But enough about me and my idiosyncrasies. Let's put the spotlight on Jilly. She had a few eccentricities up her sleeve as well. Allow me to elaborate...
Any time, any place, Jill audibly and heartily giggled when she did a flip of any kind - whether it be a somersault, a cartwheel, or even a handspring. No matter if it was on land or in water. Consistently, every single time Jilly landed, she let out what can only be described as pure bliss in the form of laughter.
She swore this had always been the case. I think she inserted the laugh track when she learned I can't do any of the aforementioned tricks. (Yeah, that's right. I can't do a somersault. The cat's out of the bag. Let the mocking commence.)
When she concentrated, Jilly poked her tongue out of her mouth. It wasn't a 'say aaaah' extension. It was more subtle...though sometimes it did roll up ever so slightly toward her nose. (I wish I had a picture. My description su-ucks.)
Jilly could spot a spelling mistake ANYWHERE. I'm convinced she didn't find them. They found her. They jumped off the page, menu, billboard, website and smacked her in the face. So often that she began to quiz me as soon as she saw one.
"Quick, where's the mistake?" she'd say to me w/ anticipation.
"Damn it. I don't know. This isn't my game. Let's play something else."
Two long minutes later I'd catch up and point it out.
"Can you believe that?" she'd say. "How does that happen?"
Jilly was an anagram whiz. We often positioned ourselves in front of the radio to listen to, and participate in NPR's Sunday Puzzle. (Yep, we gathered 'round the radio like it was good ol' 1945.)
If it was an anagram puzzle, I tapped out and Jill rearranged those words or phrases in her head quicker than the on air contestants. Really. She just had a knack for it. So, I guess this one is more a knack than a quirk.
She - and this has since been adopted by her daughter - would often start telling me something (eg a story) and I'd often interrupt to let her know she'd already shared this one. No matter. She'd acknowledge your comment and continue on her merry way w/ her story. She wasn't going to let the risk of repetition keep her quiet. She had started. She was going to finish.
Now, if she's aware of this post, as I'm sure she is (I'm convinced she's aware of everything), she's looking at this very short list and thinking two things...
- That's all you've got, Lustberg? Of all my quirks, you're going w/ these? And to that I say, for now, yes. Yes, there are more. But, I'll rely on others to add to the list. Believe me, I could go on...
- For every quirk of mine that you list, you do know you have twenty of your own, right? Yes, I know. I also know this is (y)our blog, not mine. No need to open that can. We could write volumes and volumes of my eccentricities. But, for now, let's just both admit that I have them and that you, Jilly, embraced, supported, and even encouraged them. So, thank you for that.