Building Castles on the Beach

But this is Blogland, and in Blogland hiatus can mean whatever you want it to mean. I really don't have much to say today, except that I've decided I'm putting the blogging on low priority for the next two weeks. As I've said, school is up and coming, and I need to do some kind of prep work. At the very least I need to read those books I'm supposed to teach. Plus, I need to start keeping better hours. Heading to bed after midnight and getting out of bed  sometime between eight and nine in the morning when the baby wakes isn't going to help me in two weeks. I also need to do some house reparations. Just small things like touch up painting and patching holes in walls and preventing leaks in faucets. I can do the others, but I hate plumbing. Why don't they teach plumbing in school? Who cares about  Lord of the Flies when your bathroom sink remains stopped up for six years and the procession of plumbers can't figure out why. But I procrastinate. I tol...

This summer I was supposed to read the eight books that I will be teaching this next school year. So far, I've read one. And my summer's pretty much over. Teachers start back at school on August 2 this year (and if you think that's early, last year we were back to school in July). So I have two weeks to read about eight books. Not to mention all the other household chores and writing goals I might have had for the summer. What follows is a list of books I have read this summer. A couple of them I started reading long ago. Some of them I read in a quick bout of concentration. I usually have several books going at once, so don't judge me on my sluggish readingness. I'm particularly proud of the variety of genres on this list: Non-fiction essay, science-fiction, YA science-fiction, literary international fiction, memoir/humor, science-fiction, and general (perhaps literary if you're not too snobby) fiction. See? It's not all sci-fi. I'm in the process...

I up and decided to participate in today's Independence Day Flash Fiction Blogfest hosted by Ali Cross . The prompt is:  "It's Independence Day and something unexpected happens . . ." And it's supposed to be no more than a 250 word piece of flash fiction. Mine is 254 words. I hope that doesn't disqualify me or anything. This took me nearly 17 minutes to write, so please keep an open mind. You're always welcome to tell me I suck if you have a good reason. The year has taken it’s toll. Father’s posture is worse and his hands are dry and cracked. He might have left a fingernail somewhere in the last batch of bottles he cleaned. He knows that this chore will be over presently. No more bottles to wash. No more waking nights feeding a crying child. But Father hopes he has a few more days with his son. He looks down at his hands, gray from the dishwater, and wipes the sweat from his brow. Each night gets more difficult to stay up like this. He closes hi...

But I am, after all, irresistible AND sweet. I didn't want it to get out, but what are you gonna do? Gail at Chasing after the Stars  sent me this blog award. She added the Stylish Blogger award with it (which I already have and am pretending wasn't included), and she answered questions from the Blog Tag thing that's been going around like the plague an amusing playground game. (And if you don't know how I feel about tagging, read this . My tongue is firmly planted in my cheek.) Plus, strawberries. As with most blog awards, I'm supposed to tell seven things about myself. So, let's play a game: One of the following statements is a lie. See if you can spot which one. (If I get enough comments down below, I will reveal the secret answer, so check back often.) 1. I own almost 4000 musical albums. 2. I don't like dogs. 3. I've never read Jane Eyre . 4. There are nuclear-powered squirrels in my backyard. (Remember I said one of these is a "lie...

The boy would not fall asleep. He wasn't crying or fussing or hungry or overtired or upset in any way. He just wouldn't go to sleep. In fact, he seemed happier than ever. He was pleasantly playing with toys and rolling around and talking and humming and giggling. As if he were, in the immortal words of Chief Wiggum, hepped up on goofballs. Usually Xander's asleep around 7:30. Sometimes it takes some doing. Like an extra bottle. Or a tight wrap. Or a time in his swing (which we reserve for daytime naps). Or just a standing rocking motion while his parents finish watching The Wire . And always it's obvious that he's tired. No more playtime. A bit of whining and fussing. Fists rubbing at the eyes. This is what he should have been doing. But not this time. For about four hours, Xander behaved like it was the first time his parents allowed him to stay up late and he was going to take full advantage. We tried everything. At about 6:00, we fed him his dinner of ...

Every time I hear the phrase "out of commission" I can't help but think of Han Solo's line from Star Wars : "Let's hope the old man got that tractor beam out of commission or this is going to be a real short trip. Okay, hit it!" So, anyway, not that the above has anything to do with anything, but I've been out of commission for most of a week due to severe vacationing. Nothing especially noteworthy happened, and I think that's the way I like my vacations. Just get away, hang out, read a lot, golf a little. That's all I ask. The pond at Avon, Colorado, where you can paddleboat in the rain. It was a massive reunion. Thirty Wescotts (two parents, six offspring and their spouses, sixteen grandkids) converged upon a large chalet in Avon-upon-Vail, Colorado, for a week of relative closeness, which in my family means light gossip, wicked banter, and surface revelations about how life really is. The most profound item revealed to me: I will f...