Friday, December 8, 2006

for forever, love now

There is not such thing as darkness; only a failure to see.

Fog rolls in from the cow pasture this morning, up and over the creek splashing with exhausted salmon whose hides are spotted with experience. I revel in this morning's waffle-dance (even though we have no waffles) and listen to Lyli talk about "when me ah beeg gurhl ah cut appo wita nife." Scarleht talks at great length about the "pah-kit" of her "fwooyoo" (sweater). We move into "five anananados!" (five things colored orange as we begin to pick up Spanish left and right). Lyli complains that her socks are not working, then talks about yesterday when Scarleht threw a fit and didn't want to clean up her toys. Lylis says with utmost seriousness: "Lyli no cwy, lyli toys away" and punctuates it with her affirmative, headstrong single nod.

In other news I aimlessly, doggedly trudge onward, though the monotony of freedom sometimes stifles in ways you wouldn't imagine. I change hats to improve my despondency, smoke a fancy cigarette and watch the groundsquirrels and chickadees dance across the landscape of our cold, wet yard. Friends seem few and far between, even when perched next to me for a spell. When you only have little pieces of yourself to portion out it narrows your opportunities a bit. Or sequesters them to dark barrooms on those nights when part of me pretends I'm not a father. Other people seem to move so much faster than me, their emotions granted more time to work themselves out and evolve. With the passing days comes an increasing, encroaching loneliness I attempt to quell with cheap beer to little avail. I tell myself that crutches come and go in phases and that everything will be okay. I space out and don't listen to myself. I wonder about far away friends living out fantasy lives even though I know they feel as stagnant and small and forgotten as I do.

In the Pacific Northwest, this seems to be a seasonal ineptitude, our collective bioregional funk that starts to settle in around October and finally lifts her gloomy mantle whenever little miss spring gets around to pulling up her skirts enough for us to spy a little ankle and sink our hands back in her still cold soils with images of cherry tomatoes and strawberries driving us onward.

Changing hats works a bit, as does the thought of tea. I abandon my sorry self and start to sort out this dreamless day replete with routine duties. To that end, peruse some links, o gentle distant readers of my little world:

The Porn Myth

Naked Man Smokes Crack and Gets Attacked by an 11-foot Alligator

Christian Groups to Boycott Hate-Based Video Game Based on that Nutjob Tim LaHeye's Left Behind Series - YES!!!!! Thank you Jay-sus!

Green, Socially Responsible Gift Giving

The Fable Game: DIY Storybook

2006 10 Worst Toys List

Just Plain Awesome

Dwarfist, Deaf Parents Down With PGD

Eating Chocolate Reduces Risks of Miscarriage!!!

Captain Picard Sings the Alphabet Song

McSweeney's Has Kids Books! - Just a cool dude runnin' a cool site

Culture Seed

Disenfranchised Father

Disenfranchised Father Syndrome

"Be it thy course to being giddy minds with foreign quarrels." - Little Billy Shakes

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hello Sky. I'm thinking of you and I hope that you can take the time to sip some tea and reminisce about Cabin 11. Maybe that will bring a smile to your face? Alas, these short wintery days really can get to people. To remedy that, as much as I know it's bad for me, I go tanning once/week to soak up a little vitamin D. Honestly, it feels great. 10 minutes of glowiness can really perk me up. Anyway, I hope you find your respite from these gloomy days. And thank you for the link on "The Porn Myth" I wholeheartedly concur.