My father's mother was named Christina, but everyone called her Nellie, much to her dismay because Nellie was a cow's name. She was a posthumous child and subsequently collected eleven half-siblings. Her parents left her to tend their small grocery store and take care of ten children one summer when they took their youngest child to Germany to visit the old country. She was twelve, and she took her responsibility seriously. None of the children died and the store didn't go under. My grandmother read only one book in her life--a romance called The Sheik. She said it was so good that she never felt the need to read another.
Wonderfully mooving story.
Posted by: JWebb | May 15, 2005 at 08:48 PM
I milked it for all it was worth.
Posted by: gail | May 15, 2005 at 08:56 PM
Udderly delightful.
Posted by: JWebb | May 15, 2005 at 09:03 PM
Youze guys puns are going to make me have a cow.
Posted by: dorkafork | May 15, 2005 at 10:50 PM
You're welcome to horn in any time.
Posted by: gail | May 15, 2005 at 11:04 PM
Gail would never steer you wrong.
Posted by: JWebb | May 15, 2005 at 11:21 PM
I think it would behoove us all to drop this conversation.
Posted by: Julie | May 16, 2005 at 12:17 AM
Prime story. Really choice.
Posted by: Beck | May 16, 2005 at 05:32 AM
Nellie was outstanding in her field.
Posted by: Ana | May 16, 2005 at 11:02 AM
When you say posthumous child, you mean that her mother died in childbirth? Or she was concieved after the invention of hummus? Just hoping to clarify.
Posted by: Ana | May 16, 2005 at 11:04 AM