I touched a cat tonight. I'll never do that again. I have welts all over my arms from the vile creature. Truthfully, I like cats, but I can't be near them, so I hate them.
Jason rode his bicycle from Ft. Wayne to Indy to surprise my dad for Father's Day. 120 miles, that crazy nut. He's a machine; he's always been a machine. At age 5 I saw those machine eyes. I run 3 miles up hill and I feel accomplished. Phooey. He was sitting on the couch at my dad's when we arrived, drinking a beer, all "Hey guys." He's lucky we still speak to him.
Of late, I chopped down a Hawthorne tree; hack-sawed a crab apple tree; helped plant the weeping cherry that Sam and I got Matt for Father's Day; stood on a ladder whacking bushes; planted rhododendruns, hibiscus and tons of perennial flowers, and I'm just getting started.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Chabon
Wow, a free moment.
Just got back from sunny, wonderful California. A little different this time, but still great. Sam surfed with Matt at Newport Beach. There is little this boy won't try, doesn't know, or doesn't figure out in about 2 minutes. He not only talks in complete sentences, but complete concepts, too. His grandparents were amazed at his progess since last time.
I'm unpacking boxes in our new house, and reading Michael Chabon's new book on fatherhood. If there is one person I'm allowed to be in love with besides Matt, it's Michael. Matt is allowed to love the spokeswoman for Electrolux (at least she's blonde); I would never settle for an actor...gotta be a writer. Every word of Chabon draws me in.
We're busy growing a garden, playing with Nerf guns, and I bought Sam his first (as if there will be many) sword yesterday. Life is pretty simple. Matt is proving to be the best dad ever. I mean, really, he's pretty darn good.
I'm so sick of airplanes, layovers and flatulence surrounding me with no hope of an escape. God, it's a long way to Cali. We're tired (except Sam!) and must go to sleep early.
Just got back from sunny, wonderful California. A little different this time, but still great. Sam surfed with Matt at Newport Beach. There is little this boy won't try, doesn't know, or doesn't figure out in about 2 minutes. He not only talks in complete sentences, but complete concepts, too. His grandparents were amazed at his progess since last time.
I'm unpacking boxes in our new house, and reading Michael Chabon's new book on fatherhood. If there is one person I'm allowed to be in love with besides Matt, it's Michael. Matt is allowed to love the spokeswoman for Electrolux (at least she's blonde); I would never settle for an actor...gotta be a writer. Every word of Chabon draws me in.
We're busy growing a garden, playing with Nerf guns, and I bought Sam his first (as if there will be many) sword yesterday. Life is pretty simple. Matt is proving to be the best dad ever. I mean, really, he's pretty darn good.
I'm so sick of airplanes, layovers and flatulence surrounding me with no hope of an escape. God, it's a long way to Cali. We're tired (except Sam!) and must go to sleep early.
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