Ten Blogs in Ten Weeks

Scott has thrown down the gauntlet. I pick it up. A challenge for all my beloved blogging sibs. I miss the blogs! I am as much to blame as anyone! So I'm going to take an oath: I will write 10 blogs in 10 weeks--a blog a week for the next two and a half months. May some of the rest of you take the challenge and help me avoid housework on Monday morning.

Oh, and if anyone can help me get rid of the little green bar in my pretty picture, DO IT!! PLEASE!! HELP!!!

The kids have started school and its been even more painful than usual. The lunches. The backpacks. The signatures on everything, though why they think it prevents things like progress reports and picture day from escaping my notice, I'll never know. Violins, Cellos, Double basses. Concerts. SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER. Birthdays for everyone. And SO on.

Alex is taking singing lessons, but don't tell anyone. He sings like an angel. He loves the lessons. He loves to practice. It's fragile bliss, though, because if even ONE person makes a derogatory comment, I suspect that I won't be able to drag him back to the lessons with a tow rope. His teacher is a lovely man who has an entire mantelpiece full of cut glass and crystal, sparklingly lit and backed by a gigantic mirror. It's probably half a ton of fragile leaded glass whatever. Honestly.

I've noticed that standing there gazing at the crystal makes the kids incredibly, perfectly good. They don't balk. They don't refuse. They don't look mulish and they NEVER EVEN THINK of banging the keys or stomping their feet. The possible consequences are just too terrifying. I wish I'd thought of that technique years ago.

Now, I have several more possible topics and I'd like to go on, but frankly if I'm going to make it through ten blogs in ten weeks, I have to save some topics. So remind me that I promised to tell you about a man, a plan, a canal...panama! next week.

I'll just finish up with a Tim. This is a report from Tom. The other day they were riding in the car together and this conversation happened:

Tim: Dad, as soon as the last of our friends move away, can we move to Idaho?

Dad: What are you talking about?

Tim: You know, most of our friends have moved away, so I figure after the Rosses move we might as well go, too.

Dad: But the Rosses aren't moving.

Tim: Well, it's only a matter of time. Besides, if we move to Idaho, Zach can save you some time by driving me to Scouts when he is 14.

Dad: True, but I have a law practice here. I have a reputation--people know I'm a good lawyer, so they come to me. If we moved to Idaho I'd have to start all over.

Tim: Sure, but if you're such a hot-shot lawyer, you can build up a new reputation in no time. And I don't mind eating smaller portions for a while.

Silence…

Tim: Besides, don't we have all those cans of wheat and stuff out in the garage? We can just eat that.