I am from berry picking summers and flashlight pages under covers
I come from a banana seat bike with a clothes pinned Jack click it clack it on the spokes as it flew freely through the town
It’s been three years now since my older sister died. She discovered a brain tumor during COVID and they did almost nothing at first, likely because at the time, getting a surgery the required overnight stay was nearly impossible. Surgery was too late to prolong her life. She
She would die. It seems like yesterday and it seems like long, long ago. Time is like that for me. Inconsistent. Fleeting. Unmeasurable.
It’s my birthday in a few days. I will be older than she was when she died. I’m already older than my dad when he died. Death feels real.
I will be 60 on the 8th. Not as old as I thought 60 to be back when I was in my 30s.
I want to see our youngest son graduate, move on, find someone special to spend the rest of his life with. Find a path to financial stability doing something he doesn’t hate.
New growth awaits
Do you ever just want to put down your book, because you know the villains are unfairly plotting against the hero and you're just tired of their meddling ways and don't want to keep reading because then they get to accomplish their do-baddery?
I have to push through. Sigh
Clash of the Titans. The Greek Gods constantly watched people and instantly acted at every slight. Why? Sorry, guys, you aren't that special. If I'm an Olympic god, I'm gonna be enjoying myself. I will punish in an arbitrary and capricious fashion. Because you are ants.
I'm the singing I.T. Person. That is my Thing. Singing helps me figure things out, it calms me when things are frustrating, and It's something I have to suppress to not do, rather than consciously sing as I work.
Hurt my heart not at all when a guy told me I was a terrible singer. I told him our relationship had changed. Sang “you used to bring me flowers, you used to sing me love songs....but used to Be don't count anymore..."
Singing is what I do.
It's part of the whole package.
CoS age 11
Daily routine: ❤️ tells Child of Surprise to call me to dinner. CoS stands at the bottom of the stairs and yells "FUUUUUUUD!"
Tonight it was "Objects for consumption!!!!"
I'm all " Food?"
he's all "yep"
Dreamt of a pet hospital with a special room for your frog to lie in the grass and chill out to the gentle vibrations of a large drum. There were also places where your pet alligator could bask. I woke up after losing my balance and falling into their pool.
State of Washington — secure mail in/ drop box voting since 1991. Plus we still get the sticker. Also? A Q code so we can trace our anonymous ballot through the system.
Thought we might be getting a new furnace for Christmas this year. Just paid someone to show us the on/off switch.
So. Less apprehensive, warmer, and Masters of the On/Off Switch.
Switch was hidden behind camping gear on our shelves in the garage. On the wall. Don’t judge.
He’s conspicuous. He’s the only Brad Pitt around. I don’t see any other Brad Pitts or Matt Damons—do you?
❤️ that’s Leonardo DiCaperio
Oh. He’s good. He’s very good. I guess there WAS another Brad Pitt
❤️ No. There’s just one. And it’s Leonardo Dicapero.
- Prosopagnosia
Age 7, the Child of Surprise was impressed on our vacation, with the idea of finding a wish rock and throwing it into Salish Sea.
Poem he wrote in his Journal:
Oh Boy you Have Powers
One eye the SuN
The other the Moon
The Sea He’s Done
GOOD it will change
Your Life forever
At age 4, the Small Child of surprise: had a sheep puppet. Suddenly pulled the puppet off his hand and made his bare hand say, "I'm a sheep skeleton!" and then waved the puppet around saying "I'm boneless!" So....now we know for certain that Heart is the father...