I don't have much to blog about as I sit here this late night, or early morning, as the case may be. It always calms me to write and it is a giant boost to my anemic ego to see that I have comments on my blogs.
So here I sit. Typing.
*drumming fingers on desk*
There is a cricket somewhere in the jamb to the back door. At first I thought it was charming; a sweet little harbinger of summer. Now I want to find it and cut it in two with a meat cleaver. It mocks me with its incessant chirping. Just when I'm sure I've zeroed in on where the little bugger is, the chirping will come from somewhere else. Maybe it's a flock of crickets, all in on the universal attempt to drive me insane.
Earlier today I was outside hooking up the trailer to take the garbage into town. Somebody forgot to put it out last night and the garbage man comes at the butt crack of dawn so by the time I realized that the garbage can was still overflowing, it was too late. Someone's neglect to take out the trash is not the point. The point is that I was outside and so was Adam. He loves to run, play in the dirt, look at the tractors and the cows and his stay-close-to-Mommy-skills suck. He would run part way down the driveway and then find something interesting to look at, like a stinkbug or a particularly interesting clump of mud, then he would run back and jabber to me about his find. After a riveting discourse on the properties of the stinkbug, he turned and headed back down the driveway. He got further away from me than I was comfortable with so I stopped him with a sharp "Hey!" When he turned to look at me, I said, "Come back! The tractor is coming that way." It really was. I wasn't lying to him just to get him safely nearer to me. (Although such a thing is not beneath me. Moms lie all the time to keep their kids safe.) He listened to my warning, pondered it for a moment then blew me a kiss and kept on running the other way. My incredulity was short-lived, however, when the tractor rounded the bend directly in front of him. He did an abrupt about-face and ran to my open arms, where I kissed him and asked "How did a nice mama like me ever end up with a naughty boy like you?" He smiled and said "Doo jeeswishup trahzhingzhing," which I understood to mean "because you're lucky."
Mike just groggily walked out of his room to use the bathroom. He saw me sitting at the computer and in a sleepy, croaky voice said "the moon is rust red outside. I wonder why it's rust red. Sometimes it's rust red at the solstice - I mean lunar eclipse. The moon is rust red." Then he continued on his way to the bathroom, took care of business, and disappeared back in his room without another word. Mike is a science geek even in his sleep. You have to really know what you're talking about when you talk to him or he'll catch you not knowing what you're talking about. A couple of days ago, he brought me a dictionary that his teacher had given him before school got out. In the back was a listing of the planets; how they got their names, the number of moons of each, etc. He showed me Mercury and where the book said that Mercury was the name of the Greek messenger God. Then he told me that that is incorrect, that Mercury is actually the Roman god. Hermes is the Greek name. Huh. He's right. Another thing he brought up to me was a couple of weeks ago when he and Moe were watching some true stories of the ER sort of show on television. The episode was about a guy who got shot in the leg, but when he went to the ER to have the bullet removed, they couldn't find the bullet in his leg. They ended up finding it in his chest. Michael asked Morgan how that was possible and Morgan told him that the bullet got into an artery and from there it was pumped up to his chest. The next day, Mike told me that he had been thinking about how that was impossible because arteries travel away from the heart so it must have been a vein. There is no fooling that kid. He is too smart for my own good.
I guess I had a lot to say for not having much to say.