Today is my little sister's birthday. That is her in the picture at about 4 years old. I'd moved on to college by the time my little sister was about 2.
When I'd come home from college and come in to the house, my little sister would run at me at full speed and literally jump into my arms.
We had a poodle then, named Peppy. Peppy and my little sister would act the same way. All glad to see me.
But, thinking of my little sister, back when she was little, is not what got me melancholy.
I was in the ALDI store in Hurst. There was a little kid that so reminded me of my nephew, Joey.
When my nephews were little kids I used to have so much fun taking them places. To Seattle, up in the mountains, across the mountains to Eastern Washington. Up to Canada.
Joey is the nephew who would go mountain biking with me. The last time I was in Port Townsend, Joey and I parked at Fort Casey State Park and rode our bikes on the ferry to Port Townsend, then pedaled out to Fort Worden. We were having too much fun and barely made it on the last ferry of the day, which turned out to be a rock and roll wild ride, due to a big tide change.
I last talked to Joey after the tropical storm Hermine flooded us in North Texas. Joey saw it on the news. Apparently it looked bad. So, Joey called to see if I got flooded. We talked for a long time. The grown up Joey is my nephew who most reminds me of the little kid version of a nephew.
I last saw Joey in person in early August of 2008, at Bay View State Park, in the Skagit Valley. I was in the valley to meet my grand nephew, Spencer Jack, for the first time. So, Joey came out to the park.
The summer before I moved to Texas, Joey and his brother took me to Las Vegas for 4 days. That was the last time I've spent extended time with any of my nephews. That was 1998. Joey was 15 when we went to Vegas.
I did some of my usual "Nephews in Danger" stuff when were in Vegas.
That is Joey and me on the roller coaster at the New York New York Casino. I am not a big fan of getting flipped upside down on a roller coaster.
A lot has changed since I moved to Texas.
One of my sister's and her family moved to Phoenix, along with my two youngest nephews.
My mom and dad moved to Phoenix.
My brother, Joey's dad, moved to Phoenix, well, actually Maricopa, south of Phoenix. It's just easier to say they live in Phoenix. If I say Chandler, Sun Lake or Maricopa, no one knows where that is, just like on a trip, whilst living in Washington, I'd say I was from Seattle, not Mount Vernon.
Or like now, I say I'm from Dallas, not Fort Worth. Dallas and Seattle have greater name recognition than Fort Worth and Mount Vernon.
Anyway, thinking about fun times, long gone, never to be repeated, is what has me feeling melancholy.
I think a hike around the Tandy Hills will break me out of this mood. Or make it worse by getting me dwelling on where I used to hike and what I settle for now.
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