I don’t know what the rest of you did for Valentine’s Day, but my lovely lady and I spent an intimate evening . . .
Now that my kids have learned to play the piano, often providing the soundtrack to our lives these days, it sometimes feels like we’re living in an Old West saloon.
I understand that you're not supposed to cry over spilled milk. But what about when you trudge out to the store in the early morning subzero wind chills to buy milk, and then trudge back home with milk, and then five minutes after you bring milk into the homestead . . .
Modern alarm clocks and apps usually have a setting which allows them to become progressively louder or more obnoxious as the minutes tick away. I realized this morning that I have become this for my family, as my tone and language escalates . . .
This week at work, we had an "all-hands" meeting to discuss the state of the company. Most of it was presented in financial parlance, most of which was over my head, and likely over the heads of my colleagues, as we are largely a technical group. I feel like we were like a bunch of … Continue reading Business is Business
￼Parents need a master light switch by the front door. That way we don't have to wander around the entire house shutting off lights. We can just throw one large, Alcatraz-style breaker, a metal beast that's two feet wide and takes two hands to pull down. Imagine the penultimate satisfaction of grabbing that steely handle, … Continue reading The Master Switch
Three years ago, we took the family to my company's picnic at Huber’s, a family farm about 45 minutes from our home. At the time, I shared my mortification at the fact that we had left Sam's shoes at home. I have photos of him traipsing through the pumpkin patch, barefoot without a care in … Continue reading Mortification, Phase 2
In which a common parent-child “conversation” is relayed, one which highlights the near-impossibility of achieving a base understanding when it comes to certain subjects, further solidifying a father’s status as “moron.” Or something.
In which a poor facsimile of Hemingway-an dialogue is used to describe a common family vacation scene.
My parents have been keeping our dog for a while now (she loves to run, they have some land, and it's summer). This week they are also keeping my brother's dogs while they try to sell their house. It's a good ol' grand-dog sleepover. It's no secret that I'm not a huge fan of dogs, … Continue reading For the Love! (of Dogs)
I listened to a Hemingway book during our drive down to Florida, so tonight's post, which is meant to relate a fairly common parental culinary struggle, is written (in a very poor imitation) in his honor. The waves were tall and dark green. There was much foam. The flag flying above the distant estación de … Continue reading Aside – Road Trip 2018
It's Kentucky Derby time, and here in my hometown of Lousiville, KY, the excitement is palpable! Which, for me, means I am getting ready to put on some old running shoes so I can spend the day pulling weeds in my yard only to use them to cover up bald dirt spots, with the full knowledge … Continue reading Author’s Aside //3 – Horses
Whenever one of my kids spills something on the floor, I experience a range of emotions. On one hand, the spill represents something else "to do" - a new task - in a world where we already have more to do than we will ever get done. And my wife and I, as the sole … Continue reading Parenting is a Fickle Ride