garbage to the curb

Alright, let me rest of little laurels, having decorated the corner of the driveway with many plastic garbage bags.

And my sister will be ecstatic that I finally found some baubles that she has been whining about since Dad married my step-mom.  My step-mom had a silk suit made for me in St. Augustine and had my hair done by an honest-to-god gay hairdresser.  My sister gave me this costume choker and clip-on pearl earrings to sport, because they have a bizarre desire to make me look feminine.  Yeah, like Milton Berle....

Anyway, she finally, after 6 years, has shut up about it and now...  I am delaying telling her.   I should call her up so she can swoon and fuss or whatever the hell she'll do. (I'm talking about my lying, kooky, product-of-the-same-womb sister, not my younger, pretty, well-to-do and smart sister-by-marriage.)

Hell, she might fly down here (in her car) to snatch them up.  That's what she did when Mom died.  Cleaned out the jewelry drawers.  She was a wreck.  A mess.  A freak.

Me, I was just numb.

She is into all kinds of mischief and I never know if she is telling the truth.  She looks up relatives from Mom's side of the family.  I don't trust her motives.  She used to by-pass this whole county to go see a woman she was close to in high school and not stop in on her way back, either.

She avoided us, though she claimed love and brought cheap, silly gifts at Christmas.  She still doesn't know how to pick them.  Salad spinner, anyone?

I think she foisted off crap she bought and then had to get rid of because her husband raised his eyebrows....

And they've been married 25 years.  God bless 'em.  Especially him.

There was much tumult when she took up with him, lots of dirt, but I guess she knew what she was doing.