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Posts Tagged ‘Family’

Are you a list maker? Or do you try to just wing your way through December? I was in the mall yesterday with the Bride looking at shoes. Well boots actually. When a woman next to me hit panic mode; I feigned looking away. Her friends were all helping her search for something. They reassembled their shopping bags and purses, preparing to soldier on through the Christmas crush as the less panicked slightly disheveled woman caught my eye.

“Oh good, you found your phone,” I said to her with a cell in hand. “No,” she replied sorrowfully and then imploringly said, “I LOST my LIST!” To which we all fell out laughing.

And this is why I am not a list maker. Making a list implies you must actually follow a plan, cross things off, check boxes. Making a list means you won’t forget it. You are an organized, resourceful person, the kind everyone relies on to get things done.

There can only be one list maker in a relationship. If there are two, you run the risk of paddling two separate canoes down the river of life. Which is why Bob keeps our Christmas card list in an excel program and this year we did it all online with just the slightest twinge of guilt. Thank you Shutterfly.

So Santa Baby, go ahead and check your list twice. You don’t scare me.

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We’ve been to Ireland twice. The first time right after I survived my bout with West Nile, and the second time was to take the newly graduated Bride on a trip to our ancestral homeland. It was my brother, Michael E, who dug up the Lynn Family tree. The original Michael J Lynn has his portrait on a wall in some bank in Pawley County, PA. It is said he was a “…Democrat, broad and liberal in his views, …filled the offices of collector, an overseer of the poor, and overseer of roads.”

He was a son of a cattle dealer in Ireland, who came over from Mayo to Scranton, PA in 1854 with “…four pounds sterling.” Or about $20. Starting out in the coal mines, he built a mini-empire of farming, lumbering and a butchering business; he owned over 200 acres of land. Michael H Lynn was the second born son, one of 15 children. My Grandfather took over the cattle business. I believe it was frowned upon when my Father, Robert, decided to study pharmacy instead of the meat business. And it was doubly frowned upon by his family when my Father married the Flapper. A widow with 2 children. She may not have been born high enough for their Irish Catholic tastes.

The Irish Cousins


Mary Gilboy is our remaining cousin in Ballina, Ireland; she is a beautiful woman, a widow in her 80s. She was a teacher of Irish who lives on the sheep farm her Husband worked with her son, John. They have a black and white border collie who likes to wind down a day of sheep herding by watching TV in the evening. She has 2 daughters, Deirdre and Fiona. Deirdre owns the “Wild Haven” youth hostel on Achill Island, and Fiona’s family make rugs in the Gaelic way: http://www.ceadogan.ie/.
Mary has brought us to see the Lynn Family Homestead and been wonderfully hospitable on our visits.

The Irish Christmas package is speeding along across the ocean with my long letter and a few CDs of “Dogs” for the kids. And now I can feel the ancient pull of family, the tidal yearning for belonging. No matter the separation, we Lynns are a strong and brave breed.

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Today we return to the real world. We say “a Bientot” to our French friends, the turtles, the sand and the most beautiful island on earth. At home I’ll cuddle Ms Bean and call the MIL. And I’ll try very hard to hold on to this feeling of slow.

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We’ve been enjoying a tropical Thanksgiving week on an island in the French West Indies. I am grateful for the beautiful weather, the warm Carribean sea, and my little family of six. With the Rocker’s touring schedule and the Newlywed’s Chief year, it’s a wonder we could all manage to vacation together and I am acutely aware of this moment. Below is the view out our kitchen window. breathe…

We also feed the family of turtles who live under the pool. They absolutely love bananas and today we found a baby turtle. We’ve taken to naming them and they like to follow us around. The baby will let us
pet him. If you would like to know the sex of a Turtle, just ask us! I’m hoping to see an iguana before we leave. Here is Maude and Cb with the baby tortue (turtle in French).

And now for the Hare. I’m currently reading “The Hare with Amber Eyes.” I am 71 percent finished since the Kindle tells me so. My friend Diane the art historian told me about this non-fiction book. Without giving too much away, it’s the story of a very wealthy Jewish family and their collection of tiny Japanese bibelots called “netsuke.” These are small carvings of ivory and wood depicting country scenes like rabbits, rats, and turtles, even fishermen with nets. Beautifully intricate delicate beyond imagination, these netsuke were the only thing saved from the Nazis for a great nephew. The author, Edmund de Waal, weaves his family history into the political landscape of pre-WWII with compelling results

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