Taxes. While I sit here, finishing up the taxes Lee completed for the most part this morning, Ray sits beside me in her Ray-sized chair and reads books. She doesn’t have a big enough lap for the larger books to sit steadily, so turning pages is a process: hang onto the page you’re going to […]

Tea. Amazing how a good cup of decaf green tea can perk you right up when you’re not a caffeine addict. In a non-perky way, of course.

Dream. I dreamed that I had just finished spring-cleaining the house we’re in when we moved. Ugh. Well, it was a cool house, the kind of house with a floorplan that allows you to get lost the first time you’re in it. A wandering house. I was mad at everyone else (because I was just

Blame it on tax day. This morning I took a paintball gun and shot the little old ladies selling subscriptions to The Gazette in the lobby of the grocery store. Then I picked up a copy of the Indy. No, I didn’t. But I wanted to. Cutting letters to make them look idiotic so they

Foul mood. Man, I’m in a foul mood today. Man, my foul moods just ain’t what they used to be. Ah, for those angst-ridden years of yore… Many thanks to my spouse and daughter, who make having a foul mood an enjoyable change of pace.

Rule # This one. Dripping sarcasm is a handy rhetorical device used to trick your audience into thinking that which you mock is worthy of being mocked. It’s useful in preventing 1) honest discussion, 2) open-mindedness, and 3) discovery of a shaky opinion, as well as for other worthy purposes. Of course your oponent is

My book. I’ve hit writer’s sludge, a slow period in which you’re not sure if what you’re written is honey or crap. Nevertheless, still grinding along.

Unfortunately, the daily poop occurances have drifted into my shift. For the logest time I enjoyed both relative poop freedom and ghastly stories of The Poop You Missed This Morning. Oh, well…

Inhumane. Lee thinks it’s disturbing to watch our daughter do inhumane things to a baby doll.

When encouraging artistic skills… you must also remember to promote critical thinking. Ray has come into that fine age in which she has begun to see all surfaces as canvases for her pen. She also has come into that fine age where she doesn’t take criticism well. I told her her cubism looked more like