Funny little domestic story

By lex, on October 7th, 2006

So the Hobbit and your correspondent had a very merry this morning, running all about town: We broke our fast in a lovely little cafe run by an Chaldean Iraqi immigrant over in Fairbanks Ranch, before dropping the Kat off at the barn. No lesson today – no time for a lesson, what with a football game to cheer for at 1600 – but enough time to hack ponies, offer instruction, point out errors, etc for those only coming up in the “Pony Jumpers” class, mere tyros that they are no matter their trust fund balances and with no first place ribbons, the poor, piteous things.

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How some people spend their days off

By lex, on August 30th, 2006

Awake at 0630. Admit the vegan surfer kid your daughter seems to like into the gated community. Mumble a quick prayer. Go back to sleep.

0630-0645: Toss fitfully.

0645: Arise and greet the day. And the vegan surfer kid. Who, it turns out, drinks coffee at age 15.

0650: Make a second pot of coffee. Bastard.

0730: Kiss the kids good-bye, the Hobbit too. Feel immensely privileged not to have to jump into the 30-minute knife fight that is the morning commute.

0735: Look around the empty house regretfully.

0743 – 0845: Read the WSJ. Read the San Diego Tribune. Read the usual blogosuspects. Post some trash, just to keep the plates spinning.

0900: Wait for Skippy-san to do his “Crazy uncle in the attic” routine. Drum fingers.

1000: Decide that maybe playing 18 holes at Torrey Pines is a better use of leave than waiting for Skippy-san.

1030-1500: Play pretty damned average golf. Hit a few good shots. Promise to try this again next year.

1600: Get an 80-minute massage. Because you can.

1900: Pick up the calamari from Il Fornaio for the Kat, because nothing else would do. Have supper with the clan.

2000: Blog a bit.

2030: Wonder what’s going to happen next. Ponder the idea of doing homework. Reject the idea.

continuing...

2100: Watch “Inside,” a Denzell Walker bank robbery vehicle with SNO – interrupted by a 2215 hastening of school-aged daughters off to nod.

2230: Follow.

Back To The Index 

Good clean fun

By lex, on April 1st, 2006

Thirty-five miles on the bike today, up to Carlsbad and back on the 101 for an almost 2000 calorie burn. Earned the right to take SNO and his GF down to Bronx Pizza in the Hillcrest neighborhood for a slice of straight-to-the-heart. Went shooting after, pistols this time.

Furious

By Lex, on Thu – September 1, 2005

 

I’m about ready to deliver a certain biology teacher a richly deserved ass-beating.

Tried to help the Biscuit through some Biology homework this evening – she only started freshman year yesterday – and ran afoul of one of those teachers you occasionally hear about, but thankfully rarely meet.

Wait – roll the clock back 24 hours: She comes back from her first day, and we ask, “How was it?” Trying to be excited for her. First day of high school and all.

“It sucked.”

Impossible Day

By Lex, on Thu – August 11, 2005

 

And an equally improbable night. Cheerleaders, it is. Which is a gerundive with an entirely different psychic evocation than it ever had before, when it’s your youngest daughter who’s becoming the noun. For the love of God and it’s sure to be the death of me.

So I’ll keep this short. Sweet I can’t promise.

But short, yes. One soldiers on when one must.

Friday Musings – LI

By Lex on Fri – April 29, 2005

You like that, the Roman numeral thing? I was thinking that maybe someday (not today, but, you know…) I’d write a really good Friday Musings and you’d want to tell all your friends but you wouldn’t know which one, and it would get complicated. So I’d put a Roman numeral by the title, and that would clear everything up.

Or is that just pretentious?

Oh, Vodka Martini, up and dry, by the way. I just might have a second. It’s been that kind of day.

And after all, it is Friday.

No. Not all bad, not at all. Just conflicted. Started early this A.M. with an emergent parent/teacher conference. Those are never truly good. They don’t call you on Thursday and ask you to come in at 0730 the next day just to tell you what a great job you’re doing parenting.

No.

Writing Something

By Lex, on Wed – April 6, 2005

Because, sometimes?

It’s just a matter of grinding it out.

Two days into my seven day leave, and I’m already starting to feel nostalgic about it. Like it’s going by too fast. Like I’m missing it.