Category Archives: family

I’m not dead

Dearest Readers,

I promise I have not forgotten you. The last two weeks (and I can’t believe that two WHOLE weeks have passed since I last posted) haven’t been extremely taxing on my time, so I don’t really have an excuse for leaving y’all in the dark and neglecting your needs for excuses to procrastinate. My apologies. Because I know you all are on the edge of your seats wondering what’s happening in my oh-so exciting life, here’s the digest version of life since the last post:

Tom visited me! Much, much fun was had, rollercoasters were ridden, drinks were drank (drunk?), Texas spirit was seen, and great stories were born. It was very hard to see him leave.

I finished the first semester of Anatomy and Physiology! I am now well-versed in the ways of skin, muscle, bone and the nervous system. Now on to semester number two…

I’ve been having a lot of pain in my left hip when I run. Actually, it’s been so bad that I stopped running for nearly two weeks because I was having a hard time walking after I ran. So…I went to a doctor and we talked and took x-rays and all that stuff. And… I have bursitis. Again (well, this time it’s in my hip). Damn my old woman body. My doctor gave me some cortizone pills and this gel stuff that people with arthritis use and told me to do three weeks of physical therapy and to keep running on it. All that was nice and good, but it hasn’t helped. I haven’t gone to physical therapy yet, but running on it has just made it hurt more. So, I don’t know. I’ll let you know what happens.

Stupid parents of the kids I coach keep bringing their infected children to the gym. For some reason, they all seem to think that though their children were too ill to go to school, it is perfectly fine for them come to gym and share their germs with us and all of the other kids. And now I’ve caught something nasty. I don’t think it’s the flu (thank goodness) because I haven’t really had much of a fever, but I feel pretty awful. My chest is all tight and my voice is like ten octaves lower and I’m achy and my head hurts. Ugh.

And, finally, Bobby is home this weekend! She’s off for her fall break. It’s so good to have her back in the house. I miss her so much when she’s away.

But that’s about it. More to come, I promise.




Embarassing Moments 1 & 2

#1: It was the last day of our week of perfect days on the beach. Grace and Graham had just had a long scuffle over who got to sit in which chair (I have a video of this, it’s really entertaining, but Grace has forbidden me to post it on the internet).

Now, to understand the next (and completely inconsequential) part of this story, it is pertinent for you to know just how my family operates. As you certainly know, I have three younger siblings. And as so often happens in families, there is always something that everyone wants, but which can only be had by one or two. In life we call this the basics of economics. But as it happens in my family, the most sought-after commodity (and this can take the form of the most comfortable chair in the family room, the best blanket, the last ice cream cone…) is given to the child that either gets to it first or to the child that gives the child that does get to it first a big enough incentive (usually the freedom from some sort of physical pain or annoyance) to give it up. However, there are two sacred rites which no one will ever dare violate. Should one choose to leave their coveted seat, calling “seat check” protects it against any who hope to claim it in your absence. The second are the traditional rules of shotgun, of which I am sure you are all very well aware. Calling “seat check” and “shotgun, no blitz!” are as much of our daily routine as being given another child’s newly-washed clothes back from the laundry and eating food off each others’ plates (I know this makes us seem a little barbaric but, unfortunately, that is sometimes not too far from the truth).

So, on this particular day at the beach, Graham had stolen the beach chair Grace had been sitting in and refused to give it back to her because she hadn’t called “seat check”. After much throwing of sand, name-calling and yelling, Grace stormed off to go walk with our mom along the beach and Graham stormed off in the other direction, our dad running to catch up with him soon after. This leaves me and Bobby alone with the six chairs. Naturally, in my mom’s absence, I move to her chair (the superior of the whole group) which is right next to Bob’s. We chat, laugh about what has just happened and taste my mom’s margarita. Eventually my mom comes back and (because you don’t mess with the mom) I start to stand up to give her back her chair. But as the muscles in my legs begin to contract to bring me out of that lovely chair, a loud ripping sound erupts from the seat and I fall back into the chair. My mom no longer wants to take her seat back and Bobby is crying from laughing so hard. And I refuse to leave the chair in an attempt to maintain some tiny bit of dignity and keep them from having a chance to survey the damage and further fuel their laughter. About fifteen minutes later though, my mom found a critter in the sand and because I just couldn’t pass that up, I leave and Bob snaps this picture for whatever future evil plans she has against me:IMG_1815

#2: We have an automatic gate (and by automatic I mean it operates much like a garage door, in regards to the button device that people clip to their cars’ visors) that opens up to the alley behind our house. Because Grace has finally gotten her license, I have been driving the oh-so-large suburban, which we park behind the house. On this not-so-special day, I was taking Bob and Graham to get a haircut. We all climb into the car, I turn on the ignition and press the gate button. And I start to back out thinking, “I’m such a pro at this. I’ve been driving this thing for 4 weeks. I’ve got this down. I could probably do this with my eyes closed. Yeah, I’m sooo slick.” And then there’s a big crunch and Bobby screaming at me to stop. And then I’m out of the car and my mom is yelling at me, “Haley Marshall! How many times have I told you to look behind you while you’re backing up?!” (you know it’s really bad when she uses both of your names) and I feel more like an idiot than I ever felt slick.

So, I knocked the gate off its track and completely un-welded the chain that the motor uses to pull it back and forth and bent the gate’s frame just enough that it no longer opens and closes smoothly. And I now owe my mom $180.

Stay tuned. I’m sure there will be plenty more of these posts in the future.


One of the great things about going to the beach is getting away from the world. While on the island, we watched some TV (The Price is Right every morning and a couple episodes of Rachel Ray), my dad bought a newspaper once (but the front page was quickly thrown aside as he rummaged for the crossword puzzle), and I managed to find a wireless signal and got online to post for the 10 or so of you who are reading this blog. On the whole though, we gladly paid very little mind to what was going on beyond our boardwalk. So, when it came time to pack up on Sunday morning and we woke up to 40 mph winds and rain falling sideways, we gave it little thought beyond the moral dilemma of whether to brave the weather and sort the recycling or just throw the whole bag in the trash and “well crap, how are we going to put the cartop carrier on now?”.

We did manage to get the cartop carrier on and check out of the rental house only an hour and a half after the checkout time. The drive back was made with very little incident, save the hour when we were stuck at some Mississippi gas station in the middle of nowhere after my dad locked the keys in the car.

Well (you can probably see how this is going to end), my mom was checking up on the news we missed today and found Claudette. This is what the bay looked like while we were driving over the bridge back to the mainland. And we didn’t even think to be worried about hurricane-like weather. Wtf family.

In other news, this is my new desktop background 🙂

Greetings from the Gulf Coast

After a long trip punctuated by IMG_1699

sermons from roadside bible belt residents,IMG_1700

IMG_1702a trip to the Piggly Wiggly,IMG_1698

and far fewer invasions of personal space than expected, we finally arrived at the beach on Sunday night. Since then, we’ve found little time to do anything else but sleep past noon, munch on peel-and-eat shrimp, watch The Price is Right, sit and relax on the beach, and, of course, throw sand at each other.

IMG_1730(this picture was taken after a perfect shot down the front of Grace’s swim suit by yours truly)

Wish you were here!

Hello World!

I have entered the blog-o-sphere! From hence forth, I shall chronicle the goings-on of this, my semester away from Whitman, on the webpage you now see before you. Here, you may find exciting stories of anything variant from my mundane life, harrowing tales in which I triumph in the face of adversity, the occasional punny attempt at being clever and, when I take the time to upload them, pictures!

At the present, my family is not-so-frantically packing for our annual trip to St. George Island, FL. Scheduled departure time is 7:00 am. Estimated departure time is 4:00 pm. I’ll let you know how that goes. Regardless of when we actually take off from our house (and have passed the forgivable distance during which we can turn around and return to the house when we realize we’ve forgotten something), we have about a 16 hour drive to survive together. That’s 16 hours with my three younger siblings, and my separated mom and dad in a suburban that, despite its tank-like appearance, never seems to be large enough.

Wish me luck.

And while I have your attention, let me direct you to my fundraising page! Over the next 5 months, I will be training for a marathon that I am running to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. And I need your help in raising that money. As many of you know, my youngest sister, Grace, is a survivor of Leukemia. This disease has impacted my family in profound ways, both good and bad. I am running in honor of Grace’s struggle and my family’s experience as we supported her through treatment.

Please tell your friends! Converse with your parents! Email your distant relatives! Blood cancers are responsible for over 53,000 deaths in the United States each year. We need all the help we can get to find a cure. And every penny counts. Please donate.