Scene (slightly paraphrased)  from the kitchen the other night, as I was obsessing over my fiction experiments for the umpteenth time:

Shoemom: You just need to write about your life, no matter what. It doesn't take that much - look at Jane Austen, that's all she did, and she got to be one of the greatest writers ever.

Me [trying hard to keep a ( Read more... )

The most hideously ear-sporking holiday song EVER in the HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE is that Jose Feliciano thing - can't really even call it a song, because all he does is like "I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas!" over and over and OVER until you are CHEWING PIECES OUT OF THE CAR SEAT ARRRRRGH.

...The only redeeming feature this thing has is that, ( Read more... )

So it occurs on re-read that during the previous entry I may have left the impression that life @ Shoe Central is one long hopeless slog through dull beige despair, broken only for periodic rambles about Agatha Christie. Well, um...sometimes I also ramble about Rex Stout.

OK, OK. As long as there are cameras, there will be bright spots in life...


( Read more... )

 So it occurs to me - sitting here with a comfortable stomachful of ribs, having caught up on all the family gossip - I might have been just a wee bit hard on the Shoe clan, yesterday. I'm not such a snob as can't appreciate their kindness and warmth; nor the generosity with which they scatter same hither, yon...and home-made BBQ sauce. Mmm ( Read more... )

 So I'm typing this from my Granshoes' ancient 256MB Random Small-Town Computer Store Build, which gets no further attention from year to year except when my preteen cousins are jonesing for the Jones Brothers.

It's not that my grandfather is afraid of new technology; simply utterly, serenely conscious of having lived 85 years without it. A snappy ( Read more... )