Jodi and the kids are headed to Watertown, SD, for another family reunion. I stayed behind with the dogs – the goal is to write many pages of fiction (plus take care of a little yard work when I get blocked).
Hard to find time to really work at fiction, you know? Got a day job writing, and kids, and stuff. But here goes – wish me luck and inspiration!
Dusk in the city. The beautiful people are arm-in-arm, enjoying the steamy summer evening. You’re headed home after working late. You catch a red light, and a car rolls up beside you – low to the ground and emanating a fat and danceable, if somewhat menacing, bass line. You glance out of the corner of your eye – curious, but avoiding eye contact.
It’s this goofy-looking white guy in a Golf, head bobbing slightly to the beat. He’s headed home, too. Word.
A little shout-out to KVSC’s Urban Invasion program – soul, funk, R&B and hip-hop, Thursday nights from 7 to 11 p.m., spun by budding DJs who know their music but can’t spit out the news and weather to save themselves. If you’re within 50 miles of St. Cloud (or anywhere online) on a Thursday night, check it!
Blogger’s Note: Betsy was a high-school girl from our youth group in Michigan when we moved to Minnesota. She moved with us, lived with us, and took care of our kids while we settled in, located jobs and day care, and found our groove. She was wonderful, and we loved having her here. It’s been a long while since we’ve seen her, and we all miss her something fierce. She’s trying to come see us this fall – and that reminded me of this. It ain’t great, but she liked it.
she radiates
there is a light that breaks
like summer sunlight from her smile
that sparks — electric! — dancing
in the hazels of her eyes.
she radiates, and we are drawn,
moths to the bulb struck blind and dumb,
or wide-eyed children gazing at the
pop and crackle of her fire.
see it now? — just there! — like daybreak
rising pink upon her cheeks:
she’s reading this, it’s dawning on her
she is loved, like sunrise,
sunset, moon and stars;
like blood-relation, she is ours.
we’ll keep her close, a vigil flame
lighting the dark —
she radiates.
j. thorp
13 aug 2003
Major League Baseball played its All-Star Game in Yankee Stadium tonight. I think the House That Ruth Built was the star of the show in some ways. Fuel prices are high and the budget is tight, but Bren, Gabe and I have to get to the Bronx and see a game in the real Yankee Stadium, before it closes its doors. We just gotta!
Eight years ago yesterday, on her birthday, Jodi had an OB appointment, and the doctor had an announcement – the baby in her belly was bulking up fast and needed to come out. We were a only few days overdue, but all her measurements suggested that whoever was in there seemed content to simply expand. The doctor would induce the next day.
We postponed celebrating her birthday until after Gabe’s birth. He was 11 pounds 11 ounces, dwarfing his big brother’s substantial birth weight of 9-9. (Emma, incidentally, weighed a petite 9-5; Trevor frightened the hospital staff at 12-2.)
He’s eight. I can hardly believe how the time passes. Almost makes me want to run.
Archangel Stomp 