I have dreamed a dream, but that dream is gone for me now

I am awake, and all too aware of that fact as it turns out.  My absence from this project is a mixture of neglect and self-indulgence.  As our life has done so many times before, we have turned outside to in and inside to out, we have reinvented what we call reality and I can hardly place my finger on how.  In the end, the "how" matters not.  The "when" is of even less significance.  It is those details found in the "what" that I find truly fascinating.  "What" have we become, "what" will come next, and "what" (in...

A Hooker’s Vagina: Promises of the past haunt the realities of the present

It has been more than a month of Sundays since last we spoke and like all things in our lives at present, the blog is in a state of flux. Giving you my best Forest Gump, it must be said that MY momma always said, “Life is like a Hookers Vagina . . . you never know what you gonna get”. These days, it seems like I am living my life in halves. I am sitting on a collection of half-written blog posts about half-witted ideas, written in such a half-hearted manner that I am embarrassed to call them my own. As I sit here staring at a half-eaten sandwich,...

Creativity in a Cardboard Box

If I were the sort to point fingers, I rather suppose that I could create an impressive list of reasons why I have neglected or maybe even lost interest in this project. I could blame the change in latitude and longitude for the snow days that have kept our children under my keep instead of inside the halls of academia. I could blame the nearly 600 boxes of shit that have amassed themselves in the garage of our rental home in what could possibly be argued as the worst move in the history of moving. I could even blame the demands placed upon...

Honey Boo Boo and The Amish Mafia: An American Love Story

Yes indeed sir, you are back in ‘Mereeka. That’s how we hillbillies say “America” don’t you know. We have yet to truly settle and most days I have a want to check with the airlines to see when we should check in for our flight back across the pond. Having shuttled our way through the holidays, we are residing (reluctantly) at an extended stay hotel. Life out of a suitcase is not unfamiliar to our crew, nevertheless, the pressure it creates within the family dynamic is enough to steam a turkey. Sharing limited space and seemingly limitless...

Flight of the Mouseling and a Cure for Literary Constipation

As pressure mounts from the outside to continue with this project I find myself terribly blocked and despite a diet heavy on literary bran muffins, I still can’t squeeze out a single word worth publishing. Indeed it has been some time and we are long overdue, but words don’t really do it justice. The depth and breadth of the change we have undergone over the past month or so has, in fact, left me speechless. Oh, I gave it the old college try a time or two, but to be honest it was a bunch of crap. Tedious paragraphs about packing and unpacking,...