Brownies…?

On Monday we had an open house at work. Peggers made the best brownies ever, at least the best since the last ones she made. Since there were so many left over, I felt it would be very helpful of me to bring some home, to aid in the clean up of course. So I rolled a few up in a napkin, stuck them in my bag, and headed out.

When I got home, little man was having dinner. “These would make a great dessert,” I thought. So I put them on the kitchen counter and waited for him to finish his dinner.

When he was done and all cleaned up, I picked him up and walked him over to the counter.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Oh dah?” He responded, curiously.

I unwrapped the napkin and the brownies appeared.

“Poopoo!”

He, of course, refused to eat it (good boy!). It took me about 10 minutes, and several bites of my own, to convince him it wasn’t poopoo. (He laughed at every bite I took.)

Finally, he agreed to a tiny morsel.

“Mmm. Nom Nom. Mor. Mor. Mor!”

So the result of my persuasion that remains to be seen is this: Did I convince him to eat the brownie? Or did I convince him that eating poopoo is nom nom?

Persistence

Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence.
Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent.
Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts.
Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.
~ Calvin Coolidge (1872 – 1933)

MIA

Sorry for being away. I’ve been pretty sick. I managed to drag myself into the office today so I could catch up on a few things, but I don’t expect to last long.

While away I was able to do quite a bit of writing/editing/revising of the children’s book I’ve been writing. I think it’s almost ready to go. I’m just afraid to send it out.

The publishing industry is famous for taking months to even read a manuscript and then they often reject it. So I’ve been exploring the idea of e-books. They are becoming more and more popular, especially with the ubiquity of e-readers. The beauty of e-books is that I don’t need the approval of a big New York publishing house and I don’t have to wait 6 months for a response and another year before it goes to market. I could publish my book…tonight! if I wanted to. I just need illustrations and a little more courage.

Strep

I have it. I think. Went to the doc today and they ran some tests. I’ll find out in a couple days if it is in fact strep. For now I’m taking some drugs and trying not to talk. Fortunately that’s never been a problem for me.

I was so lucky

That’s right. Now I have croup, or at least laryngitis. My throat is sore and very swollen. I have the constant urge to try and swallow something, but nothing is there, just my narrow, constricted airway. My voice is super deep, like a radio announcer. I spent most of the night tossing and turning, repeatedly awakened by the pain, begging the sun to come up to lift me out of my misery and into a steamy shower for some temporary relief. Any suggestions?

Thirty-something

Ugh. It’s official. Today is February 23rd, so I am officially a thirty-something. How nondescript. I’m just…here. Blah.

That was how the day started. Not bad. Not good. Just blah. Ugh. Then I decided that feeling that way is entirely up to me. I’m a grown man. If I want to feel that way, I can. If I don’t then I should do something about it. So I did. I took a big step. I put myself out there. Finally! I mailed out the first submission of my manuscript to a publishing house!

I am fully expecting to get rejected, but not because my work isn’t any good or because I chose the wrong publisher. I will because everyone gets the door slammed in the face several times before an editor bites. But I’m not worried about that now. I’m just happy to take the next step, knowing that no one can stop me but me.

Maybe I should use this blog to post my stories. Hmm….

Croup, there it is

Croup: a condition that causes an inflammation of the upper airways — the voice box (larynx) and windpipe (trachea). It often leads to a barking cough or hoarseness, especially when a child cries.

The boy has it. Started on Saturday with this deep, bronchial cough. At first I thought he was impersonating me (I’ve been sick all week). Then it got worse the next day and eventually turned into a bark. It’s been so sad but so cute. He’s at his normal energy level but his voice is almost gone.

Took him to the doctor yesterday morning and the waiting room was full of barking children. It was like a bad movie. The doc said it was in fact croup and would eventually turn into a really bad cold, which is has.

I asked the doc if it’s contagious. She said it turns up in adults as laryngitis. I should be so lucky.

I think I can, I think I can

Just one more hill to climb and we’ll be there.

-Thomas the tank engine

Paralyzing Rain

Warning: Rant ahead

So what’s the deal with rain? It is just water, right? You know the water I’m talking about, right? Water? It’s the same water that composes 60% of your body. It’s the same water that covers about 70% of the earth. We drink it in order to live. We would die without it in a matter of days. We use it to make our coffee and iced tea, to wash our food and our dishes. We use it to brush our teeth and to bathe our newborn babies.  We allow our children to swim in it unattended. And yet, for some reason, when that same indispensable, playful, nourishing water falls from the sky, we have no idea what to do! Everyone panics! Complete pandelerium! At least here, in sunny Southern California.

No one knows how to drive, despite having the best in class Sport Utility Vehicles, including Land Rovers and Range Rovers. Why did people buy those if they’re rendered useless as soon as it starts drizzling. The vehicle, of course, is far from useless; only its driver. The same driver that runs full speed to his car under the protective awning of his briefcase. Wouldn’t want to melt, I suppose. Remember how dangerous water can be. If only he had kept running. Instead he gets into his 4-wheel drive Land Cruiser and accelerates to speeds only seen on the up hill stage of the Tour between Velfrejus and L’Alpe d’Huez. If only he drove as fast as his windshield wipers are wiping. Wow. I didn’t even know wipers could wipe that fast. I think he might blow a motor.

I better go drink a glass of water and calm down before I blow one too.

Ashes or dust?

This post is inspired by Jack London, vicariously through my brother, Wolf. He recently turned me on to London’s short stories and the short story in general. It seems a fitting genre to study for blog writing.

The following is believed to be Jack London’s credo. It appears to be my brother’s as well. I guess I’m just reconsidering my own sleepy permanence.

I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.
I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.
The function of man is to live, not to exist.
I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.
I shall use my time.

-Jack London