Wednesday, June 22, 2011

the Scriber gene

Some of you may or may not know, but I'm a Scriber.  Which means I'm kiiiiiiiiiiiind of a big deal where I come from.  Naw, just kidding... sort of.  It's my maiden name, which has now become my middle name because I just couldn't bear giving it up when I got married.  Being a Scriber is a pretty special thing.  My dad is one of 9 children:  7 boys and 2 girls.  [Henceforth to be referred to as, "the 9"].  They all grew up in a tiny house in a tiny town.  The extended family is ginormous because all of the 9 are now grandparents.  I love having a huge family.  To this day, the family all still gets together.  Sure, there are some folks missing from the action every once in a while, but, that happens when the extended family stretches from California to Florida, up to Colorado, and down to Louisiana.  There is really only one word that can describe what it's like when there is more than one Scriber in a room:  Loud.  Scribers are by nature social people, that's what I'm referring to when I say the "Scriber gene." [I'll give credit where credit is due.  My cousin MB coined this term.]  It's what we do.... talk.  and talk.  and talk.  and then eat some good food.  and talk some more.  But we have to talk loud.  I don't know why... it's in our blood I guess.  I can remember when I was very little hearing my dad talking on the phone to someone and hearing him clear across the house.  I can also remember times where someone would drop by the house and my dad would go outside to chat and I could hear that conversation clear as day, too.  And as I got older, I realized I would do the very same thing.  El Cubano will actually stop me mid sentence sometimes and be like, "Shh... you don't have to yell.  I'm standing right here."  And when we are all together watching a LSU football game???  Lawd, have mercy does it get rowdy.
I have truly felt so blessed to be a part of the Scriber family.  Some of my absolute fondest memories of childhood, come from going to the "camphouse" (our hunting camp) as a kid.  We (myself and all the cousins) would ride 3-wheelers and  4-wheelers all through the woods, and then wind up playing kick-the-can all night.  Or until someone laid in an ant bed and needed medical attention.
I love how The 9 are each so giving, caring, loving, generous, hard-working, selfless, and funny... each in their own unique and special way.  I really admire the connection they all have with each other.  They are always there for each other, no matter what the need.  Just two weeks ago, we visited my hometown.  My older sister and her hubby and kids were there too.  (a FULL house, to say the least).  We were all sitting in the living room and one of my dad's brothers just popped by to talk for a few minutes.  No phone call to say he was coming, no planned meeting... just coming by to see what we were up to.  Later that day, my sis and I both said to each other how awesome that was.  That he knew he didn't have to "check in" before coming over and he knew he would be welcome.  It made me wish (even more than I already do) that my older sis and I lived in the same town so we could pop on over to each other's house and see what they were up to.  I don't think that happens too much these days.  But I'm sure glad it does for the Scribers.

Much love,

PS... I promise to post pics of the Scriber fam in the future. I searched for some on my computer but can't really find any good ones.


  1. I didn't know you started a blog! Happy day! I love it- you are a good writer and I like your loud talking voice:)