I Love Lulu

I would like to dedicate this blog to my sister-in-law, Lulie.

When I met Lulie she was seven years old. Shy as my girl Emily Dickinson. Sweet as a tulip. Steel up the center like a warrior queen.

Nut brown from all that desert sun.

Lucy told her teacher she had three sisters and was very put out when her mom, who birthed three daughters and not four, didn't realize that the third one. . . was me.

Lucy made sure that there was a stocking with my name on it at my first Tuttle Christmas.

The goblins used to call her Doodoo. Now she is auntie Yuyu.

She is going to be something fancy one day and make a lot of money and take us all on cruises. And you know what? I believe her. And I am stating that here because someday, when she actually does make all that money, I can hold her to her promises.

The steel. You are wondering about the steel.

Little Lucy once tackled a boy on the bus who made fun of her older brother and threatened to put a knife through his throat.

We like our women strong.


The above picture was Lucy 10 years ago, with Sophie and some dog who probably died a traumatic death and I am probably inducing further trauma by showing it.

And here is Lucy now:



Oh wait. Here is Lucy now:





I love you Lulie! Happy Birthday.