An Update…

I am doing well (far better than I deserve, anyway), and am anticipating Very Big Things in the Very Near Future. As in, I will soon (at some point next month, odds are) be a Grand-Cuttle.

Everything is going well (all digits, appendages, and tentacles crossed), and Cuttledaughter is amazing.

I am buying books for the little one, and reveling in the memories of what this book was for me as a child or as a parent. I have two books that I think (no, I know) are terrible—just atrocious writing, just painful to read—but which were Cuttledaughter’s favorites. I have classics. I have newly recommended books that look wonderful. (Not too late to make your own recommendations in the comments below! I am especially interested in books like my parents collected, books from around the globe, from different cultures, sometimes in different languages.)

And I am looking for other things, like music, or art, or stuffed animals, or *anything*. Again, please, feel free to recommend in the comments.

And Cuttledaughter is looking for something specific. Seen on an app currently under congressional investigation, a Cephalopodean outfit for a very small human. (I will try to post a pic). If you have any leads, I would be happy to chase them down. If it is a pattern… I can sew.

I don’t have a verse for you today… although, oddly enough, I did dream of one recently—reminiscent of the Cat in the Hat, it was several stanzas of The Newt in a Suit. I have great difficulty remembering my dreams, but it seems to me, vaguely, that it was an environmentalist number, not in the league of the Lorax or Oobleck or anything, but in that direction. But about water shortages. So now you can go and imagine your own version. I, myself, am getting ready for another generation.

And I am going to fight like hell to make the world a better place, for her and for all the others.

Be well, my friends. I miss writing here much more than you miss reading it. Maybe soon??

Death’s Little Helpers

As I watch the people protest
And I read the homemade signs
I decipher what they’re thinking—-
I can read between the lines—-
As they shout their catchy slogans
Till they’re nearly out of breath
What they’re saying (and not saying)
Is quite simply “I choose death” [Read more…]