there is no title.

But I’m thinking of the upcoming Kentucky Derby, which I try to watch every year. They’re underdogs, but don’t you just love names like Chocolate Candy and Mine That Bird? I’m rooting them.

The kiddo grabbed my peanut butter and jelly sandwich out of the bag in the back seat this morning on the way to school and decided to lick all of the jelly from it. I guess that’s nothing compared to what my Uncle Jim used to do to my mother and sibs back in the day. He’d sneak down late at night and take all of the meat—from at least five sandwiches–out of their lunchboxes. Grandma Leila switched to PB&J after that. Definitely a Russell-ism (mom’s maiden name). My father, often after a visit to my grandparents, or during a mild argument,  would invoke that–Russellism…or, “not the Russells! Of course not!“. I don’t think—with the exception of Grandma and one or two others—that they gave the impression of any expectation of royal treatment…but the clan certainly expected any quirks (and there were lots of them), and any mistakes or character flaws (they existed but were often denied), to be not forgiven—no, that wasn’t good enough—but overlooked. The quirks—you just had to live with them. Some fell in love with them. I have to think that’s one of my mother’s more loveable charms.

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