Peaches And Portulaca

This is a picture of Gloria Hultman. I messed with it a bit but you can still see that it is indeed Nana. She never looked like this when I knew her.

She was quite a lady. Her life is a mystery to me even though i've heard plenty of bits and pieces of it. I know that in this picture she was only 14 years old and it's sort of a mug shot for her first job as some sort of department store girl. Apparently she lied about her age...

I was baptized in a bath tub. By none other than Nana. I'm not sure what religion that makes me but I am sure i've attended services at their church at least once. I don't think I was the only heathen child to get an emergency Nana baptism either.

She was a real person. You know what I mean? No bullshit, no beating around the bush, which led to some embarrassing moments for any family members caught in the crossfire. Nana would never walk away from anything - like the time she called me and said she had set up an appointment for me to view the Frank Lloyd Wright house in Montecito. She was just driving by and decided to sneak into a service gate that was left unlocked and wandered around the grounds of the famous author T. Coraghessan Boyle's home until he caught her red handed in his yard. He was furious but of course over the next hour she convinced him to give her a guided tour of the house and the next day, one for me. There are probably hundreds of these "Nana stories". Here are a couple of mine:

- When I was 9-10 years old, my mom, brother and I survived off Neer Beer, sardines, anchovies (in various sauces) and vegemite for short periods of time until Nana brought more. I won't go into the details.

- During the same time period, she tried to sneak me and Travis into the summer Olympics at Lake Casitas. When confronted by police, she dropped Uncle John's (The Sheriff) name as if they would give us front row seats. They didn't.

Nana wrote two books. The first one is called "Peaches and Portulaca". The second is "The Train Doesn't Stop There Anymore", I think it should be published and if no one else does it, I will. Anyone who knew the infamous Nana knows that she could tell a story.

On her 80th birthday in 2001, we had a birthday party for her. It's how I'll always remember her, trying to hit that pinata out in the dark. She was so weak she could barely walk but there she was without even a proper bat, just a broom. And Glen made her a mix-tape of a bunch of old Irish folk songs and Tay-Tay wrote a German ballet and we 1/2 performed it for Nana with me trying to sing in German and Taylor playing piano. RIP Nana.

What in the hell is portulaca? I'll Google it. I wonder if Nana ever Googled anything - I doubt it.