Mixed Bag

A day of challenges, and wonder, and fun, and irritation....in nearly equal proportions.The weather conspires to make me miserable, seeping again into my joints...and yet I persist in heading out to the Walters Art Museum for a field trip with the homeschooling group I've taken up with. Eternal Egypt is touring, and I am excited. We find rockstar parking, and though we are two hours longer than the two hours we pay for, have no parking ticket when we leave. As I walk in, a woman asks if I have a ticket for the exhibit, and finding that I don't, hands me one. Amazing. The Universe looks out for me again. A side trip with Lisa and company to Beadazzled, and I find pearls for my navel ring, and a tigerseye cube.

Home, in accident-provoking weather, to pick up a scruffy surprise package, whom the kids were overjoyed to see. Me, too, though he seems stressed and unfocused. To Mother's house to snuggle puppies, enduring a phonecall on the way chewing me out for not calling to say I'd be late, something could have happened, she was worried, etcetera. I'm getting damned tired of people chewing me out, and I'm ready to spit at the next one who does it.

Now the bank, then to Alaina's final dance class. She is incredibly flexible, and actually seems a little bit bored, perhaps the pace is too slow for her. Jose and CJ are delighted to see Hawk, though Jose is exhausted and CJ whinges, "I broke my ass!" for the umpteenth time. He, having not heard the story but second hand from me, is appropriately sympathetic.

Back home and Hawk feeds the quadrupeds as I phone for Chinese carryout; in short order we have dinner, intending to do some shopping all together as a family afterwards. I finish two of my four assignments from Steve while waiting for food. It becomes clear very shortly after dinner that taking the kids out is a losing proposition. Hawk goes, leaving me with the children, whom I banish to the basement out of sheer frustration. I hate the holidays. I'd rather have his company than gifts, but he needs to shop for the kids. I choke on powdered molars from grinding my teeth.

Check on my e-mail, mostly nonsense...three more offers to download the Paris Hilton sex video for free, one offer of penis enlargement, and a dating service. A note from my stepmom, an e-vite to my sister's birthday party/open house...and a letter from M, who has NEWS! Why he assumes I'd already know....well.

Nothing from Lit.org. I didn't expect, but I always hope. I know it's taking Crowe awhile to validate the slush pile, but sometimes when I leave comments for people, I get some back, even if it's on older stuff. John Libertus has been really regular in his posts. I should try to keep up, because it's not as though I'm not producing...on the other hand, it feels a bit like vanity, and I wonder at my motivation. Well.

But....M's news: He has just been made Chairman of the BPF! Amazing. I didn't even know he was interested.

From his letter:

I am very excited (and scared to death) and will do my best -- and I am
so glad I know you are there --

You are so very kind to me -- sometimes it makes my chest get all tight
(in a good way) when I read your kind and generous words. I will revel
in my sappiness...

Thanks again, Divine Cat -- for everything.

Wow. Nice stuff, that. And, funny, just when I needed it.

The accident-provoking weather provoked also the following:

From a stony smokestack, milky Chinese dragon emerges sinuous, writhes against the chalk-grey slate. Spit of snow, strike of sleet, spatter of cold rain, sputters, sporadic, stops. Afternoon sky kneads itself into cotton wadding over molten gold of sunset.