Weekend Happenings

1. Bubby has taken to getting the banjo out every time "guitar hero" is played and enjoys jamming with whoever is playing. Today he cracked us all up by getting a yellow stocking cap (of MIa's) and putting it on while I played ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE. "I'm bein' Slash," he told us.

2. The deck is lovely. We had noodles and company on it tonight (along with a few. . . glasses of yellow tail pinot noir). Ryan Fuller has his faults but the deck he made for us is really a wonderful thing.

3. Matt told me tonight that he thinks that Bub needs a brother. I asked him if he would be opposed to "rolling the dice" one more time, even knowing full well that it is possible if not likely we would conceive another girl. He said to let him mull it over for a while. To this I say, SO YOU'RE TELLING ME THERE'S A CHANCE.

hmmmm.....

4. I am reading a really random, exceptional group of books right now. LITTLE WOMEN, which i've been reading for a good couple of months now, has really taken a major turn for me lately and I find myself both crying and rejoicing at the sisterly events as they occur. I really have to say I love the stupid book and since I've been reading it, the kids have taken to saying, "MARMEE," which I think is hilarious. With any luck I can get them to start calling ME that full time. The other one I'm almost finished with is DESPERATION, which I have in my locker at work. I read it on my breaks and I'm about 3/4 of the way through. It's damned creepy, not that I expected anything less, but the more I read of Stephen King, his son, Joe Hill, or any author who has more than a few "works" out there, the more I realize that writers, much like actors, are very VERY self-absorbed and self-aware. There are items that King writes about, about being a writer, about being a father and husband that are so totally HIM that I just have to laugh. (not that I'm saying I'm any different or better, I'm not.)

Reading someone's book is very much like reading their own private diaries.

More on this later on.