Yay books!

I'm thrilled to have a new bookcase!  Thanks to Papa and Honey for donating.

It is hard to live deliberately.

It is hard to make reasonable choices as often as we should.

Thus, we all need some compassion.

A lesson learned about being an adult

The difference between being an adolescent and being an adult can be summed up in one's sense of expectations and one's reactions to them.  An adult learns, eventually, that some days (or weeks) are rutted and harsh--sometimes such that one bottoms out completely.  Having learned that, the adult comes to expect that such days will come when they come--usually without fault or special cause. 

What to do about those days that bottom out?  Well, the adult learns to take a while to gather himself, then stand up, brush off the dust, and keep going.  Often it helps to mutter a curse or two to get the blood flowing.

In which Piers gets a little . . . exercised

 I am not an irascible person by nature.  I am not overly confrontational, and I try very hard to give people the benefit of the doubt.  I was taught how to behave.  I have cultivated compassion and empathy to the extent that I'm able.  I also try to remain humble and try not to shoot off at the mouth.

But ye gods, yesterday tested my resolve in ways I've not experienced in a long time.  The hits kept coming from 3:00 until about 5:30.  I know the value of self-control, but I'm afraid that when I'm a bit on the angry side, it tends to show.  Heart on the sleeve and all that.

And then there was Twitter . . . after which I swallowed the rest of it. 

The boys wondered what was up with me.  Sometimes dad has a bad day, we explained.

One more thought about the weekend

I have never been more frightened at a child's sickness than I was on Friday night, as Little Red sprawled on me, fighting for breath, his heart beating incredibly fast.  When The Runner bundled him into the Queen Elizabeth and scooted off to the ER, I was half expecting a life flight to Vanderbilt, and half expecting the Dreaded Phone Call.

When he got home, I grabbed him and pulled him close.  He looked taken aback, and said, "but daddee, I alright!"

Indeed, he was.  Not sure how he does it, but he sure does push my buttons.

Monday Update, Old Pig & New Carpet Edition

No, not in pain . . . just singing happy birthday to us.

So, we had ourselves the 6th Annual Hawks Road Hawg Roast on Saturday.  A full accounting of the festivities would have to describe the midnight trip to the ER by Little Red and The Runner (they were there until about 9:00 am); the concurrent trip to the ER by Honey and Papa (imagine The Runner's surprise when her mother was wheeled in while she was dealing with Little Red); an unexpected conflagration; and Number One Son's birthday party which was held directly before the Pig Pickin proper.

I'm not sure which was the bigger hit:  the pork (which was good, I thought), or Fluffernutter (who had a blast).

It was also a pleasure to watch Number One Son run around for hours & hours, thoughtlessly enjoying himself.

We (he and I) had a birthday on Friday.

Today, and continuing through the rest of this week, there is new carpet being installed in my house (and it's about time, too).  Who knows what shall be found when the old carpet and pad are removed?

Finished the latest by my favorite contemporary author yesterday.  Enjoyed it immensely.  

Traditionally, the weeks following the Pig Pickin have us rolling up the sidewalks and hunkering down for the winter.  We cannot do that this year--too many ambitious plans for the yard.  Too many things still to take care of.  Plus, it looks like the grass is gonna have to be mowed at least one more time.

Actually, there's a hell of a lot to plan for now that we're reaching the end of October.

This is the last day I can legitimately refer to this.

So.

Adventures in Parenting, Vol. 32

From the paperwork that was sent home with Number One Son today. 

Monday Update, Getting Ready for the Pig Pickin Edition

Fall Break was not much of a break for me, but then again, that's not all that surprising, is it?

The weather has turned fall-like just in time for this weekend's event, for which we continue preparations.  As usual, though, most of the work has to wait until the day before/day of.

We have literally no idea how many people are coming.  Not sure we did the best job in the world getting the word out.  Facebook obviously no panacea.

Got official word yesterday:  Fluffernutter is a SHE.  So if we should give her a real name, it will have to be a girl's name. 

The really busy phase of the fall season is about over; after this weekend's Big Event (no tee shirts this year) there's just Halloween, so we can hunker down a little more and watch more TV. 

Speaking of which, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine is finally available on Netflix!  I'm so excited!

There are times when there is so much going on that I find it almost impossible to concentrate on anything.  This is one of those times.

In which Piers Ponders Pants

 I want these herringbone slacks.

I like this company's style, and the fit of their pants.  I'm getting to the age where any old pair of old navy or gap khakis will not quite do the trick.

but at $200?  hmmmm. 


They are nice pants, though.

"Look sir, look sir, Mister Fox sir!"

In which Piers needs his fall break

pressure??  What pressure?

In which Piers tries not to roll his eyes

 In a meeting yesterday, the consultant/facilitator uttered the following words & phrases approximately a dozen times each:

"Steering Committee"
"Task Force"
"Initiative"
"Strategic Goals"
"Move Forward"
"Incentives"
"Facilitating"
"Process"

There is an art in saying so little while using such impressive verbiage.

Hard Play; Good Lines

 Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.
(1.5.40)

No, you unnatural hags,
I will have such revenges on you both,
That all the world shall--I will do such things--
What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be
The terrors of the earth! You think I'll weep;
No, I'll not weep.
I have full cause of weeping, but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws
Or ere I'll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!
(2.4.276-284)

Poor naked wretches, whereso'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou mayst shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just.
(3.4.29-37)

A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled my hair; wore gloves in my cap; served the lust of my mistress' heart, and did the act of darkness with her; swore as many oaths as I spake words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven; one that slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it. Wine I loved deeply, dice dearly; and in woman out paramoured the Turk. False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey.  Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betray thy poor heart to woman.
(3.4.83-93)

When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found 'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go to, they are not men o' their words! They told me I was everything. 'Tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.
(4.6.100-104)

A follow up to yesterday's video

This one is from a few years ago.  When Little Red was, well, littler.  That child has the most uproarious laugh.

Monday Update, What Do You Mean Another Cat edition

I was working on grading a paper yesterday afternoon, when Number One Son burst into the house and shouted, "Sock is back!"  I followed him outside to find Little Red sitting in the middle of the yard with a black and white shorthair in his lap.  It was not Sock.  But was Little Red in love yet again?  Yes he was.  He carried that cat all over the yard--and the cat was remarkably compliant in the face of such treatment.  Fluffernutter was not as impressed.

I do not know if we're back up to three cats now or not.  But I do know that only one is living inside in any case.

Apparently, we've been having flea trouble thanks to Fluffernutter's regular incursions into the house.  Applied treatment to both kitties yesterday and saw almost immediate improvement, including watching one flea in its death agonies on our bathroom floor.  

This weekend, we began making strategic plans for the Pig Pickin.  There are lots of plans to make.

I'm short on news, mainly because last week was such a blitz.  I'm still blitzed, actually.

Need to come up with some new goals.  Short and long term.

Star Student for September

May I present one of the MPS "Star Students" for the month of September.  He'll get his picture in the local paper, and came home with a pencil and a ribbon.

Apparently, he was also given some kind of screening test yesterday for the gifted program at his school.  He was confused about what was going on . . . we assured him that it was nothing bad.

Also:  one of his front teeth has started coming loose.

In which Piers unearths one of his not-so-surprising quirks

This morning, I got kind of a late start.  I went on a bike ride (cold! I hate cold!), and then waited for the runner to get finished with her . . . run . . . and then we went to the coffee shop, and then I came into the office.  I had canceled my 9:30 class, so there was no real rush. 

Except the really weird thing was that because I didn't have that tight schedule this morning, I never really got the engine revved up very high.  I've kinda coasted through the day so far.  Apparently, if I have a slow morning, I have a hard time attacking the day. 

Good thing there's not much to attack today!

Monday Update, Happy Birthday to The Runner Edition

Today is The Runner's birthday.  I've had the boys sing to her multiple times, and she got to open her presents early this morning (so she could use them on her run).

I spent all day yesterday--the part not at church, I mean--grading papers.

Speaking of church, The Runner and I sat through our first "new members" sunday school class yesterday . . . probably the first time in almost a year that we've attended any sunday school class at all.  It was fine.  Did you know that there's an "A-C-T-S" method of prayer inspired by the Lord's Prayer?

Those refs should have caught that fumble return for a touchdown in the 3rd quarter during the Bama-Florida game rather than absolutely blowing the call.  That way, the Gator quarterback would have been off the field and not bent like a pretzel on the next play.  I feel awful for the guy.

Uncle B and the two girls--and Grammie--came for a rare visit on Saturday!  We had a good time.  Little Miss K really liked the kitties.  Little Miss B wasn't too sure about them, especially big ol' Sidney.  That was okay by him . . . he wasn't too sure about her either.

I have expressed some frustration with my colleague before, but this weekend he posted something online that was so inane that I just threw my hands up in exhaustion.  I'm not going to worry about it anymore . . . let Grill be Grill.

I never rest.  It's when you take the time to sit and rest that the tree swallows you; that Orgoglio comes crashing through the underbrush; that you get overtaken and ruined.