Mixed Nuts

Of news, that is. It's been so long since I last posted I hardly know where to start. For Christmas, H became obsessed (and I mean OBSESSED) with Bionicles. We now have about eight hundred of them. No, seriously, they keep multiplying. The good thing is that he now spends hours setting up battles between the Good Guys and the Bad Guys. Some of the Bad Guys are so cool-looking that they are often Good Guys because we can't bear to have the really cool-looking ones be Bad.
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My Other Half and I have been having deep troubles lately, so a lot of our time has been superceded by long intense talks and therapy sessions. We're doing better, I think, but it's a long road ahead. By "doing better" I mean, "I'm not crying so much." Which is good, because I think I was becoming dehydrated and it was further addling my perspective. He's a good guy, and I love him dearly. But, financially, we're skint, and it's my doing, and it's only understandable that he's resentful. Keep us in your thoughts.
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Last night, I was reading a dinosaur book to H, and he told me he was very worried about meteors. What if one hit the earth again and destroyed all life? I told him that we now have telescopes and satellites and all sorts of outer-space search things, and that we'd know long in advance if a giant meteor was headed our way. Then we'd blow it out of the sky. Not to worry.

But, then I told him that meteorites hit the earth all the time, that they're usually just space rocks, and most of the time they burn up in our outer atmosphere. We call them "shooting stars," and when you see one, you're supposed to make a wish and kiss the person nearest you. He was quiet for a minute, then said what he'd wish for was to always be with Momma and Daddy, and to have all the Bionicles in the world.

Funny, that was the same as my wish, except for the damned Bionicle part.
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Driving home from the supermarket tonight, I got to thinking about Contrails, only because I saw one overhead. We are nowhere near a major airport (Portland, ME is over sixty miles away) so a Contrail is a rare thing. Not unusual, but nonetheless, rare. I was out with the H-Bomb a while back, driving to Portland, coincidentally, when seemingly out of nowhere, he said "Momma!! I see Superman! And Supergirl, too!" I thought it was more of his imagination running wild, and after further commentary of the sort, realized that he was referring to a couple of Contrails.

Having grown up in a house with a NWS Meteorologist, I learned at a very early age what a Contrail was, what caused thunderstorms, about jetstreams, etc. If my son wants to think it's Superman, I won't deny him that right now. There's time enough for discussion of jet propulsion and water vapor in the atmosphere.

And when he was 5, Dad probably thought they were Superman, too.

Ta for now. I'll try to put some pictures up of my Philospher's Wool Traditions sweater later this week, if I don't have to tear it back again.

Anne