MountainMornings

After waiting quite awhile for my Uber, I’ve got my boarding pass in hand because for some reason I couldn’t check-in online. What in God’s name did we ever do before the internet? My job in this not-yet-frozen tundra is done. My brother is on the road to recovery.

Being the youngest of six children has its drawbacks; I could never get a word in at the dinner table, and I was always terrified whenever an older sibling drove me anywhere. It must have been part of the big brother contract – always drive fast in small sports cars.

My brother Dr Jim likes to reminisce about growing up “poor.” Since he remembers our Year of Living Dangerously I assume it’s true. But for me, growing up in Victory Gardens, I never felt “poor.” I wore that awful maroon uniform to Catholic school, always had enough food and a new pair of shoes. The Mahons provided unconditional love and puppies so what else did I need?

When asked about his hobbies, Jim who is still a working psychologist, likes to talk about golf. All his teenage friends were getting golf clubs one Christmas and the Flapper told him,

“There’s a country club down the road, maybe you can get a job as a caddy?”

Jim’s goal, once Spring arrives is to get back out on the golf course, and back to work of course. My short term goal is to celebrate the L’il Pumpkin’s Birthday once I get back to Nashville.

Long term? Voting in a Blue Tsunami and maybe a little Karaoke. I was 16 when Jim got his first Lieutenant bars. That’s the Flapper on the right!