Blame It On The Genes

We celebrated my Uncle Lane Clark's 60th birthday last night at my cousin Christy's house.  My mom had 3 older brothers and Uncle Lane is the only surviving sibling.  

Not such good genes-- It's the Clark-bum-heart genes.  So to celebrate his 60th birthday is like the equivalent of a 90th birthday party for someone else.  It's a big deal and a cause for celebration!

And this is my 20-year old cousin who just recently got married....

Or wait... is this actually my Aunt Carolyn who just became a grandmother!!!!  How is it possible that she can be a grandma???  Where can I git me some of those genes?

 

This is Abe just as he arrived home from the 50 miler and was shocked to see what I had done to our closet.  Namely that I had de-junked, cleaned out, purged, and organized the closet.  It was such a revelation to discover our closet was meant to be a "walk-in closet" versus a "climb over the piles closet".  

I am currently in the middle of a massive garage clean-out as well.  

May I suggest that the tendency to be a hoarder is also in the genes.  Those would be Abe's genes--not so much mine.

 What about political views?  Are those inherited as well?

Grandpa Cannon is doing his darndest to teach them while they're young.

Here's an exciting thing-- my dad is one of a handful of candidates in a special election for a seat in the State Legislature in Davis County.  The current House member is stepping down and the Republican Committee something or other (sorry I can't remember the details) will be voting on her replacement later this week.  So good luck to my Pappy this week.  

He's always loved it when I call him Pappy because it is such a respectful nickname.  

No-- that is not true. 

He does not and has never liked me to call him Pappy.  I tell you what, Dad, if you get elected to be a State Legislator, I will once and forever stop calling you Pappy. 

But if you don't...

  This is Elinor's pet fish, Goldie.  She got Goldie for her birthday in February and the fish is still alive. 

And those are some serious hard water stains on the glass container that houses Goldie.   That is nasty.

This is Clark's pet tree frog, Froggert, that he found up in Spokane.  Miraculously, it is still alive as well.  He has good genes. Who's idea was it for the frog to sit on my kitchen counter??  That's really nasty.

This is a stray neighborhood kitty that my children were playing with a couple of weeks ago.  

I'd like to reiterate that THIS IS A STRAY CAT.  THIS IS NOT OUR CAT.  WE WILL NOT GET ANOTHER CAT EVER! I don't care if you did feed him a can of tuna fish and so now he thinks he is our cat.  HE IS NOT OUR CAT!  You can try to climb in through the broken window screen and meow until you're blue in the face--- BUT YOU ARE NOT OUR CAT!!

Now--it is possible that I saw this particular cat, a few days later roaming another part of the neighborhood and some kind soul might have asked me if I knew who this cat belonged to and I might have completely denied any knowledge whatsoever of said cat.  

 And if this incident did occur I would have been completely justified in my denials because THIS IS NOT OUR CAT!