Boring

I am unbelievably boring this week. Mostly I’ve just been cranky about work and since I’m not big on bitching about my job here, there hasn’t been much to say.

We had a nice visit Tuesday with Geoffrey and Jen and are really looking forward to everyone being in town next weekend for DragonCon. This weekend we’re hitting White Water with Katie and Nicole and Kristy and maybe Michael.

See, I told you I was boring.

Genetics and Romance

Ever since my sister and mother informed me that my biological grandfather was “Spanish” I’ve been amusing myself by imagining what that means in terms of my relations. On a message board I frequent, I speculated that my relatives were migrant fruit pickers smuggled up here in the dashboard of some old truck. The running joke is now that I am the result of a truckload of Spanish, lesbian fruit pickers. I couldn’t have possibly imagined that my grandfather was actually royalty or anything like that, oh no. He’s got to be some low-rent, Rico suave with designs on the farmer’s virgin daughter. It’s much more romantic that way.

I’m sure the truth is that they were two scared kids who fell for each other and her Daddy wouldn’t have anything to do with a mixed marriage in white Ohio in 1949. Someday perhaps we’ll dig for more. I’d at least like to know his nationality. At the moment, however, I’m more concerned about the grandfather I know and love, who continues to suffer and prays for the Lord to take him home.

And though it’s fun to imagine my mysterious relations, it’s even more fun to imagine the look of joy and hope that must have been on Grandpa Curry’s face when he first beheld my infant mother and knew that THAT prayer had been answered. Now that’s a romantic story for you.