It's All in the Genes

I bought a cheap MP3 player, and I do mean cheap. The instructions are written on the tiniest book I have ever seen - except for those little surprises/toys that come in Cracker Jacks. I tried downloading a couple of songs last night, but I did not manage to get it right. Jesse said, “Reading the instructions is always helpful.” Thank you, Jesse. I can hardly read the instructions even with my magnifying glasses. I think they may be written in another language. Why can’t she just do it for me?

Harriet the kitten bit the dust a few days ago. I couldn’t seem to break her habit of getting up in the cars. I didn’t mention it before, because it makes me rather sad. Count Rugen has used up about three of his nine lives, but is one tough kitty. He has taken a couple of rides in the car, been deposited down the road, was missing for a week, and still turned up alive. I have been letting him in the house the last few days to recover from the latest trauma. Zoe may have used him as a play toy, but without a DNA test, we can‘t be sure it was Zoe. Rugen was slobbery wet and barely moving when we found him outside the other day. Zoe did not mean to hurt him - he had no puncture wounds so I know she was trying to be careful with him. But when a Great Dane plays with a kitten, well, we know how it will turn out. Like I said, Rugen is tough.

It looks like I will be going to Sulphur Springs, TX, on Saturday with my mom for the Chapman Family Reunion. My mom has several old aunties in their 90’s still coming to the reunions. I won’t know half of the people there and the other half I will be confused about, but I still enjoy going. The food is always excellent. The Chapman’s are a very musical group - a gene that did not get passed to me - but they will have their guitars and amps and there will be lots of singing. They sing lots of gospel and country. My grandfather played the steel guitar and had a great voice. He was some kind of talented. He and his brothers used to sing at country fairs and such back in their day. He was always pencil thin like my mother - I did not get that gene either. I wish we had recorded him playing the guitar and singing - that would be something to treasure. By the way, his name was Jesse Emil - my brother and my Jesse are named after him. My cousin named her little girl Emily after him. My best memory of Grandpa was sitting on the curb at his gas station in Mesquite, TX, drinking sodas together. He taught us to smack our lips and let out a deep long sigh after each drink. I have been diligent to teach this to GBN1.

Jesse has some excellent photos of my Grand Girls on her blog, and I do mean excellent. She took the photos with her new camera while at the park on Tuesday. Please ignore the last photo. Jesse has a mean-streak like her father. I did not get that gene either.