i'm done with the afterschool 'destination imagination' hoopla for the boy. my big, 'push it through' event of this year. and we are finished... and the boys won third prize in our region, so that is pretty damn amazing. it was a very exciting day, with a stage walk and all.
and, of course, the let down of it ending, for him, my 8, means that he is sulking unmercifully on the ride home and i almost ditch him by the side of the road.
we made it, but barely.
euphoria last night has made me a headachey mix for this morning but i am up and rallying. i am tired of rallying but think maybe there isn't anything else, really.
i think i've forgotten to make choices for myself for 8 years or so, or maybe i started that when i got married, as a lark... and then forgot.
a deep well.
(jack handy? )
i'm reading a circle of quiet by madeleine l'engle. i'm amazed by how good it is. i think i'm going to have to go read all her books as an adult and see what i can find... her writing is really really good, and it caaaalllls to me. i haven't finished it yet but hope to go slow enough to recollect it all later. a very good sign.
i've also picked up the prayer journal of flannery o'connor... and what i'm surprised by there is that it is too familiar, and i don't want to read it. it is literally her prayer journal, prayers written, god thought of.. .and it pleads, and rambles and discusses, like my inner workings, and i fear it goes contemptuous in my familiarity. i put it down. i have my own work to do, i don't even want to read what work she had to do.
i've also read book two in the chronicles of the necromancer: the blood king, by gail s. martin... because i love me some sorceressing and swashbuckling. just wanted to flush out the reading partridges.
and i'm reading five little monkeys jumping on the bed, multiple times every day. multiple upon multiple.