Aren’t you just the spitting image…

Not of my parents, but of my sister. Three of my siblings have fairer skin that tends more toward burning than tanning, and three of us have darker hair (Well, it used to be darker. Now it’s whiter and receding.) and have more olive-toned skin. It isn’t often that someone says I look like any of my aunts or uncles. My mom says I remind her of my dad’s sister, but my sister says no. My mom’s memory isn’t trustworthy anymore. (For the longest time, she insisted that I had a picture of my grandfather holding me. He died two weeks after I was born and he only held me once, so a picture was very unlikely. We finally figured out she was talking about a picture of me with my uncle when I was two-years-old.)

The way I most resemble my parents is that I rarely sit and do nothing. If I’m watching TV, I’m writing, or knitting, or embroidering, or something. My hands need to be busy. In theory, the occupation needs to be productive. Every evening, my parents would settle into their chairs for television, and my mom would get out her knitting or crocheting. She was always working on something. Other than the evenings, my dad was never idle. Living and working on a small, family dairy meant that there was always work to be done. I suspect he needed some time at the end of the day to wind down.

I’m not sure if this is always a great trait to inherit. It is wonderful to be productive and finish projects, but there is also anxiety at not being able to work on something. I took my kids to a movie last week and was worried about how I would pass the time. I survived but fell asleep through the middle of the movie.

Patty’s post reminded me of another way I resemble my dad. In his high school yearbook, his class named him the most likely to write a romance novel. He never wrote a romance novel or a novel of any kind, but he did write out his World War II experience and helped publish two books about the local history.

About Joselyn

SAHM writing romance with at a case of the giggles. Former librarian. Avid reader. Runner.
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7 Responses to Aren’t you just the spitting image…

  1. Patricia Kiyono says:

    I’m sure I would have loved meeting your parents. You inherited some great traits from them. How interesting that your dad was voted most likely to write a romance novel! That’s not a category I’ve never seen in senior mock elections. I understand about being anxious not having anything to do. I keep some of my smaller projects in little tote bags next to my recliner so that I can grab one whenever I go somewhere.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I have written here about the complications of looking like my sister; we no longer have that problem, though.
    I’ve also written about multi-taking.It’s hard for me not to, as well, which is why I hate it when my sister and others insist on text conversations; I can be doing other things while I am talking on the phone, but have to put everything down when the texts are going back and forth.
    You and I have a lot in common, including the writing gene inheritance.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Joselyn says:

      I feel like I need to have all my senses engaged. I would rather text because I can’t stand talking on the phone, but I don’t text back right away either. My sister likes to talk, so I do a lot of listening when she calls. 🙂

      Like

  3. elainecsc2013 says:

    There’s definitely a family resemblance between my sister and me. On vacation a stranger randomly said to me, “You two must be sisters. You have the same face.”

    Liked by 2 people

  4. jeff7salter says:

    your comment about the family watching TV brought back some memories.
    My mom rarely watched TV with us, unless it was in the winter-time when we moved the TV into the large kitchen where it was warm. She spent those couple of hours of “prime-time” fussing around the kitchen with the dishes and such.
    But in nicer weather, our family TV was out in what was called the “breezeway” — and, yeah, there was a breeze out there. No heating and no A/C — just the air from a bank of windows.
    Anyhow, my dad almost always had a game of solitaire (cards) going when he watched TV. I don’t recall him ever just sitting there watching, as my siblings and I usually were. He’d sit in his rocker, with a plain piece of plywood over the arms of the chair and deal out hand after hand of solitaire.

    Liked by 2 people

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