Crooked

This crooked tree and crooked sign are in the court house near the nursing home. As you probably can tell, I enjoy highlighting everyday imperfection, which leads me to the following story about Chesapeake Bay Middle Sister.

Today I continue with more of Chesapeake Bay Mother’s musings. In case you ever get the impression that life here in Mathews was/is all peachy and perfect, I offer the following glimpse into our crazy little world.

Chesapeake Bay Mother wrote me a letter back in April of 1987. Middle Sister would have been 20 years old then. Here is an excerpt:

Dear CBW,

How are you?

We are OK. Chesapeake Bay Middle Sister’s charges were dropped*and her lawyer didn’t even charge her a dime! She was SO relieved. Husband never knew any of it.**

The weather here is beautiful after all that rain. (Incidentally, the sail boat*** washed away to a neighbor’s place and hung up under their dock breaking the chrome off.)

-CB Mother
**************

Chesapeake Bay Woman’s Comments:

*Middle Sister had, shall we say, a “car incident,” involving our Grandfather the General’s car, Route 17 in Yorktown, and a whole lot of good fortune considering all the possible outcomes. I believe a 180-degree turn into a ditch was a prominent part of the story. Heaven knows what else was involved.

** Deception, plain and simple. This happens a lot in our family. We assume that what people don’t know won’t hurt them. It’s how we’ve survived all these years. For example, what good would it do to tell your mother that you were going to New York City via Greyhound bus for a weekend shopping spree? She'd only worry that her daughter was crossing state lines by herself and would be spending the weekend buying cheap pocketbooks from shady characters. What Mumma doesn’t know can’t possibly hurt her. BTW – I would never go to NYC to shop. Chesapeake Bay Baby Sister, the one who wants me to write more stories about her, would though.

***The “sail boat” was the sunfish, from which I did a back flip when the mast swirled around and hit me when me and CB Middle Sister were teaching ourselves to sail.

Welcome to a typical, dysfunctional day in the life of the Chesapeake Bay Family. There is drama, intrigue, lies and drama. Did I mention the drama?

Report Card

I took this picture last week down at the public landing. It was freezing outside and my fingers were numb. Speaking of numb, here is another mind-numbing excerpt from The Misadventures of the Chesapeake Bay Family.

Chesapeake Bay Baby Sister complained recently that I never write stories about her, only about Middle Sister. There are many reasons for this, namely that Middle Sister and I spent more time together and were closer in age. Also, by the time Baby Sister was old enough to create any memorable stories, I was off to college creating my own life stories.

Our mother wrote the following which involves Baby Sister. Enjoy, Baby Sister! Remember, you asked for it.
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From CB Mother:

Entry from diary circa mid-1980’s

Petrified remains of Noah’s ark are easier to locate than Chesapeake Bay Little Sister’s report card. Somewhere in Turkey, isn’t it? The ark, I mean.

This young person is very adept when it comes to introducing a parent gradually to the adverse report by giving probable locations and exiting stage right.

When I finally remember three weeks later that I still haven’t seen the report card, it has had another misadventure: It was spattered with cafeteria-made vegetable soup and suffered some disintegration and is drying in her locker at school. Gospel truth.

Meanwhile Little Sis entertains with a musing about the effect of term papers on final grades; how if you failed to turn one in, your otherwise “A” average might possibly sag to a “D.”

MIT, here she comes.

-CBMother
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Additional Commentary from Chesapeake Bay Woman:

Baby Sister could really weave a story and twist the truth so hard it screamed in agony.