I was about 4.
The next oldest sister was kind to me, and I adored her, felt safe with her.
She brushed my thin straight tangled hair without hurting me, she took me to the doctors and one night after being hurt she grabbed up this little sister and ran away. She had a car accident though and we were both returned to the home. She was the sort of protector of me, and after I was hurt by the mother, my sister took me to her bedroom for the night... I adored her, and she left me when she married (I was 7) I dreamed of her and her husband taking me with them but it never happened.
as the baby of the family, and now the only child, I had things money could buy but no safety.
other kids envied me for those things and never seemed to wonder why I wanted to stay with them.
I lived in that house as an only child, often ignored (which was safer) or abused since I was now the only one they could hurt/control. I was threatened to never tell what went on. The married sisters were gone, and my first "nephew" by the elder one, was born when I was 5. I was like his older sister at that point. The other sister had a baby when I was 8 and they both visited for family dinners on Sundays.
now I was treated like an older sister.
I never fit in with any of them but lived there like an only child. I was lonely and unsafe, and wondered what would happen to me if I was removed from the house. I had things and toys, and played by myself mostly. I played a lot of imagination games where I was the mom and took care of my dolls. I did a lot of puzzles, coloring, learning books, crafts, and spent days outside on my own. I developed a lifetime love of making craft, of writing (I wrote kid books), of relying on TV, of history and wondering what it would be like to have lived long ago, Imagination was my go to activity.
As the sisters continued to have kids and I got older I was expected to be babysitter..
I was expected to be good, keep quiet, do what I was told and have no opinions. It was dangerous to disagree with the mother so I was good and quiet not to draw attention to myself.
I knew what living with a dictator felt like. The adoptive mother knew to divide we sisters by telling lies about each of us to the others so that we wouldn't bond, as it's easier to control someone that way.
I went to the state university in town, and the father paid for it. He paid for the other sisters college too, and bought us all a car when we were about 17, He paid for their weddings that I didn't get as I was the last to marry and he was gone by then. I paid for it, and that's okay.
I am honest to a fault because I grew up with dishonesty and hate it, so I'm sorry if this story is sad to read. It's only the very tip of the story by the way. I know birth order is important, but assumptions are made about you if you're the "baby" like you're spoiled, or oldest so you are more responsible.
Maybe I'm all of this because I took on all the roles growing up.
I married an oldest kid, and he is responsible as it turns out.
In honor of Milo
please visit these fine folk to read their likes this week, and tell me if I should include your link
