Keep It In The Family

Call it tradition, call it heritage, call it lack of imagination.  Call it what you will, my family tends to pass the same names around through generations, although there are no "Juniors" or "II, III," etc.  My sister had seven children and, being older, got first pick when naming her kids, although she showed the same lack of originality with her girls, all of whom have Mary or Marie as a middle name.  In my own tribe, like drawing from a deck of cards, we called on uncles and grandparents of both genders to hand out in random fashion.  Aunts were neglected, as Jimmy and Carl no longer seemed appropriate names for girls.  Within three generations, there are two named David, three James, two Matthew, three Alvena, three Lawrence, and two Peter.  Once in awhile, just for variety, we threw a new name into the mix and so have a Debra and a Steven (my husband Steve came later, and then we had two of those).  The others are all reruns.  In addition to relatives, a beloved hospital chaplain got mixed in twice.  Two of my sons carry his name, and one Kid got loaded with three names (two in the middle) so we could fit it in.  Whether used as first or middle was purely luck of the draw, but, by golly, we were going to keep those names in the family.

In the mid 70s, yesterday was weather heaven, a day to be relished.  I actually felt virtuous as I vacuumed, relieved to be up and moving again after sitting like a lump during the heat.  Outside, I wasn't quite ready to tackle the leaves on the deck with a broom.  Like first dipping a toe in the water, one must ease into physical activity.  Later in the evening, discussing that situation and my desire for a leaf blower with Linda, the decision was made and with her help, a battery-powered blower was ordered online and will be here next week.  Oh crum, there goes my last excuse.

PS:  I stand corrected.  One of my sister's four daughters was middle-named Esther, after our mother, who hated her name and wondered why my sister would inflict that on her child.  (My mother was named Esther because she was born on Easter that year.)  Duh.