I got a little carried away -- love inspires me? -- part one

I thought for a writing exercise (and no, I don’t actually passionately aspire to be a great writer someday – but I think we’ve all thought it would be cool at one time or another) and to broaden my blog away from bitching about kids/work/other humans, and to stop trying to force the funny, since I’ve had some feedback that is the reason my few readers drop in – I would start writing stories about my siblings – I have loads, so if I write one story per week that gets me through an entire quarter!

I’ve put very little thought into this actually, but since I generally work from oldest to youngest (I think it is a natural order not just because of first in-first out, but also because you are supposed to list yourself last, and being the “youngest”, that made it appropriate – so I guess I will start with oldest. Well now see this doesn’t work if you don’t understand the whole family flow-chart – which to my knowledge no one has ever attempted to put in writing before. I’m tempted to actually make a chart, you know so that it would look a little like the ‘Days of Our Lives’ character/family tree. Teehee, I’m going to try, I may come back and say – wow I suck at flow charts – we’ll see.

Well it’s not that complicated – but… I don’t have clever names for all of them yet – gonna have to work on that.

Anyhow, the chart will follow when I get the clever pseudonyms figured, for now; I think we have to go from describing my siblings to describing our complicated situation. BTW – if I knew how to put a song up, I would put up Garth Brooks – Love is thicker than Blood – you’ll see what I mean. DO NOT MISUNDERSTAND THIS EXPLANATION – THESE ARE ALL MY SIBLINGS – EQUALLY! A lot of people, including a lot of my in-laws and my brothers and sisters in-laws an spouses have made the mistake of thinking that somehow our biological disconnects makes us less siblings than other families – I think it makes us more siblings – more important to each other, because we know what fractured homes can become and have seen them first hand. When the two youngest came along, none of us were at home anymore, and still Mom and Dad asked us what we thought about them taking in the two boys – not one of us even had to think about it – Mom and Dad cried and carried on about how good we are at sharing what we have – an it’s really not like that at all, it doesn’t feel like sharing, it just feels right.