Excerpt:

The women in Lil's family were mostly crazy. This differed from all-the-way crazy, Lil thought, because they were allowed to live in society, hold jobs, get married, have kids and bake copious amounts of bread, which they would often discuss from morning until midnight, usually while sitting on Lil's mom's porch smoking Benson and Hedges Deluxe Ultra-light Menthols, the most vile of cigarettes.

Consider this:

Gigi, Lil's great-grandmother, insisted on drinking a glass of two raw eggs and Tabasco sauce every morning for breakfast.

Grandma Jean, Lil's maternal grandmother, spent an hour every morning rinsing and re-rinsing her hair with bluing, because, Grandma Jean would say, "God meant my gray hair to be a shiny silver, not a drab ivory." Grandma Jean didn't necessarily believe in God, but would invoke Him (and sometimes Her) when she needed extra credibility.

Betsy, Lil's mother, took boxing lessons every week, from the day she turned 40, but would never deign to actually fight. It was, she insisted, much too violent and, really rather unbecoming.

And the aunts. The hodge-podge collection of aunts, both by birth and by marriage. Lil could never remember who wasn't speaking to whom or which two walked the Oregon trail across Nebraska (in winter, no less), or even how many there were since divorces usually meant the men were at fault, and the ex-wives were still family.

The list goes on. But not here.

Plus, Lil's family viewed death and birth, marriage and divorce in the same manner: These are events to be noted and quickly celebrated (yes, death and divorce, too – since they both happened for only good reasons), but never dwelt upon.

In fact, the only incident of note, the only family scandal – often invoked to scare the younger generations and told during horror story time around the fire – was the one time Lil's Great Grandmother – the venerable Gigi – burnt the bread.