what I do.

Ok. So I am plodding along at my 4th book--this one about a kid mixed up in the world of corporate research tampering, and....sheesh. Well, yeah, that sounds pretty ponderous, I have to admit, but plow on I must in hopes of injecting enough froth that it will make soufflé.

Meanwhile, I’ve realized with definity (is that a word? no. but it should be.) that I absolutely cannot write after 7pm. Hence this blog dross. Because it doesn’t count. I did not click the link for you, now did I?

Olivia is eating apple pie out of the pan. I would not let Jeff do that. In fact, I would try to prevent his cutting the pie with a spoon, which is his preferred style. Cut (well, dig,) with a spoon and plop it in a coffee cup. If anyone ever wonders why I didn’t turn out to be a traditional kitchen mom, well...here is but one clue. Some ducks line up in a row. Some don’t.

Gabe is watching anime cartoons. The computer, running XP, had its regularly scheduled conniption yesterday, refusing to play videos. I asked it to please forget everything it had learned after October 1, and it worked again. I reset the PC while helping Jeff get logged onto Investors Business Daily on the Mac so he could agonize over a recent Lululemon/Athletica stock acquisition. Periodically I utter the following line: One moment please...another customer filed a complaint ahead of you...

But, most happily, I got roughly 2 paragraphs completed on the work of great ponderosity today. It does move like a slug, sometimes not even leaving something as interesting as a trail of shimmering slime behind, but I know from experience that even at such a pace, a book gets written.