The Little Words Mean the Most

What children can do for their parents: A practical guide

 

 

MY NEWBOOKCAREER?

i need collaborators the Ducklings?

please crowd-source

 

1: Check for outrageous nose-hairs. Ones threatening to escape. Ones curling around the outside of the nostril, pretending to be a cell tower or maybe a draft moustache. This happens especially to dads. Biology. Hormones. Lousy engineering. It happens. Children: you're so much shorter, though. You will notice. Let him know. Grooming matters to successful dads.

 

#2: He's an authority figure! UGH!!! What are his other weak spots, besides nose hairs? Turn your dad into a lifelong study project.

 

 

twin contrails over my office

 

 

 

we're on the flight path to a bunch of somewheres

 

 

our 1st thistle

 

my ancestry: bee candy with a lot of spikes

 

 

 

that doesn't come tattooed on your right buttock

 

that's the stirring in your heart and muscles

 

when you hear the pipes exhale and then a competent man of the highlands begins whining

 

you respond

 

there are deep wires

 

TRIBAL is beyond philosophy    i  reckon

 

 

quiet moment contemplating Nancy Duarte's RESONATE

 

 

Nonstop, BOS to YVR, going and coming

 

Because we return from France with locally-sourced olive oil from 3 varieties

 

and Jen and Mike use those various French varietal olive oils in their personal cooking, sometimes I'm given treats at Gut Bustas BBQ: today a small treasure container of "candy": the burnt ends of the brisket; crunchy, sweet, smoky, deep, complex. The kind of sublime now it's here now it's gone snack only demonic/angelic cooks (not factories) create....

my teeth hit a message

spit it out as one does

 

The Nativity Wise Men overstay their welcome

 

"I know, Joseph. I like them, too. We owe them. Clearly."

Joseph says nothing.

He's not resigned. More: 'Are we there yet?' There's been a lot of this since THE NIGHT IT HAPPENED.

Mary pops. "It's his fifth birthday. They're still here."

"Fifth," Joseph corrects her softly but firmly; she can't miss it.

"What?" Her eyes swing toward him, like twin arrowheads. The head scarf just emphasizes her stare.

"You didn't capitalize Fifth when you said it," Joseph explains. He likes his pedagogy when he can get away with it. Otherwise, a wonderful man!

"We're not literate, moron." Mary says something else sharp under her breath. "We don't capitalize. Besides, love-of-my-ordained-life, you capitalize His, not fifth."

 

tune in sometime in the next millennia when we invent radio drama

 

 

SIGNAGE: for our annual celebration of the friendships one doth make in life, thankfully

 

so we label a few things to get people in the mood to talk (Jan & Bob gave us that fig so we'd have something to baby; that stepping stone really is 150 million years old at least and spurted from beneath the earth's crust ... into my arms!; the chalks were purchased in a small town in France)