Unsuited for the Rage of War

So the other day, we were playing military bootcamp with a bunch of kids. Ben was failing miserably. Like, it was painful to watch him do pushups, and he was fighting with the other kids in excessive amounts for no reason.

So, I took him aside and I said, "You're unsuited for the rage of war; so pack up, go home, you're through. How could I make a man out of you?"

He just looked at me blankly, so I told him that here's the part where he does what was expected of him even though no one thinks he can.

Nope. He just went back to doing what he'd been doing.

I'M BACK....with the tango?

So I have let this blog lie idle for nearly a year but now I've decided to return. Not sure how regularly I'll post but hopefully more.

Anyways. So my sister, now 15 years old, has recently taken to doing the tango. She's enforced tango lessons for at least the last two nights and fully intends to do another one tonight. My other sister and brother are her pupils. They attempt to drag me into it but I can't do it. It's too strange. And they're too loud.

It is quite comical though. They use YouTube for instruction and well, my 13-year-old sister can't--or won't--pronounce "pivot" properly. She says it "pie-vot."

Last night they had me running and hiding under the table. After I just stood shaking with my hands over my ears. I have social anxiety...close proximity to loud people makes me freak out. Also too many people nearby makes me freak out. And too many people talking at once.

I only added that last paragraph because this post was too short. Eh. Next one maybe shall be better, if there is a next one.

....

I should probably update some things even though they're not epic. Since my last post, three furry members of our family have died. Well, one went missing and never returned and the neighbor thinks her dog killed him. That was gentle, sweet Jasper.

Fluffy got very, very sick and after two steroid shots that only worked briefly we finally had to put her to sleep. We actually weren't sure she would even live til we got to the vet's office. But she did and the vet took one look at her and knew it was time. I couldn't stay in the room...I just couldn't.

Those were both awhile ago. The last and most devastating loss will be three weeks ago tomorrow. My baby boy, Caspian, was hit by a car and died instantly. I was at work...and when I got out, I got the news. He was already stiff and stinking by the time I got home. We buried him later that night. I finally visited his grave for the first time yesterday...you'd be surprised how easy it is to avoid a spot in your own yard. I was finally able to let him go but I still miss him. A lot.

Non-Negotiable

Because I don't have any new stories on the top of my head, I'm gonna recycle one from when my eldest niece, Samantha, was less than two years old. (She is nine now.)

My sister Casey and her husband Solly were discussing some unspecified matter of great import when their then-toddler Samantha wandered into the room just in time to hear Solly say, "It's non-negotiable."
Casey told Samantha to go play. Samantha replied: "It's non-negotiable, Mom."

~Sharon

Cupboard Bling

Last night at dinner, the subject of remodeling the kitchen came up. Everyone had ideas of what they would change about it if they were to change something. Mom wanted to paint the cupboard doors pale blue and get some different doorknobs and inner instead of outer hinges.

The cupboards ARE a bit tacky.

The wallpaper also was deplored. Not too hard to see why

I mean, look at it.

But what took the cake of this conversation was Dad's suggestion for the cupboards. He suggested spraypainting the hinges and handles gold and then painting the doors glittery purple. Glittery purple. Not only is this the best kitchen decorating idea I've ever heard, it came from the number one most unexpected member of this family. Ok. Number two most unexpected. The boy pictured above (with a purple facepaint beard) would never suggest such a thing. BUT! Seriously. My dad is epic.

~Sharon

Blanket Blondfold

~"Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall."~

Picture a blond ten-year-old boy with a blue fleece blanket draped over his head.

Then picture this creature running through a house. (Just to see if he can make it, you know.)

Well, just as he thought he had made it, bam! Ben's head collided with the doorway

from the dining room to the kitchen. (Yeah, we're one of those families with a dining room AND a kitchen. And we actually eat in the dining room.)

And then the blue thing goes flying backwards, and the blanket slips off,

revealing a laughing young boy. But he's not just laughing. He's also 

in a lot of pain because....drum roll please. He's got a goose egg forming on his head!! It's not as bad as the one I got when I was twelve, but it's still there.

Ben said afterwards he thought it would have been funny if we had caught the accident on videotape.

~Sharon

Writing the Wrong Books

Today Emma and I were discussing my book. Since my characters are going to England, Emma decided that the royal family had to be involved. I was like, no, because that would make it easier to pinpoint a year. I don't want a year pinpointed. So, she says, leave out the baby.

Then we got onto how I would respect them more if they gave their son swords and chain mail. Emma reminded me that they don't use chain mail anymore. I remarked that we really need to go back to old fashioned warfare...without explosives, you know. Emma agreed, because then we wouldn't have nuclear weapons. I said that we needed to go back to when warriors fought man to man, with the clashing of steel against steel, or the twang of a bow as an arrow sings through the air and sinks into your enemy's chest with a sickening thud.

Emma gives me a weird look and says, "I think you're writing the wrong books."

I DO write books with swords!! I write modern fiction AND medieval themed fantasy/allegory! Seriously. It's like she hasn't read Follow the Star.

~Sharon

A UO?

Silver hasn't been himself lately; he has been quite lethargic. He wouldn't eat or drink or go to the bathroom or play much at all. After a couple days of this, Dad finally decided to take him to the vet...well, send him. Dad's in Boston for work, so Mom, Emma, and Lilly took Silver to the doctor.

Here's a picture of the little bugger, just because :)

Well, it turns out that Silver, like the good little monkey who was always very curious, has an unidentified object in his stomach. He's got to stay overnight at the clinic, and the doctors plan to check it out in the morning.

(The doctors called it a "foreign body" but after I called it an unidentified object, Lilly stated that it was "a UFO, only it isn't flying".)


**UPDATE**
Silver is home and doing much better. They now think he has asthma. He's not quite back to his usual self but he's on the way there.

~Sharon