Category: Futile

Saint Duane

Some days, parenting feels so ridiculous. I hate it when I fall into the parent cliche. Stressed out, messy house, broken door handle and the logistics of a one car family when that one car needs to go to the garage. In getting that car (we call her Snoopy) to the garage, I managed to offend everyone in my path this morning. “I’m in a BAD MOOD” was my only excuse. Just need to get to coffee. Please, have mercy on my frustrated throbbing soul.

Anyways, we hope Saint Duane repairs our car with minimal expense to us. God bless him and his trusty staff of foreign car experts.

Sweet Routine

Ah, back to the drudgery of routine. I love it. Coffee at 5:30 (that’s morning, not evening Rachel), waiting for Rhen to wake up and start my day for real. Public Radio is on and droning, “Habitat for Humanity, blah blah blah, support for NPR, greater good, blah blah blah.” We’re not members because we’re broke we can’t fit it into our budget. But Barbara F. is paying our share right now, and we’ve talked to her about it, and she’s cool with it.

Looking forward to getting out with Rhen this morning and taking some shots. Looks to be a fabulous day. This is the week we were waiting for all mushy spring and sweltering summer. Its that one pristine week in autumn when everything about Minnesota and its oddball uneven seasons are justified. I believe the word in everyone’s mind is “glorious” and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration. Fall is here, but it doesn’t stay for long. Soak it up.

Content

Leaves drop outside from the fall rain. My son is sleeping snuggled next to me in the hippy sling and Death Cab For Cutie plays in the background. A strong cup of coffee and my iBook keeps me warm and happy. I don’t have to work and “Lost” is on tonight. Does it get any better than this? I think I’ll take a nap, shortly. Today reminds me of my favorite poem by James Wright. I know I’ve posted this poem before in the past, but it’s a favorite.

Lying in a Hammock on William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota

Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,
Asleep on the black trunk,
blowing like a leaf in green shadow.
Down the ravine behind the empty house,
The cowbells follow one another
Into the distances of the afternoon.
To my right,
In a field of sunlight between two pines,
The droppings of last year’s horses
Blaze up into golden stones.
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.
A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
I have wasted my life.

Cooler Weather

Okay, I have a serious Flickr problem. Wake up. Drink coffee and go for walk. Bring camera because you just never know when you willl need a picture (when I say “you”, I mean “I”)! Everything is a little piece of art waiting to be photographed. Actually I just want to be showcased in the “Interestingness” portion of the site and then I will give up this sick disease. Flickritis. In fact last night, I actually found someone I know on Flickr. Just randomly searching the recently uploaded. You see, I spend way too much time on it.

Today we have swim lessons and then–shopping? Later tonight C. and I are going out for dinner. Rhen will be babysat by my parents. Looks to be a great weekend.

Another day and I will go mad

Answer me this, so when did Minnesota becoming the fucking gnat capital of the world? I have a baby that is gassy and teething and if I can’t get out for a walk with the guy I’m might well put the gun to my head now. Gnats everywhere! It’s fun plowing the stroller through heavy clouds of them. I love picking those little shits off of my baby’s twenty dollar Gymboree cable knit sweater with hood. And why does Rhen have the most violent gas everytime Christi has a cheeseburger the night before at Culver’s? I need answers! Rhen needs relief! We want out!