ttc rides and the beginning of march
Riding on the streetcar I overhear a conversation between a father and his two kids of about eight and ten years old. He seems to be attempting to convince them that they will have fun with their mother, to where they are presumably on their way. The boy (the younger of the two) protests that they don’t get to do as much fun stuff like going to the zoo when they are with mom. The father doesn’t buy this and suggests various activities that they could do with mom. The boy continues to protest. The dialogue ensues:
father: get her to read to you.
brother: she’s sick
father: she can still read to you
brother : she cries all the time
sister: not all the time
brother: yeah she does, she’s sad.
father: she’ll be fine. don’t worry. Hey sing a song from rock band.
Without hesitation the boy belts out a “Weezer” song to which he only knows part of the lyrics and a fraction of the melody. An apt distraction.
What is home to these children?
January and February are the hardest times of the year for me. It might be a little bit of seasonal disorder - the dreary weather, the short days - but it feels more likely that its the time of year when things are pre-programmed to detonate. Something always jumps up and bites me in the ass. I find it difficult to write at this time, motivate myself, to do anything really. It’s a slow trek to the finish line, which is March, the beginning of spring and the beginning of recovery.
Hello March.
father: get her to read to you.
brother: she’s sick
father: she can still read to you
brother : she cries all the time
sister: not all the time
brother: yeah she does, she’s sad.
father: she’ll be fine. don’t worry. Hey sing a song from rock band.
Without hesitation the boy belts out a “Weezer” song to which he only knows part of the lyrics and a fraction of the melody. An apt distraction.
What is home to these children?
January and February are the hardest times of the year for me. It might be a little bit of seasonal disorder - the dreary weather, the short days - but it feels more likely that its the time of year when things are pre-programmed to detonate. Something always jumps up and bites me in the ass. I find it difficult to write at this time, motivate myself, to do anything really. It’s a slow trek to the finish line, which is March, the beginning of spring and the beginning of recovery.
Hello March.