But It's a Good Sore

Oh.

Oh.

I am going HURT tomorrow. Today was the big Seattle post office softball tournament and we played 4 games back-to-back-to-back-to-back. Our record for the day was 2-2. And while my fantasy of superstardom didn't play out exactly as I'd hoped, I did manage to get on base a couple of times, bat in a couple of runs, and not make any heinous fielding errors. I spent most of my time playing right field and catcher, passably. All in all, as much as I might expect since I haven't played a whole game since I was on my college Arts Chorale team. Note to self: join a softball team next season. You had a great time.

But man. The muscles are reminding me that I have been neglecting the body big-time. And tomorrow is only going to be worse.

Tigers swept the Indians - yay! A's swept the Mariners - boo!

In other news, we are once again a gender-balanced household with the return of our guys. Both had good trips and I'm in awe of the amount of progress Nathan made on his music in one week; we were treated to a concert when we picked him up, and they sounded fantabulous.

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

... but dayum, we're gonna miss our boys. This is a week of firsts for our family, as girlie and I are holding down the fort whilst Stephen is in Boston at SIGGRAPH and boyo is at choir camp in Tacoma. It's his first sleepaway camp, the longest he's been away from the parental units (we'll see him on Weds for visiting day, but we won't bring him home until next Saturday). It's also the first extended time that girlie and I have spent completely alone together... being second-born, she missed out on all that one-on-one stuff.

So. We've planned our meals, done our shopping, and made cookies to take on Wednesday. He called to let us know he's having a good time and enjoyed dinner; she's sleeping soundly in my bed. Laundry and dishes are done, cats and fish are fed, and I'm halfway done with article I have due on Wednesday.

It's very very quiet.

Sleep well, my far-flung family members. Come home soon.

Today's Horoscope

If a project is coming to an end, don't try to prolong its demise. Excitement is coming your way, but you must trust the process of letting go in order to get the most from this time. You may be ready to charge forward, but a little prudence can go a long way. Even if the path looks really wonderful, don't blindly charge ahead until you really know where you are going.

If I'm Dreaming... Please Don't Wake Me Up

55-25.

Let me type that again.

55-25.

With today's win, the Tigers have hit the halfway mark. At 55-25, they are 30 games (!) above .500 which is rockin' enough, but even more significant, for this girl who lived and breathed the '84 season... they've now matched pace with the Bless You Boys.

It makes me honest-to-god weepy, how much I love this team. Detroit baseball is BACK. And like all the great teams in our history, now they have a song!

Who's Your Tiger?

Put Me In, Coach

It's happened. I knew it would, eventually, but I didn't expect it would be today. And I didn't expect it would be the mailman.

I have been discovered.

Not whilst sipping a soda like Lana Turner at Schwab's, more like... oh the hubris of even making the comparison... ah what the hell. Like Honus Wagner (greatest shortstop ever for those of you who aren't baseball fans) throwing rocks across a trainyard. Signed on the spot he was. But in my case, it wasn't rocks, it was an actual baseball, and it wasn't a trainyard but instead the sidewalk in front of our house during my near-daily catches with Nathan.

You see... I have some mad baseball skillz that are readily apparent to anyone with eyes and a brain. Or at least to my mailman, who is recruiting more women for his postal service softball team. And damn it, that's good enough for me. When he said "Would you?" I of course said, "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!" In retrospect, I think that scared him a bit, but I'm sure as he reflects on it he'll realize it was simple heartfelt enthusiam and love of the game.

I have dreams - oh, I have dreams. I'll certainly play shortstop, turn double-plays with ease, bat solidly near the middle of the lineup, and be carried off the field on the shoulders of my grateful teammates as I'm unanimously voted MVP after we win the leaugue championship. Pitchers will fear me. Batters will curse my fielding prowess. Players from other teams will try to woo me away (And other teams, if you're reading, let me nip that one in the bud. These people are postal workers. We don't want to piss them off, mmmkay?)

I hope we get uniforms. I'll wear high socks. High socks look SO cool.

The time is at hand. The world... erm... greater Seattle area is ready.

I will... I will rock you.

Happy Bloomsday!

Damn. Yet another year has gone by without me organizing my Bloomsday reading of Ulysses. One of these years, I will put out the call to any Seattle folk who would like to get together to read the book from start to finish. I did it only once, in college, and it was a very cool experience.

That's horribly English major geeky, isn't it?

yes I said yes it is Yes.

Blognnui No More

Someone really needs to update this blog, don't you think?

I see.

I guess since noone else is stepping up to the plate, it's all mine.

I honestly have no good excuse for the lack of time spent here, the lack of time spent writing PERIOD. Are things busy? Yeah, sure, what's new? Has *nothing* of note happened for the last few months? Well of course it has - there's been plenty to write about, several posts started and abandoned. I traveled to Peru, got my own monthly byline, was horrified by a massacre that happened at a house I know and love, watched my Tigers get off to an amazing start. My kids' baseball seasons have come and gone (Nathan's team made it all the way to the championship game before losing in a nailbiter), and we're just one week from the end of their school year. BJ and Tyler won the Amazing Race (TTOW!). My work-life has changed and more changes are on the horizon, my friends are having babies, and I watched a bear eat roadside dandelions at twilight.

Don't even get me started on politics.

So much prime blog fodder, the details now slipping into the muddled soup of the past, the emotions dampened, the edges blurred. Baby, once it's gone it's gone, gone all the way gone.

I saw Peter Mulvey last week at the Tractor, and as always happens with good music, and with Peter's in particular, I felt alive and smarter and desperate to make more of my time here, to create something that means something. I want to travel, to experience new places and people and things. I want to make beautiful things. I want to stop spinning all the time and to be where I am, not where I was or where I want to be.

So with two feet, I jump in here again and promise myself to let go of the guilt of the stories I missed telling. Grab the now and go.

Because these days it's all about the monkeys.

Dance Groundsfolk! Dance!

Dance Groundsfolk! Dance!

Testing blip.tv blogging!

Formats available: Quicktime (.mov), Flash Video (.flv)

This video was originally shared on blip.tv by monagrrl with a No license (All rights reserved) license.

I Love Being a Mom

Okay, yesterday was the Best. Mother's Day. Ever. The kidlets made me all kinds of sweet cards and pictures, stories and painted rock paper weights. We ate blueberry muffins, listened to the Tiger game (Tigers won! So did the Mariners!), ran a couple of errands and cleaned the garage while Stephen put some insulation in the attic to help keep the upstairs cooler. While manual labor might not sound like a great way to spend Mother's Day, it was exactly what I wanted to do... we've had so little time to spend on the house that all I asked for was a day of it with no complaints from kids that they were BORED.

Later in the day we did all go down to the park and Nathan got back on his bike a year after first removing the training wheels (with marginal success). After some initial stubbornness (on both mother and son's part), he started pedaling and didn't look back. The boy can now ride a bike and I am very proud.

We ended the day with salmon on the grill and a picnic in the backyard. Well, we actually ended the day with baths for two very grimy kids. Slept well, they did.

In keeping with the bike-riding theme, this poem came into my mailbox this morning. Made me predictably weepy.

Learning the Bicycle
by Wyatt Prunty

The older children pedal past
Stable as little gyros, spinning hard
To supper, bath, and bed, until at last
We also quit, silent and tired
Beside the darkening yard where trees
Now shadow up instead of down.
Their predictable lengths can only tease
Her as, head lowered, she walks her bike alone
Somewhere between her wanting to ride
And her certainty she will always fall.
Tomorrow, though I will run behind,
Arms out to catch her, she'll tilt then balance wide
Of my reach, till distance makes her small,
Smaller, beyond the place I stop and know
That to teach her I had to follow
And when she learned I had to let her go.

I'm not sure I needed to know this

But I am sure that I want to share it with you.

My Eyeball Just Fell Out of Its Socket. What should I do?

I found the link to this informative and somewhat squicky article on Literally, A Weblog - a fun place for those of us who include among our pet peeves the boneheaded misuse of words and phrases.