So here I am, thinking about what to think about. Writing on writing or listening to someone give a talk on being a good listener. Watching the hands of the clock go tick tick t i c k t i c k on out to infinity. Wouldn't it be crazy if the second hand moved counter-clockwise? And why's it called counter-clockwise? Why not anti-clockwise or double-plus-ungood-clockwise?
I'm making my way through Fragile Things, a collection of Gaiman short fiction and wonders. Here's a link to "The Fairy Reel," a poem that begs to be read aloud over and over again, and best when done by the author himself. I'm also making my way through Maria Tatar's Annotated Classic Fairy Tales as well as her Annotated Brothers Grimm. Oh, and then there's Joanna Cole's Best-Loved Folktales of the World, too. It's been rather interesting.
I spent a few hours last Friday morning discussing some interesting stuff, and after that was over, I went to the coffee shop and spent a few hours reading through The Book of Numbers and thinking about how much God loved the Israelites. Some time later a man sat down beside me and we had a nice, lengthy conversation about the bible, difficult translations, and guitar. "Alas," said I, looking ruefully at my flip flops and the pouring, cold rain outside. "I must be off." And I apparated to the library, where I spent some time leafing through books and working on a short story. I've had ideas for "The Doom of the Salt People" in my head a while now, and since I was off and it was raining and the music was good, I went on and pounded out a bit. Part 1 is available here, if you're interested.
Someone clicked the Next Slide button on the Powerpoint and then I was home, cooking Keisha supper, A) cause I'm sweet like that, B) cause I like to cook, C) cause we ain't had us a date night in a good long time and me cooking seemed like the right thing to do. Grilled salmon, baked potatoes, sliced carrots, and my universally acknowledged, globally accepted three-pasta-four-cheese macaroni & cheese. Some wine would've been perfect, but Keisha's got the darling growing inside her and I can't/won't drink an entire bottle, so we dined with unsweetened tea instead.
We've started watching Fringe (thanks Netflix & library!), and we're both really enjoying it. It's like X-Files meets Law & Order / CSI or something. So far, so good. Somehow, we've still not finished Battlestar: Galactica (thanks Netflix & library!) I think I can only take that show in doses. I love it, but it's so tense and the drama is so emotionally charged that it's quite difficult to take down so many episodes at once.
All I know is that it feels great to have my own guitar back in my hands, y'know? There's just something about the way my baby feels. I know its neck like a good simile. My fingers know what fretboard they're used to. Just how much to move and how much to press. It's all good, now, but it was ungood a week ago. Longer, even.
Yeah, I got my TOMS last night. Alex & Rachael are getting married next month, and as a groomsman, I got a pair of TOMS. TOMS all around. It's the first pair I've ever owned, but they're danged comfortable. Plus, their mission statement is "with every pair you purchase, TOMS will give a new pair of shoes to a child in need. One for One." Quite the awesomeness, methinks. Check out their website if'n you wanna. Mayhap something'll tickle your cat fancy, do ya kennit?
Go wish Dave a happy 500th post while you're at it. Tell him I said hi while you're at that.
Remember me to one who lives there. She once was a true love of mine. I feel like I could go on and on and on here, as an ellipsis shooting off into infinity. I've still not touched on Saturday and its happenings, nor on the fantastic Palm Sunday service we had at church yesterday (yes, there were 4 donkeys, yes there were accidents in the church, yes it was awesome). Yet, an ellipsis knows its place. It cuts itself off at three dots, though if it ends a sentence there should be four.
I'll just wrap it up with this. Breastfeeding class was last Thursday night. I've never heard anyone say "breast" or "nipple" or "mouthful of breast" so much in my life. The class was highly informative and tedious. It easily could've been an hour shorter, but the teacher repeated herself at least three times after every point she made. She'd basically say the exact same thing over and over again, driving home the point until everyone understood it very well, though she would usually rearrange her words or slightly tweak herself. For very important things, the teacher would repeat herself, sometimes two or three or four times, making sure everyone understood what she was saying. It was very informative and mentally taxing.
Still no public revelation on our daughter's name yet, though it is literary, for you wondering minds....