Sometimes a journey is... Just a way to get from place to place!

Spousal Unit and I have been married for almost sixteen years, but I have met very few of his extended family members.  We rectified this last month at his Family Reunion.

After finding the shelter at the Coonskin Park (no, I'm not kidding), it was time to Meet The Cousins. And the Myriad Aunts and Uncles.  The Dynamo (Spousal Unit's mom) is the youngest of some thirteen children, and pretty much all of them procreated abundantly.

Lunch was scheduled for the afternoon, as were a door prize giveaway and an auction.  Now, lunch was catered -- partly, anyway -- with proceeds from the auction of last year's reunion.  I warned The Dynamo that the family had to be careful. Hillbillies -- and believe me, this is a hillbilly family -- don't have catered family reunions!

After lunch it was time for the door prize giveaway.

Now, Spousal Unit was off walking with Cartoon Ranger, who was having issues with being where we were (another tale for perhaps another day) and Cyclone and I were hanging out at the lunch tables, playing Boxes.  One of the Aunts (or was she a cousin?) who has a fondness for the Spousal Unit took pity upon his family, asking Cyclone to write out the numbers for the Door Prize Drawing.  I was asked to help hand them out.  

"Can you do that?" she asked.  "Would you mind?"

I smiled.  "Not at all."

Someone tried to turn on the karaoke machine (for the use of the microphone) to get everyone's attention, for the family was rather spread out by this time.  I said, "Do I need to get their attention?"

"Oh yes."

So, of course, I did.

I do confess, I very much enjoyed surprising everyone.   In my "public speaking" voice, I simply called:   "Ladies and Gentlemen! May I have your attention?"

Thing is, I'm very loud.   Well, I can be, anyway.  Not only am I loud, but I'm enthusiastic.  And I was having FUN, because I thrive as the center of attention.    No surprise there, eh?

Calling out the numbers on the prizes, I did a little bit of patter about the recipient (for I had been paying attention during the pre-lunch introductions and so forth) or where they were seated (there seemed to be a "lucky bench" for prizewinners) and handed out the prizes to the winners.  I heard "What does she do for a living?"  and "That's his wife?"

After the prizes had been given, I was asked to take over the auctioneering job.  A) They could tell I was enjoying myself and they wanted to show me I was  welcome.  B) I think they were enjoying themselves as well.  However, Uncle D was the usual auctioneer and I didn't want to supplant him!  He asked me to join him and I suggested we alternate, and so we did.  Before he retired, he taught English and Spanish and history, so we had a lot in common.  And I think he had a good time working with me. At least, I hope so!

Bidding wars included the raucous race to $100 for a handmade quilt and a huge bidding war for Tennessee Uncle's Homemade bread.  With homemade jellies. In a basket.    That went for $45 after fierce competition!

We raised over $700 this year at the reunion.  Whatever is not used for next year's catering will be donated to charity.  The family votes on it.

Someone caught me on video whilst I was involved in the above shenanigans.  I don't think I want to watch myself.  I was having a terrific time, but I don't think I want to see myself having a terrific time.  Even if I did make folks laugh as they handed their cash to Aunt Trish (not her real name, natch!) and bundled up their baskets and blankets and bread!

These are not stellar pics by any means, but here is a rough idea of my "before" and "after" in terms of my hair.  Both taken with my webcam and both, yes, with the treadmill in evidence.  lol

Next post:  How I Became an Auctioneer!

Many  years ago... okay, in 2002, to be exact... I was buying a café mocha at the Starbucks counter at the local Barnes & Noble, where my Roundtable met twice a month.  A young lady approached me from behind with a flier.

"You have great hair!"

Taken aback, I thanked her. 

Then, she asked me, "Have you ever considered donating it?"

I replied in the negative, and she asked me with great sincerity to have my hair cut at an event her university was hosting.  Professional stylists and everything would be on hand to cut and even give a fresh new style to new-shortened locks.

After consulting with my guys, I went to the event, got a free t-shirt, got my hair cut (fourteen inches, then) and started growing my hair again.

Not quite six full years later, I once again had my hair cut for this cause.  Mums sectioned my hair so that she could band it off into four ponytails, leaving me with a straight bob, and leaving seventeen inches of hair banded in red rubber bands.  It has since been bagged and tagged for shipment.

And, again, I am getting used to using a lot less conditioner when I shampoo my hair!