Jacob is with me for most of the weekend, and so far my efforts to be a creative grandmother have failed for one reason or another. He played with his Legos and then watched a movie his dad got him but we had to quit in the middle and couldn't get the pause button to work--tried resetting the remote, new batteries, nothing. Now, much later, he says, "It just doesn't work on movies. Can't you understand that?" Hmmm--not feeling too bright when a seven-year-old has to explain something to me. So I asked how much more there is of the movie he's watching and he said he didn't know. What happened to those wizardry skills?
We ate dinner at the Old Neighborhood Grill, his choice, but when Jacob asked, "What do you want to talk about?" we both drew blanks. It was a quiet dinner--but no phones, thank you. Came home, and Sue, my Canadian Fort Worth daughter, came for a glass of wine. Jacob was distracted from his boredom and talked a blue streak, so we had a lively time on the deck. Then it turns out most of the movies Christian brought are Blue Tooth and won't play on my TV. Ah me!
Tomorrow will be better. I have promised him breakfast at the Grill; then we'll grocery shop, and he has a baseball game in the afternoon--the Lord willing and the creek don't rise. We still have to write his letter to Elizabeth and he has to read Boxcar Children to me.
I admit I keep sneaking off to do my own work, but I'm trying here.
Went to run the washing machine tonight, and the door won't close tightly enough to let the machine turn on. I'm stymied.
Bright note: I had a lovely visit with my younger son tonight--if I miss him when he calls on his way home, I miss my chance, but tonight we connected and talked about lots of things--but not cabbages and kings.
Must be time to go to bed. No more editing tonight. I don't think my brain is bright enough. I've exhausted it trying to open the mind of a right winter on Facebook. Don't tell me to save my breath--this is really a sweet, nice guy but he's so misguided. I have this compulsion to make him see the truth--like Wendy Davis' main goal in politics is not to kill hundreds, even thousands, of babies willy nilly.
We ate dinner at the Old Neighborhood Grill, his choice, but when Jacob asked, "What do you want to talk about?" we both drew blanks. It was a quiet dinner--but no phones, thank you. Came home, and Sue, my Canadian Fort Worth daughter, came for a glass of wine. Jacob was distracted from his boredom and talked a blue streak, so we had a lively time on the deck. Then it turns out most of the movies Christian brought are Blue Tooth and won't play on my TV. Ah me!
Tomorrow will be better. I have promised him breakfast at the Grill; then we'll grocery shop, and he has a baseball game in the afternoon--the Lord willing and the creek don't rise. We still have to write his letter to Elizabeth and he has to read Boxcar Children to me.
I admit I keep sneaking off to do my own work, but I'm trying here.
Went to run the washing machine tonight, and the door won't close tightly enough to let the machine turn on. I'm stymied.
Bright note: I had a lovely visit with my younger son tonight--if I miss him when he calls on his way home, I miss my chance, but tonight we connected and talked about lots of things--but not cabbages and kings.
Must be time to go to bed. No more editing tonight. I don't think my brain is bright enough. I've exhausted it trying to open the mind of a right winter on Facebook. Don't tell me to save my breath--this is really a sweet, nice guy but he's so misguided. I have this compulsion to make him see the truth--like Wendy Davis' main goal in politics is not to kill hundreds, even thousands, of babies willy nilly.
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