Habitual Habitat of the Amy

I kept reading advice columns for how to bring sales to your etsy shop, and one thing they all said is to get a blog.

I can't say this blog has boosted my etsy sales, but it has given me yet another outlet for talking about myself, and that can't be bad--can it?

The direct link to the Etsy shop is HERE

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Relatively Speaking

Skeleton Key Bracelet on Etsy
Skeleton keys are old-fashioned and evoke thoughts of the Victorian past (and all things steampunk), and thus is almost appropriate that I'm posting this bracelet today after having suffered through a weekend full of nostalgia and sepia photographs.  And arguing.

See, my grandmother turned 90 this year, and my mother decided it was a good idea to invite her brother and sister to come and visit for a party--they live in Colorado and North Carolina, respectively.

On the surface this sounds like a fun family get-together with relatives we don't see often, and everyone getting a chance to see my grandmother because someday she really will die (right?), and wouldn't you like to say you'd seen her one last time?

But you can only think that when you don't know my mother's family. (Mom, you should probably stop reading about here, btw)

See, there's a reason they all live on different sides of the country.  My aunt is rich, and somewhat uptight.  My uncle is a seller of antiques who was living in a shelter at one point in the last year.  My mom is contentedly middle-class, but controlling and argumentative. They have nothing in common. Except a tendency to fight and argue and some genes.

But apparently those genes provide a nice common ground for them, because the family tree was all they talked about while my aunt and uncle were here.


Now, don't get me wrong.  Genealogy is a respectable hobby, and I fully intend to take it up when I'm fifty or sixty and suddenly find myself concerned about letting my kids/niece know where I came from.  But for now I'm only 27, and begin stuck alone with three antagonistic about-retirement-aged people talking about how many kids so-and-so had, where they all moved after 1830, how many times they married and who their parents were...it's my newest definition of hell.

It wasn't even a peaceful discussion because my aunt needed everything explained twice and my UNCLE TALKS REALLY LOUD AND WITHOUT LISTENING TO ANYONE and my mom thinks it should all really be about her.

I'm so glad everyone is gone home now.

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