Again with the insomnia

After several consecutive sleepless nights, I finally got some shut-eye last night. However, because I spent most of the evening consumed by my current read, my dreams were intense and haunted.

When in the mood for a novel that you want to be consumed by rather than the other way around, read, A Ship Made of Paper, by Scott Spencer. Wow. It will unnerve you in a literary way.


"...he has lost if not his mind then at the very least his untroubled mind."

Listen to your elders

Well, I'm back.

For those unaware, I was attending my Dad's wedding this past weekend--an obvious challenging balance for me.

But I will spare you my spiritual journey from tantrum to acceptance to say this: I believe God speaks to us through the mouths of people we least expect.

My Dad's bride's mother is a lovely woman from Malta--she has a thick accent and looks like she'd sit you down at her table and feed homemade sauces from vegetables she grew in her garden until your stomach felt full of love, then she'd fix you warm milk and put you down for a nap under an afghan she'd knitted that morning. She's kind, but more complex than her appearance suggests; but knows exactly what is going on.

The morning of the ceremony, she said, "This must be a bittersweet day for you." I nodded, taken aback at her honesty and candor. (I thought I was hiding it well.) She replied, "Know that your Dad is very much loved in this family. He will be taken care of always."

At that moment, I knew he would be. I knew she spoke a truth I had been too afraid to voice or face.


The knowledge of this filled me like that glass of warm milk.

Funny..

...not "Funny" as in Ha-Ha, funny as in curious..

I wrote this column today with some very specific events in my mind, as well as to illustrate a general feeling I've been trying to put into words for some time.

I've received no less than 10 different interpretations of the same story since posting it this morning.

...funny...

Required Reading

My Blogroll isn't very long as you probably have noticed.

There are only a few blogs I read with regularity, for whatever reason that might be. Nesting Ground makes me laugh beyond reason, Motherhood Metamorphosis is a delight, Casetta's makes me cooler just by reading it.

But I am adding a new one to my list. Boggles,Bungles,and Greed is written my an enlightened guy who I feel pretty comfortable calling a friend. He's got some great stuff on there, so you should check it out.

And if among my strange and elusive audience has a little journal they would like to recommend, why I'm all fingers.

Increasingly Hollow Promises to Myself

Now that they are safely tucked away in their classrooms, this is my "What I'm Going to Do Now That Summer Vacation Is Over."

1. Get my increasingly large ass into the gym 3 times a week. I have no more excuses left.

2. Get my increasingly smaller submissions stack out in the hands of editors. I have failed miserably at producing much to send lately.

3. Get my increasingly cluttered house de-cluttered. We need some serious closet space, folks.

4. Get my increasingly large To Do list whittled down to the tens column.

5. Spend an increasingly amount of time in my new kitchen once complete. (I'm reprieving myself until then.)



The opening line of my latest read, More Than You Know, By Beth Gutcheon: Somebody said, "True love is like ghosts, which everbody talks about and few have seen." I've seen both, and I don't know how to tell you which is worse.

School Days

The First Day of School. Here are some initial impressions:

Stevie, Grade 4

*This year, fourth grade boys are eligible to try out for JV Basketball. I have now heard this statement at least 47 times since 3:05 p.m.

*His teacher, Miss E., is hot.


Matty, Kindergarten

*Drawing was the best part of the day.

*He would prefer now to be called, "Matthew." Matty is so preschool. (His teacher now has to change every laminated nametag in the room. She is hot, but for a different reason.)

Amy, Alone for the first time without her brothers

*She slept for 3 hours today because no one was waking her up.

And me, if not an empty nest, a roomy one from 8-3 everyday.

*A whole lot of closets are about to get cleaned, and I'll be spending much of that time at JV basketball, apparently.

School hasn't started yet, and I already miss them

So what is on tap for the weekend before the first day of school, you ask (or don't)?

Well, strep throat has hit one fourth grader in the house, so I am struggling to get the pink liquid down his inflamed throat so he can have a first day on Monday. Most of the details and supplies have been taken care of, so we've just got some last minute things like haircuts--my least favorite chore for the boys.


Matty starts Kindergarten in 2 days--it just doesn't seem possible. He is so excited, and a visit to his classroom yesterday was fun. He seemed so grown-up walking in and sitting at his desk. I had a lump in my throat the whole time.

But later, things balanced again. I put all the kids in separate sleeping quarters to try and ward of transmission of the bug, when I got heard the slapping of flat feet running down the hallway a short time later. A very wide-eyed Matthew just stared at me for a minute, trembling.

"Matty, what's wrong?" I started, jumping out of bed.
"There was just a sad part on Monsters, Inc.!" And he began to cry in earnest.

He was sobbing because the little girl in the movie gets taken away from the big monster she loves.

I cried too, after that.

And, we all slept together last night, strep bug and all.

Work

Sometimes, my easy-peasy freelance job ain't so breezy...

This month, I have some assignments that are either difficult because there's just not a lot to say on the issue, or my interviewees are reluctant, or perhaps dare I say, not-so politely unwilling to speak to me.

I'm not all that bold when it comes to cold-calls anyway, so when there is grouchy grumbling on the other end, I get all sad and defensive. Do they think I'm writing for the Enquirer or Washington Post or something? Hello?!

Ha Ha

Never underestimate the power of laughter.

We went to see an actual movie in the theater last night--non-animated oh joyous night!--and I felt some choly lift from my melon.

Wedding Crashers, was silly, but so very funny when you just need to laugh.

Hide and Seek

I post the following knowing that I have no one to blame but myself. However...

Months ago, I misplaced the only copy to my stupid novel-in-progress while I was attempting to be a responsible writer and make back-up copies of one's life work. (It was an issue between new hard drives and the misunderstanding of what needed to be saved...) Anyway, I thought it was lost forever, since no one knew where the now obsolete floppy had wandered off to, and I had searched the whole house for a paper copy at least.

I had begun the tedious and impossible task at recreating my monster, when what should appear in Sean's briefcase? The little bugger had hitched a ride there from some mysterious desk drawer over there somewhere.

So now I have no excuse to begin work on it in earnest next week when the assignments are in and the boys start school.


And because I stayed up late again to watch, Love, Actually, Here is a quote from that movie. The part where Mark makes the posterboard confession:

"But for now, let me say - Without hope or agenda - Just because it's Christmas - And at Christmas you tell the truth - To me, you are perfect - And my wasted heart will love you - Until you look like this
[picture of a mummy]."

Back, but not really

You can read of my travel exploits, at least half of them, in this week's column.

However, the craw has not been unobstructed.

I really had a great time, but the mystery did not reveal itself along the highways. The mystery did not solve itself in the many pages that I read. Nor was it exposed in the vivid dreams that haunted my unfamiliar hotel rooms. I wrote lengthy narratives in my head; hoping they would be there when at last I had the opportunity to record them on screen--a process I am working on now.

I disengaged in the pointless, the hopeless, the useless...yet.

I still feel...a little out of sorts.

Craws must therefore be appendages of the mind or heart.


Here's a quote from my current read, Wicked, The life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, by Gregory Maguire. "Love makes hunters of us all."

(Excellent read so far, by the way.)

Home Again, Home Again

We have emerged from the car...

I am saving the details of the trip for a column that I hope to get up in the next couple of days, but suffice it to say we are home and had a great time.

We traveled far; saw many interesting places and people, including a family and a class reunion. We really had a fantastic time, but it does feel good to be home after such a long time away. I don't even mind the stacks of email, mail, and laundry I must weed through today.

Did I untangle my ball of yarn? I think so, but time will tell.

More later, dear friends.

He made me love him without looking at me. ~Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte.

(I just finished this one on my trip.)