One More Mile…

Okay… random post here.  I’m sort of running on fumes here–hence the title.  (And btw?  If you haven’t heard this song?  I’m sharing it with you now.  It’s beautiful, and I love it–in fact, I used it in Making Promises during Ylena’s last chapter, and it made me cry.

But wait!  There’s more!

*  I’m in the throes of finishing Under the Rushes.  It’s sad and beautiful, and riffing on my favorite theme and trope (tortured hero, final redemption, woohoo!) and I have two thousand words to go.  It’s almost 130K, and I haven’t done anything this epic since Making Promises.  And I’m exhausted.

*  Zoomboy and Squish started school this morning.  I didn’t get a bright and shiny picture, but I did get a picture after the day.  I would like the new and casual observer to pay special attention to Squish’s ensemble.  Yes, she picked that out–the purple plaid shorts, the matching adorable puppy shirt, the jaunty little ponytail, the completely mismatched socks.  “But Squish, we, uhm, have the mates to those…”

“I like them!”  Squish told me.  “They’re good.  They’re almost the same height!”

*  Chicken was enjoying her life of leisure today.  This is her, with her 13 lb. serial killer, the one who provided us with the zombie bird last year and who entertained us all summer by taking ginormous moths into his mouth and letting their wings whirr away like they were gettin’ somewhere!  Yeah.  Gordie.  He’s a psychopath, but he loves her.  At least, I don’t THINK he’s plotting her imminent demise!

*  Zoomboy said to me today, “Mom!  I’ve got a plan!  All I need is some whipped cream and my sister’s badger mask!”

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No, I didn’t ask for particulars.  Sometimes, it’s best not to know.

*  And the string of nights getting 4 hours of sleep began to tell on me today, I am ashamed to say.  Zoomboy started dance two weeks ago.  We went to one class, skipped the next, and then today?  I swore up and down he was in the 6:30 pm class.  Uhm, I was wrong.  Cause, look at him folks, DAYUM that’s a big three year old!

*  And I should have prefaced my last post.  Although the poem was my idea–I had, in fact, written it out loud to Chicken about four days ago, I do owe the title to my aqua instructor, Trina.  She was talking about her son’s cat, who started out by bringing in moths and then moved up to mice and voles, and then up to moles and rats, and then worked her way up to a teenaged jackrabbit.

“I’m telling you,” Trina said sincerely, “we live across from a kindergarten, and I’m gonna be checking to make sure none of those littler kids go missing!”

So thank you, Trina– I’m pretty sure the title made the poem!

And that’s the end for the moment– I’ve got an epic story to finish, and I need one more mile…

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