My mithers name is Kathleen and she was born 88 years ago. She is enjoying poor health, complaining about her knees mostly. The doctor says there is nothing wrong with her. She has a 92-year-old sister who also likes to complain about her knees and her doctor says there is nothing wrong. There is a bit of Irish somewhere in their background and they both like a little tipple. They also tell the best stories.
The three of us were driving to a quilt show in Vermont a few years ago (they are both still driving). We came upon a beautiful lake and stopped to rest. My parents rented a cottage there when I was two years old and my aunt brought her kids for a visit. After they left my mother started agitating to leave. My father knows better than to argue with her when she starts howling like a banshee. They packed up and went home that very afternoon.
The landlord called the next day to tell them a storm came up so suddenly across the lake that lightening arrived before the rain. A big bolt hit the cottage and knocked out the entire front porch where my brother and I were always playing on the swing.
I guess that Celtic blood made her psychic. No wonder we thought she had eyes in the back of her head.
Aspaysis, who never got away with anything as a kid.