gratitude-a-thon day 2056: my cousin, Bobby


424740_518487394843884_1405958145_nAnd today’s gratitude goes out to cancer. Specifically, not having it. Not me, not having it, although, I have not had it a more times than Trump has misspelled words on Twitter, but my cousin not having it. Sing hallelujah, with a chorus of NO CANCER.

My cousin Bobby is one of the most solid, nicest and best people I know. He has been an attorney to our entire whack-a-doodle family over the years, civic-minded, spiritual, a volunteer to many good causes, a stellar son, brother, husband and dad, a voice of reason and both generous and wonderful, with an infectious laugh I could mimic for you, except you’re not here and you can’t hear me (Are you? If you are, please disregard my hair, I’m having it dyed today, but until then I look like Barbara Bush before she died, may she rest in peace).

Anywho, the rest of the story is longer, but let’s just leave it at this: we thought he had pancreatic cancer. He is 75. He had a very involved surgery to remove the “pancreatic cancer,” only a funny thing happened, which is that there wasn’t any! But on the way there, my cousins and sister and I, were all FREAKING OUT LIKE WHEN THAT ORANGE-HAIRED, NO BRAIN BLOB BEAT HILLARY. Uh huh, it was that bad. So, for several very tense days, we waited and pondered the idea that this superhuman guy could be quite sick. It was hellish.

But, he is not! No, he beat the pants off of the big C. As I would expect him to do. And I’m telling you, gratitude parade coming to a town near you. Oh yeah, this is grateful on a big dose of steroids. Long live, Bobby T.!



gratitude-a-thon day 491: cousin in the house


Last night my cousin Gabe came over for dinner. He lives in L.A., so I rarely see him. He’s here to interview some Harvard dudes on a History channel show he’s writing on exoplanets, which are planets outside of the solar system, several of which, may be inhabitable by man (WHO KNEW? answer: not me). Anywho, I was so grateful to see him, because it’s been a long while (since before his dad, the famous Uncle Louie, died) and it made me wish that L.A. was near here, and I could hang out with my cousin, and my son (and of course, get in on some of that weather). It’s a small world, yes. But not small enough for me.

gratitude-a-thon day 430: the fifth of july

Yesterday we had a fifth of July picnic on account of Arthur who breezed in on the 4rth and wrecked everybody’s independence. I am so grateful for the guac and dogs and tomato salad, and great food and my cousins, and so ungrateful for the margarita’s that went down so easily and almost back up all night.


Cousins. Dylan, Kayla, Jake, Tyler, Maddy & Ally.
The crew at the beach.
Jake and Tyler do some dumb thing where they get wet, roll in the sand, and then get wet again. Yeccccchhhhh.


Yup, those margarita’s got me in the middle of the night.
Cousins making faces.

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Bob taking orders for the grill.
Ally, moi, Deb & Kayla.
Bob, Tyler, Barb, Bob, Deb, Toni (hey, that’s me), Peter, Jake, Dylan, Maddy, Kayla, Ally & Riley.Photo credz to the fabulous Karly.
Me and my cuz. Love you, Barb!