(no subject)
I have been wanting to update more recently, but our Internet access has once again been unpredictable due to the rain. Rain, rain, rain. I enjoy it. Last night it was a bit ironic, though, that when we lay down to fall asleep, it suddenly stopped. I mean, what's the use of having it rain all day, only to stop when you're about to get all cozied up in bed? Durn it!
Speaking of sleeping, and the rain, we did get one very nice nap in during the afternoon yesterday. Gray light filtering in through the blinds, pleasant thrum of the rain on the roof, warm covers and a snuggly sweetie. The kids were on the couch out in the living room, the TV on but turned down very low. We had the middle two kids this weekend: Rachel and James. I got a big hug around the legs from Rachel when I got home late from work on Saturday, at 8 p.m. She is a little bit Rainman, makes up for her lack of verbal acuity by being so funny and very sweet. I love Rachel. James can be pretty cool, too, but he is more challenging. The kid treats almost everything like it's a major disappointment. Lots of whining. But I think with attention and consistency we can provide him with a better foundation for his emotions. We are slowly getting away from being spoiling machines and approaching a more normal system of adult-child interaction. Spoiling is okay when you are a grandparent or something, but every day the likelihood that we may someday end up being full-time care of these kids grows. Their mother is unreliable and even her family appears to be finally getting fed up with it. So it's probably best that they don't experience a major crash down to earth at the same time as a major upheaval in their lives, if/when that day comes.
I finished Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere yesterday. Once again, the man has knocked me out. He combines the modern and mundane with the mythic so that the mythic is enhanced and becomes more believable rather than diminished. I have a writer-crush on him, big-time. It made me all writerly in the head. On the drive down to Chula Vista to drop the kids off, I sat shotgun. The weather was the perfect complement to the setting of the novel: underground London. All mists and shiny black streets, unexpected gushes of water. My head was a big playground down and back. I do a lot of formulation on long car rides. And in my sleep. The dreams continue unabated. Last night I starred in a porn with George Clooney. We were talking in the abstract about porn movies before bed, is the only reason I can think that it cropped up. I haven't actually watched any in quite a long while.
On to Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, and to find something to nibble so's I can take my antibiotic.
Speaking of sleeping, and the rain, we did get one very nice nap in during the afternoon yesterday. Gray light filtering in through the blinds, pleasant thrum of the rain on the roof, warm covers and a snuggly sweetie. The kids were on the couch out in the living room, the TV on but turned down very low. We had the middle two kids this weekend: Rachel and James. I got a big hug around the legs from Rachel when I got home late from work on Saturday, at 8 p.m. She is a little bit Rainman, makes up for her lack of verbal acuity by being so funny and very sweet. I love Rachel. James can be pretty cool, too, but he is more challenging. The kid treats almost everything like it's a major disappointment. Lots of whining. But I think with attention and consistency we can provide him with a better foundation for his emotions. We are slowly getting away from being spoiling machines and approaching a more normal system of adult-child interaction. Spoiling is okay when you are a grandparent or something, but every day the likelihood that we may someday end up being full-time care of these kids grows. Their mother is unreliable and even her family appears to be finally getting fed up with it. So it's probably best that they don't experience a major crash down to earth at the same time as a major upheaval in their lives, if/when that day comes.
I finished Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere yesterday. Once again, the man has knocked me out. He combines the modern and mundane with the mythic so that the mythic is enhanced and becomes more believable rather than diminished. I have a writer-crush on him, big-time. It made me all writerly in the head. On the drive down to Chula Vista to drop the kids off, I sat shotgun. The weather was the perfect complement to the setting of the novel: underground London. All mists and shiny black streets, unexpected gushes of water. My head was a big playground down and back. I do a lot of formulation on long car rides. And in my sleep. The dreams continue unabated. Last night I starred in a porn with George Clooney. We were talking in the abstract about porn movies before bed, is the only reason I can think that it cropped up. I haven't actually watched any in quite a long while.
On to Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, and to find something to nibble so's I can take my antibiotic.