Daughter Susy, son Matthew and I spend a lot of time hanging out in medical waiting rooms. Times have changed in waiting rooms. It seems they can’t call anybody’s turn anymore by using last names. I read of one suggested way to do it might be “Due to new privacy regulations, we aren’t allowed to call in patients by their name, so could the lady with hemorrhoids please follow me?”

We could just sit there sucking our thumbs hoping to hear a similar call or the magic “Next”, but we don’t. In the olden days, we might have passed the time thumbing through old dog-eared Women’s Day, National Geographic, or People magazines but they’re gone now. It’s okay though. Thanks to modern technology, and as long as our battery power holds out, we try to be as industrious as possible.

I, for one, am often diligently keyboarding on my iPad, trying to crank out another blob for your perusal. I dread the day though when someone will ask me “What is it, my dear, that you are so busy writing?” I wish I could respond by explaining that I’m writing a sure-to-be Pulitzer-award-winning essay, or best-selling novel, or world-class Broadway play, or heartrending memoir, but I can’t.

If it wasn’t for my sister Joan, I could at least say, “I’m a blogger and I’m writing a post for my blog.” Instead I’m stuck with the truth. “I’m a blobber, and I’m busy writing a blob.”

This ignominious situation is entirely due to my sister Joan. In 2010, shortly after I started penning these whatchamacallits, Joan left the following comment regarding one of them (34. Term Paper Time).

To which, Joan’s daughter (my niece) Denise chimed in with:

So that’s what happened. After that, it just kinda caught on, and I’ve been blobbering ever since. It’s a humbling experience.

When we were little, I believed everything Joan told me.  Like how the king and queen lived in the Cedar Rapids City Hall.

So as far as I’m concerned, if Joan says goingon80.com is a blob, it’s a blob. Usually, she wasn’t too far off. For instance, of course I realize now that the king and queen don’t live in the Cedar Rapids courthouse- they live at the C.S.P.S. Hall. But she was close.

And yes, I know. Toilet paper is NOT made from poop.  It’s made from sludge – a big white blob of it.  No wonder she confused it with what you’re reading.

So blob it is, Sis.  Good catch. I stand corrected.

Oh, to be the way we were! I just wish my sister was still here to continue my education. Today is the anniversary of her death. Joan died at age 90, on March 27, 2020, three years ago. She was one of the unique special gifts of my life, and if you have a sister – or several – I hope you know how lucky you are. As my big sister, she was bossy, determined, creative, caring, protective, and forgiving, and I will always love her.