I have absolutely nothing to say. Well okay, I always have something to say. Let’s change that to – I have absolutely no desire to write. Wait, also not true. Hmmm . . . how about – I’m lazy. Yep, that one works.
Things have been really quiet lately. Which is nice. Any free time I’ve managed to hoard is spent curled up on the couch reading a book. Which is also nice. Last night, for example, the little man and I read an article about privacy and medical issues in records from early twentieth century juvenile reform institutions while the rest of the family was at cheer practice. I enjoyed it, but he found it conspicuously lacking pictures. Aside from nerdy archival stuff, I’m reading Bark by Lorrie Moore (fiction, short stories, 2014)* and Speak Now: Marriage Equality on Trial by Kenji Yoshino (nonfiction, 2015). My goal this year is to up my fiction intake by alternating fiction and nonfiction selections (or, more likely, reading one of each at the same time).
My nonfiction to-read list is constantly growing. Currently, in no particular order –
–Partly Cloudy Patriot by Sarah Vowell (2002, used an audible credit to get the audiobook)
–The Physiology of Taste: Or Meditations on Transcendental Gastronomy by Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin (1825, on my bookshelf)
–1919, The Year of Racial Violence: How African Americans Fought Back by David F. Krugler (2015, on my bookshelf)
–Ghettoside: A True Story of Murder in America by Jill Leovy (2015, on my bookshelf)
–Grunt: The Curious Science of Humans at War by Mary Roach (forthcoming June 2016, preordered)
–Tomorrow Is Now by Eleanor Roosevelt (1963, on my bookshelf)
And those are just the ones that float to the top of the pack. If you open up my library ebook to-read section, that list would instantly triple in size. On the other hand, my fiction list is small and I’m fishing for suggestions. Currently, in no particular order –
–Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts (2014)
–Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy (1877, slowly working my way through the audiobook)
–Gillespie and I by Jane Harris (2011, a gift from the LibraryThing’s SantaThing)
Leaving books behind for the moment, sort of. I have a couple of new projects in the works. One is an article I’ve been trying to write for a while about a local women’s group. It is time to sit down and finish it, so I imposed a February 28 first draft deadline on myself. I’m not a big drafter (I edit as I go), so it should just need cleaning up at that point. The other I’m not going to talk about because it is just an abstract concept for the moment. I’m pretty excited though.
This is our last week of cheering at basketball games. I am beyond excited. It’s not that I’m not glad my kid is in an activity she enjoys (and she does really, really love it), it’s just that this kind of schedule doesn’t really fit with our family dynamics. In other words, it is a bitch to keep this kind of schedule, keep up with the little man, and keep your sanity. A big factor in this is the lack of school buses to transport the kids to the games . . . . meaning every single away game requires a parental figure (the husband). One parent (me) has to stay home with the little man and hold down the fort. Let’s just say I’m not sad about getting a break for a bit.
I went to the first weekend of a large estate sale last Sunday and managed to avoid buying a wonderful set of dishes and at least a dozen different drawing and paintings. However, I did not manage to avoid walking away with a sculpture of a nude bather that now lives on my dining room table. Because where else would you put a sculpture of nude bather? And now I can’t go to the other weekends of the estate sale because I spent enough money. I couldn’t help it though; I love it. L-O-V-E, love it.
Last week the little man said, “Yeah, I’m going bye-bye.” Clear as a bell, would have been understood by anyone in the room. That is officially his longest sentence (beating out, “Here you go.”). It is absolutely encouraging when he has these little successes. My biggest dream for him is to gain the ability to successfully communicate verbally. Some days it is hard to keep working at it and working at it, but then something like this happens and it just lights up the room. It probably is time for another blog posts about the ups and downs of special needs parenting. The illness of his first few years is gone, so our parenting dynamic (I’m not even sure what I mean by that, you just make something up) has shifted.
*Confession: This book was a gift and I’ve already read half of it, but until typing this out just now I thought it was called “Lorrie Moore Bark.” The words are all evenly spaced on the cover and all looked the same color in the dim evening light at home. I literally thought the dog pictured on the cover was name Lorrie Moore.