Buck Fifty: Addendum

Well! I did it! I successfully wrote a minimum of 150 words each day in November. While I didn’t have to post every day, as. long I wrote the required amount, as it turned out, I ended up writing 30 separate blogs! Here’s some interesting facts about the month. Or, at least, interesting to me facts. 

My shortest post was on Day 7, The Future Looks Brighter Today, at just 180 words. 

The longest was also one of my favourites, Murder, They Streamed, at 732 words. However, a large part of that was actually written over the course of the summer, and just edited in to new material. I actually only wrote around 300 new words that day. For the rest of the math in this post, I am taking an educated estimate of 311 words for Murder, They Streamed in relation to the challenge requirements. Adjusted, that would make Christmas Started Tonight In Ireland the longest, at 678 words. 

Only two posts broke 500 new words published, Christmas Started Tonight In Ireland, and the post immediately preceding that, Teaching Inis, at 503 words. Both were written in the final week. 

I published 8306 words in November. I wrote a lot more, but they got deleted or edited out before posting. That’s an average of 276.86 words per day. The mean word count was 251. That is to say, if ordered by word count, there are 15 posts of less than or equal to 251 words, and 15 posts with a greater than 251 word count. By coincidence, Day 16, Distance Grandparenting is the post with 251 words. 

At the time I’m writing this, My Nightly Ritual has the most views, at 41. Though that was posted on Day 4 and has had all month to accumulate that number. By contrast, The End Of All Now from Day 28 already has 37 views. 

If you did, thanks for joining me on this process. I really enjoyed this month, and hopefully it’s gotten me back into writing. Only time will tell. My next project, I think, will be a video I really want to do. I’ll post about it here if I succeed. 

Education Through Games

My kids are big into their tech. 

It’s been fun watching my daughter develop her skills with my phone or iPad, and more recently, the Switch. Practically everything she can do she learned herself through trial and error, with just a little nudge from watching me. She knows the PIN code to access my phone and iPad and can get to the apps she wants and jump between them. 

When Covid hit, I invested in some good art programs and educational apps for her to discover. My favourite is a very colourful and engaging app to teach programming that builds in complexity at a very manageable scale. Ada really loves it. I watched her start by randomly placing the instructions until she got the little critter to its home, and move to understanding the effects of the various commands and place them correctly. As the game goes on, they add new commands she has to experiment with to discover their result. 

We still try to limit their screen time over a week, but some days they spend more time on them than others. At least it’s partially educational. 

EDIT: I had to manually adjust the date so that this post appears as a November Post. The clock on my blog is still set to Ireland time, so it initially showed up as a December 1st entry. It’s still very much November 30th where I am, though. It also means that all previous posts show up as a day late, but I’m less concerned about that. 

The GIF That Took Some Getting

Spent a lot of today working on some fun creative stuff. 

I did a bunch of photography in the morning, for two main purposes, neither of which I can reveal just now, but both projects are seasonal themed, and very different from each other.

This evening, I did a bunch of fun editing on the second batch of photos I took. I use Procreate on my iPad to do all my drawing, and it works okay as a photo editor. Unfortunately, I actually discovered a bug in Procreate this evening while working. I was trying to make a nice, simple, animated GIF. When I saved it at full resolution, it worked fine, but was far too big to do very much with, including sending via Whatsapp or posting to Twitter...the two platforms I wanted the GIF for. 

In order to back my way around it, I had to save the animation as a 4 second MP4 and send it to my phone. From there, I had to send it by Whatsapp to my wife's phone but instead of sending the video, choose to send it as a GIF and let Whatsapp convert it. Once my wife's phone had it, I send it back to my phone and saved the GIF to my photostream. 

And that's how I created a stupid GIF of a silly gag that no one else will care about, but makes me smile. You might see it on my Twitter feed on Tuesday morning. It might make you smile too. 

The End Of All Now

There's a lot of talk about what everyone is planning to do once this whole pandemic thing is over. Ignoring the fact that the definition of when that could be is hazy at best, there are a lot of differing ideas, even a variety of plans by individual people related to different aspects of their life. 

For me, I can't wait to travel home to Ireland again and see all my family and friends in person. Skype just doesn't cut it. I've been missing them a lot, especially given that my mum and sister were due to travel to us in May to celebrate my birthday. In fact, the last time we had visitors from home was this very week last year when Claire's parents stayed a while to be here for my son's second birthday. 

Without traveling half a world, I want to go to board game conventions and meetups. I want to hang out in a room full of friends, laughing and chatting and hugging and high-fiving. I want to be surrounded by friends I haven't seen in over a year. I'm not even all that interested in playing games, I just want to spend time with them all together in one place. 

Finally, I want to organise a mask burning party. I want to have food, and Rock Band karaoke, and fire pits to sit around after dark. I want a big metal barrel with a wood fire where people can throw in a mask to celebrate the end of it all. 

But, actually, I don't want it to ever entirely end. I don't want everyone to burn or discard all their masks once a vaccine becomes widely available. I want a certain level of mask wearing to become common place if anyone has a cough or snotty nose. I want that to be an ongoing common courtesy to your community in stores, or workplaces, or any other gathering place. 

Never forget how bad it got, or how much better it could be. 

Christmas Started Tonight In Ireland

When I was a kid, the first sign of Christmas was the Late Late Toy Show. The Late Late Show is a long running late night chat show that most of Ireland watched throughout the 60’s, 70’s 80’s and 90’s. It still runs today, and is the second longest running late night talk show in the world. To this day, it is broadcast live in from of a studio audience (except in current pandemic restrictions).

The Late Late Toy Show is an annual special episode in late November where all the good little children of Ireland are let stay up long past their bedtimes to see what the hot toys, games and books of the year are. It always has special guests, children presenting toys, musical pieces and other novelties to entertain. As a kid, it was magical. 

Recent years have been less than awe-inspiring. There was just something missing ever since Gay Byrne retired in 1999. All subsequent hosts just didn’t have the same skills and screen presence, and the Toy Show became a 2 hour advertisment for the toys companies that could afford to promote their stuff. While I was in college it was a joke, and in the last decade or two, I haven’t bothered with it. 

While browsing twitter earlier today I was alerted to the fact the this years show had just begun! Purely out of nostalgia, and expecting absolutely nothing, I fired up the RTÉ Player on my iPad and started watching, streamed live from Ireland, with my kids. 

And it. 

Was.

✨✨MAGICAL!✨✨

The musical numbers were utterly beautiful, and there were lots to enjoy. The show opened with the host and a bunch of kids in an elaborate set piece, and they later did an encore with Singing In The Rain. But by far the two most magical moments were the beautiful rendition of Rule The World dedicated to all those who can’t come home this Christmas and... well... it’s better not to spoil it, but this cover of a song by an Irish artist, called Giants. Seriously, if you ignore all other links in this post, don’t skip that one. It’s...special. 

And the kids! Every one of them was a character, a joy to see on screen. They could banter away and gave as good as they got with jokes and friendly insults! After each one, I thought they couldn’t top that, and then the next kid would appear and I’d have to grab my tissues again and try not to sob too loudly. The surprise guest for a little boy with brittle bone disease (the Late Late Toy Show always made bringing sick children a little extra joy a priority) was possibly the sweetest moment I’ve witnessed all year. 

The positive buzz online during and after the show was deafening! People all over th eWorld were live Tweeting it, myself included, and individual guest names were trending in Ireland, much to one 7 year old girl’s delight! Everyone was enjoying the love and heart that was on display throughout. In a year where a lot of families are feeling the pinch, it was very nice to see them take the focus off the toys and land it squarely on the children. 

All this and they raised €5.2 MILLION in about two hours for children’s hospitals across the country! Ireland has a population of about 5 million, and given that the donation drive remains open after the show, I can only imagine what it’s up to now! 

This year’s Late Late Toy Show was breathtaking, and my love and congratulations goes out to everyone involved. I’m so delighted I got to share it, live, with my kids this year. We will absolutely be tuning in again next year, and until then, we’ll be rewatching the hightlights on the RTÉ YouTube channel for some time to come. 

Oh! And the host, Ryan, said “Fuck” on live Irish television in front of a seven year old girl and absolutely everyone watching lost it, and we will all love him for it forever.  

Teaching Inis

There’s a particular board game I love. It’s been at the number one spot on my favourite’s list for a number of years now. Designed by a French designer, published by a French publisher, it is entirely themed on Irish mythology. 

Inis is about trying to control key gameplay states on the board to be crowned king of The Island. It has an awesome table presence, from it’s uniquely shaped modular board pieces, to the lovely little minis each player moves around the board, to the stunning artwork on the cards, all licensed from a world famous Irish artist that specializes in Irish mythology art. When the game is laid out on a table, it just screams at anyone walking by “Hey you! Come look at me! I’m beautiful!” 

SHUX is a convention run by a popular board game review site based in the UK. The twist is, because they love me and wanted to spend time with me, they chose Vancouver to host their convention! I got a ticket to the very first one, sight unseen, day one of sales, some 10 months before the actual event. 

I played Inis four times over those two days. Worse, I taught Inis NINE times over the two days. By early on the Sunday, people were hunting me down because other attendees had been tweeting about me. I had The Teach down to a fine art, a swift 25 minutes, filled with gags to keep players engaged. 

On Sunday morning I borrowed a second copy from the actual owner of the company that publishes Inis and ran two games side by side. It was an amazing sight that made my heart sing with joy. 

But even so, I was burned out by Sunday afternoon. Staying up gaming in the convention hall until 1am Saturday night/Sunday morning probably didn’t help. So, as I was expalining the game for the nineth time, I decided that this was the last one. 

Halfway through The Teach, someone walked by the table, stopped and said “Ooohh! Inis! I’ve wanted to play this all weekend but never got the chance.”

Inside my head, my brain silently screamed “NOOOOOOOOOOO!! Don’t you-“ but my mouth involuntarily responded “I can teach you once I’m done here.”

I heard a door slam and my brain stomped off angrily into the foggy ether of my subconsciousness. 

Thankfully, he thanked me, but said he was heading to the airport soon and would have to take me up on the offer next year. 

My brain shouted “You’re on your own!” as it drove out of sight in an imaginary red Ferrari, and I really don’t recall much of anything from the rest of that Sunday. 

The moral of the story is: Don’t stay up until 1am at conventions when you have a whole other day to come, even if it is to school a table of friends in your first game of Nations: The Dice Game by winning with at least a twenty point gap to second place. 

Mad As Heck

The current global pandemic has been hard on everyone... Actually, it's been hard on everyone that has at least a modicum of humanity and community. While we're all isolating and wearing masks and avoiding contact with friends and family, the few that aren't are ruining it for the rest of us. 

We've tried so hard to stay safe. We wore masks in stores for months, but now I'm wearing one pretty much as soon as I step outside my home. My kids wear their masks when asked, and they haven't played with their friends at the playground in weeks. 

But it doesn't matter. No matter how careful we are, because others don't care, because others throw up their arms and steam about freedom and oppression, my family is stuck in a lockdown again. It makes me furious. If people cared more for each other, we'd be doing well enough that these restrictions wouldn't be needed.

I can't abide idiots, particularly idiots that harm my family without a care. 

Ugh. I miss friends. I wish I was more of an uncaring asshole. 

Small Joyful Things

Claire has always enjoyed thrift store shopping. She loves spending hours going through the racks of assorted clothes and bags for treasures. And she often comes out on top, finding incredible items among the mountains of cheap tops and pants.

But this summer she pivotted away from clothing to start searching the glassware. She loves watching thrift store videos on YouTube and through them she has internalized a lot of details on what to watch for and how to fairly accurately identify genuine high value antique items from cheaper reproductions. 

Because of this, she has amassed a modest collection of very nice vintage glass and ceramic wear, and started selling some of her nicer finds that she doesn’t want to keep herself on eBay and Etsy.

However, before that, she’s been recording videos of her discoveries! They detail the history of the item as best she can tell, what to watch for in relation to that particular style of object and other interesting facts! Her channel is still quite new, but she’s been very consistent with her uploads, and as a result, her trips to the thrift stores around us. If you’d like to watch her videos, her channel is Small Joyful Things. If you’d like to buy anything she has on offer, you can order through her Etsy store, or check out her eBay page. Please buy stuff. Our home can’t support the amount of glass it currently contains, and it only grows almost daily. 

Daily Post Push

I've rarely had a plan for what I'm going to write from day to day during this challenge month. For over half of the posts so far, I've sat down at my iPad with a blank page before me and a blank mind inside me. My days are too busy to spend it thinking up great ideas, my evenings are spent relaxing and doing exercises. 

So what usually happens is that I sit down and start writing something with a plan on where it will go. Then about a paragraph or two in, I realize I have a much better thing I want to talk about, and I just scrap the whole bit I've written up to then. 

What I end up with after that is mostly a stream of consciousness tale. I just let the story of what I want to write flow, and I've been happy with them like that. They read more natural in the end, and they feel more personal when I look back on them.

It does mean that, while I aim to write at least 150 words for the challenge, I usually end up at around the 220 word mark, but it takes writing about 300 words to get there.

I actually did plan this post ahead of time, and it's exactly 220 words.

Light It Up!

We chose to put up or Christmas decorations over the weekend. Normally, we wait until December 1st. But it's 2020. Every extra moment of joy is worth milking. 

It seems as though a lot of our neighbours agree. Our housing cooperative is looking bright and colourful on these cold, dark winter nights. 

My kids were very excited about the idea of decorating the tree, so they helped with that task. We didn't have a tree topper, so I took Ada in to a local store to pick one out. She didn't pick the one I did have liked, but I bought the one she picked. She was right, it looks great on the tree.

I also grabbed two extra strings of fairy lights, one more for around our living area and a new one for outside our front door. 

Our most recent upgrade to our Christmas assortment is a blow up, lighted unicorn that sits on our balcony and has elicited a lot of laughter in just two days. Either from the moment I plugged it in, and both my kids started taking to it like it was a friend that was patiently listening, or the number of neighbours that have looked up and just started laughing. 

I love Christmas, usually from December 1st. But it's 2020. Do the thing that brings you joy now and do it for as long as you can. 

Resistance Is Foremost

Ada hates new things. 

Actually, no. She loves discovery and learning and exploring, but in her own time. She hates being rushed into new things. 

Less so in recent months, but in the past, if she got new clothes, we honestly had to leave them on the floor in her room for a few days before she'd be willing to wear them. Grandparents would send the most beautiful new clothes and she'd be delighted to open the package and ooh and ahh at them, but it would take her a few days to become acclimated to them. And then she'd ask to wear it non-stop for a month.

When she was learning to ride her bike this summer without training wheels no amount of bribery or threats would get her to try, so, despite her protests, I just brought her bike to the park whenever we went. I didn't ask her to ride it. I didn't even discuss it. I knew there was no point in trying to talk her into it. The more pressure she feels, the less she wants to do a thing. 

So I just left it lying in the grass. 

Then, after a few days of this, she got up on it, and with me holding it for just a few runs up and down the path, she was off. By just the second day of practicing, she was going by herself, and by the third day, she could get started without help. 

Given the right fulcrum, Ada could move the world. Just pray you don't need her to do it today. Maybe by next weekend, if the tools can be left out on the floor for a bit. 

Circles And Art

I love drawing. I’ve been drawing comics since I was a kid. I remember filling up copy books with long stories featuring characters from the shows I was watching wihle at school. As an adult, I’ve drawn short strips featuring animals that were causing a disturbance for our neighbours!

Ada loves drawing too. She started with circles and faces, just eyes and mouths, then hair and ears. But her art has grown more and more detailed over the last year. At five years old, she now draws recognisable characters, and tells stories in her art. Her real life friends appear in her drawings, and she does entire scenes, with buildings and backgrounds, skies and rainbows. Lots of rainbows. 

She’s very detail orientated, seemingly adding new skills to her repertiore on a weekly basis. She draws lips and eyebrows, clouds and petals. Most amusingly, all houses have chimneys and smoke, despite our home actually not having one. 

We post her stuff on the fridge, and it gets added to over time, until eventually there’s too much paper for the magnets to hold. That’s when I love going through them and seeing the clear timeline of progression over the previous months, like peeling back layers at an archaeological dig. 

I love seeing Ada draw, and love to draw with her. I try not to do it too often though, as she tends to just ask me to draw things for her to colour. I rather see her draw herself. 

Just a few months ago Connor was deliberately drawing a page full of circles, his first fridge art. In the last week or so he’s started adding eyes and a mouth. I can’t wait to see the stories he’ll tell too. 

Faith And Begorrah!

My wife Claire and I both were born and raised in Ireland, and as such we learned to speak Irish throughout our time in school. 

Recently, we’ve started speaking more and more Irish around our home, both to each other and to the kids. At first, there was much amusement from the kids, and much struggling from us. Not using it for our entire adult life made our vocabulary more than a little rusty. But we started with the basics and built up. 

Claire was first to install the Goggle Translate app onto her phone, which is a huge help. Although we do text each other as Gaeilge, we’re currently not too concerned about spelling, which for me is a huge relief, as you can tell if you’re a regular reader here. We’ve learned how to add the only accent in Irish, the fada, to our texts, and our phones are starting to learn and suggest a few of the more common phrases we use. 

Our Irish still isn’t wonderful, and our converstaions are peppered with English words and phrase, as well as a lot of pauses and umms and ahhhs. But, we’re getting better. Slowly but surely. 

And, as we say back home, “Is fearr Gaeilge briste, ná Béarla clíste”. GRMA

Edited For Content

During the currently in progress pandemic social distancing guidelines and lockdown that started back in March, a lot of people have been trying new things to break the monotony of the new normal. Some have been learning new skills like wordworking and gardening, other refining and perfecting skills they already have a start in. 

I fall into the latter. I’ve always been interested in video editing on a casual basis. I love putting together videos celebrating my kids development, or holidays, or other significant events. In the last year, I’ve started creating more videos celebrating my neighbours and neighbourhood. I’ve been diving into the very robust video editor LumaFusion on the iPad. It can do a lot more than I can, so I try to add a new skill or feature to every video I make. 

I’ve just uploaded a few new videos to my YouTube channel if you’re interested in seeing them. I haven’t uploaded them before, because I usually just Whatapp them directly to friends and family. Theey’re fun to make, but I worry that they’re the video eqivalent of listening to someone describe their dream from last night, only intersting to those directly involved. 

Regardless, I do love editing with LumaFusion, and I have a few sketches written and locked away in my notes that I might film some day. Until then, I’ll stick to snapshots from my life. 

Chilliwack Corn Maze

Trip to Victoria

One Day At A Time

Today was rough, though nothing negative happened. 

I woke at a decent time. I find when I sleep in, even for as little as an extra thirty minutes, my morning is out of sorts. Breakfast runs late and everything just slips a bit. I like to take my mornings slowly when I can and starting late, I'm just rushing to keep up.

My kids were amazing all day. I played a board game with Ada, and she won. We really love playing Animal Upon Animal, and Connor likes to join us, playing with the extra pieces we don't need while playing two player. 

We watched a few cartoons, had lunch and Ada did her online class meeting, which she loves. Connor napped without fuss, and slept for ninty minutes, give or take. During that time I got laundry done and had a lovely chat with one of my neighbours. 

I made my favourite dinner and thoroughly enjoyed it.

But all this time, I just wanted to sleep. I just wanted to leave the kids watch videos all day and sleep in the chair beside them. They would have loved that, although I expect Connor would have climbed onto me more than once. 

With the current mini lockdown here in BC, we're all stuck indoors not seeing anyone, even at the park. My boxing gym is closed to classes, so I haven't been training. More than anything else, I think that is the cause of today's weariness.

That's okay. We're all allowed those days. I'm going to bed early tonight and starting fresh tomorrow. 

I had intended in writing the bare minimum today, but hit over 250 words by the end of the main body above. I also feel much better, like a weight has lifted.

Distance Grandparenting

One of the things about moving a world away and starting a family so far from our own childhood homes is that we can't share our kids with their grandparents as they grow up and blossom into the incredible people we know they are becoming. I know both Claire's and my parents would love to be able to take Ada and Connor at the weekends. For my parents especially, our kids are their only grandkids.

And likewise, we love sharing our kids with their grandparents, aunts and uncles. 

Thankfully, we live in 2020[1], not 1920, or even 2000. Social media is easy to access, and we can send photos and videos in an instant direct from a device we carry in our pockets. 

But, of course, it's not the same. Regardless, Claire and I try to keep our families in the loop with all the things our kids get up to, from the monumental first steps to the more banal first hair cut. 

Neither of us would think to give up the life we have here in Canada, but we also can't wait to get home to Ireland and spend a lot of time in the company of our families again. Maybe even abandon the kids with them for an evening and have a nice meal in peace. 

Oh, the luxury dream of a meal in a nice restaurant, child-free...

[1]- Let's not think of the pandemic that is stalling any of us from traveling to visit each other right now. 

Pokémon A-Go-Go

I still play Pokémon Go pretty regularly. 

When the early Beta launched in the summer of 2016, before it was officially released here in Canada, I got the game through the US mobile app store. Yes, I was one of those sneaky players that added to already overstressed servers by playing in a location where the game hadn’t launched yet. 

I gave up playing after that first summer, as soon as the weather turned and the lure of sitting in a park with 200 hundred strangers until long after dark, all playing the same game together but alone, had worn off. 

Some friends got me back into it in the summer of 2018, after new features like trading and social gameplay had been introduced. I played it a lot that summer again, and even into the winter. I made loads of new friends in my neighbourhood, rushing out to join group battles, called raids, and catching up with everyone for a few minutes. 

It’s been a great activity to have on while I take the kids for walks, as it tracks distance for hatching eggs ingame, or even catching Pokémon with zero effort thanks to to a little Pokéball device that connects to your game anad can automatically catch the imaginary monsters while I’m pushing Connor on the swing or chasing Ada around the grass. 

I don’t play it every day anymore, and I certainly don’t go rushing out ot raids unless it’s nice and warm out, nearby, and I have nothing better to do. But it’s still nice to say hi to friends. And still exciting when a new batch gets added to the game. 

Gotta catch ‘em all! 

Gaming Dad

My large board game collection has been largely gathering dust since March. Actually, apart from a complete reorganising in the early days of the first lockdown, it’s been entirely gathering dust. Up to recently, I’ve avoided adding to my collection, knowing that I wouldn’t be getting to play any of them any time soon. As well as saving money, it removed the feeling of the cult of the new, or of “missing out” on new releases. I figured if I was still interested in a game once all this was over, it was worthwhile adding to the shelves. 

But in the last couple months I’ve cracked and added a small number of games to my collection. Not including Kickstarters that I had backed pre-pandemic, all the new games I’ve gotten are ones I can play with my kids, mostly my five year old daughter. We’ve turned the morning into a regular game time, putting the screens away and playing a few games face-to-face. 

I love board games for the social, hanging out with friends aspect, and I really miss that during this extended time of physical distancing. Playing games with Ada helps a lot. Seeing her grow and understand games and rules more and more makes me so happy. I hope she’ll at least tolerate occasionally gaming with me when she’s older. I’d hate to have to guilt trip her into playing Inis again with her nerdy dad.

I’ll still do it. I’ll just feel bad. 

Sweet Pepper Man

My son is weird. 

Growing up in my house we always had an old sweet tin stocked with chocolates and biscuits and treats that we could pretty much dig into at our leisure. It was always there when the cousins and friends came to visit, or when a neighbour popped in for a cup of tea. Because it was always there, my siblings and I never really thought about it. We didn’t just eat chocolate bars all day long, and never went looking for something before meals. 

That said, I do have a wicked sweet tooth. I enjoy my chocolates and biscuits, even the inferior ones we get here in Canada. So does my daughter. Ada will happily devour a chocolate bar, or raid the cookie jar when she’s hungry. 

But her brother can’t even finish the thin shell of chocolate on a Kinder Egg. Connor hsa never shown the least interest in sweet things, beyond a sense of obligation because Ada is getting something. He rarely finishes even the smallest ice cream cones or sweet deserts, much to Ada’s joy. Even a sweet apple will be picked at and then mostly left untouched. 

However, Connor loves a good, crunchy Granny Smith. He’ll happily nibble the heads of broccoli while I chop and prepare them, and he adores fresh, raw, red bell peppers! Today I took him shopping to Safeway and he insisted on picking out a pepper to buy. Fine by me. I had planned omelet for dinner and needed half. He could eat the other half, I thought. 

Connor had other ideas. This evening, while I was preparing dinner, Connor ate the entire bell pepper. I just had to cut out the seeds and white connective tissue and he ate whole thing like a sliced apple. I had to text my friends that live near us to see if any of them could offer a replacement. Thankfully one did, but when I started cutting it up Connor ate half that too!! He then went on to eat his entire dinner on top of that, and a few forkfuls of my omelet besides!

My son is weird. 

Murder, They Streamed

When the pandemic first hit back in March and we were all stuck indoors with little to no warning, Claire and I needed something we could share in the evenings that wasn’t too heavy after a long day of anxiety and worry and two very energetic kids. 

We had just gotten Amazon Prime Video so I fired it up and quickly discovered all twelve seasons of Murder, She Wrote was available. I grew up watching it on Irish TV with my mum back when it was prime time, must-see TV, and have many, many fond memories associated with this murder mystery series. 

Centered on senior widow turned mystery writer Jessica Fletcher, Murder, She Wrote felt like a very different show from its contemporaries even when I was a kid. Despite being about a new murder every week, it seemed unusually goodhearted, lead in no small part by the personality of Angela Landsbury in the lead role. 

So we started watching season one in early May, and quickly found ourselves watching several episodes a night after the kids were in bed. Because one of the core tenets of the show is that all the clues to solve the case must be presented on screen so that an obsevant viewer could fessibly solve it along with or before Jessica, it’s great fun to bounce theories off each other during the episode. I remember the joy I felt as a child the few times I solved the case, and that hasn’t diminished with age. 

What has come with age, however, is a much deeper appreciation for how progressive the show is from episode one. Not only does it break the mold with a female lead that is much older than the norm, but it is ahead of its time in social awareness too, taking time to be positively diverse and unconditionally suppportive of minorities. 

In an early Season 1 episode, Jessica follows a suspect off a bus and into an alley at night. A young Black man stealthily follows her off the bus. When Jess gets cornered by two white men in the alley, the young Black man steps in to rescue her. Turns out he was a fan of her books and recognized her on the bus. He knew it was a rough neighbourhood and wanted to make sure she was safe. Little moments like that happen all the time. 

Jessica rarely trusts the words or actions of the middle and upper class white people she crosses, while repeatedly benefiting from the knowledge, kindness and observational skills of sympathetic Black people around them. 

One of the tropes Murder, She Wrote is best known for is that of the useless law enforcers. The police and homicide detectives Jessica regularly runs across are almost always dismissive of her opinions and observations, and are often just straight up comically inept. But, the first one shown to be smart, intelligent and insightful is a Black small town sheriff in a season 2 episode. 

We’re only halfway through Season 5, but so far, the only time we see a Black murderer was in (er... Spoiler?) an episode with a predominantly Black cast. I think we can give the writers that one. Even then, the reason for the murder was sympathetic, not out of greed, lust or vengeance like most of the others. The victim was revealed to have been trying to murder another character out of greed, and their murder was to protect that innocent person! 

We’re really enjoying watching Murder, She Wrote, and it’s shocking just how progressive and clever it is for a show from the ‘80’s and ‘90’s. At a time when several shows are pulling individual episodes from streaming services due to very problematic (read: blatantly racist) scenes, from the very pilot, Murder, She Wrote is refreshing. 

In closing, if you’ll indulge me, two more examples of how cool the series was: 

S02E09, Jessica Behind Bars is set in a women's prison, and there’s not a single male speaking actor in the entire episode! A few male cops show up in the final scene, but none of them have a word of dialogue! 

S03E21 used footage from a 1940's movie to set up the plot, presenting the movie clips as flashbacks, and recasting almost all of the original actors as the older versions of the same characters in the "present day"! A stunningly crafted episode.

Who? Who Are You?

I’ve now posted ten mini blogs in November as part of this Buck Fifty challenge, not including this one as I write it. I am very happy with my current progress, and genuinely hope I can succeed at completing the month without skipping a day. 

But what is truly surprising is how consistent the views have been. Each post gets around 25 views. I’m sure most readers are coming from my Twitter, as I’ve linked all but one there, and that post that I didn’t link got significantly less views. 

I’m curious who you are. I know one of you is my wonderful aunt, who’s mentioned my blog in the past when I was posting regularly too, and commented on one of these posts last weeks. Hi Carmel! 

But the rest of you are a mystery. I don’t mind. I write these for me. My blog has always been almost entirely for my own pleasure. I love going back through the archives and finding wierd posts from the last fourteen years! Moments that I’ve long since forgotten, moments that I’ll never forget, stories, reviews all sorts of stuff. Fourteen years. Wow.

Thanks for reading my nonsense. If you like, stick around for tomorrow’s post. It’s going to be a special one! I’ve been working on it all summer. 

Laying Tracks And Building Railhouses

I broke out my inner Adam Savage with the kids today. 

Thanks to rising numbers of cases of CoVID-19 here in BC, we've been asked to limit our interactions with people outside our immediate family for two weeks. This includes limiting time at playgrounds, so, once again, we're stuck mostly at home. 

My kids are taking these strange times wonderfully. They love spending time drawing, playing with their toys, reading books. But they also love playing with their friends, and they miss being outdoors. Normally a day rarely passes without some time at a playground, regardless of weather. 

Being home a lot more than usual, I've been trying to distract them with a variety of activities. Today's was the train set. We have plenty of track to build unique layouts and I really enjoy building them for the kids. 

But today I wanted to make it extra special, so I broke out the cardboard from the recycling bin, a scissors, tape and ruler and cut out some buildings for the tracks. The kids loved them. They're very basic and simple, and the cuts are less than straight, with no effort to hide the tape, but they bring joy. I liked making them, and I think tomorrow I'll try making a few more, maybe a bit more complex than a simple box. 

Plastic, Cardboard And Friends

I love boardgames. I love the challenge. I love the components. I love the art. I love the tactile nature of a physical, on a table, plastic and cardboard game. 

But mostly, I love the friends. When we first moved to Vancouver and chose this neighbourhood as our home, I googled for boardgame stores, found one within reasonable walking distance and treked over in the first few weeks after we had settled. It’s not there anymore, the whole area has been redeveloped, but it’s where I made a lot of new friends in this strange land. Over the years, boardgames was my jumping off point for many of my friendships, either through meeting people at conventions or being connected through other friends by way of “Hey, you both like boardgames, you should talk!”

And that’s been the hardest thing about these past seven months or so. Not being able to share a room with friends outside my bubble means no boardgames. There are options, but none of them support the casual chitchat of meeting up on an evening and laughing over some snacks and a short game. 

So, when all this is over, I’ll be hitting up every meetup and minicon I can find within moderately reasonable distance! I needs me my games, I needs me my friends. 

Sneezes And Diseases

This winter could be hell. 

For future posterity, we're in the middle of a global pandemic. Canada has been doing better than some, and British Columbia is doing particularly well. 

Claire and I have been very cautious this entire pandemic. We've worn masks and limited contact with people outside our bubble, and our kids wear their masks in the few stores we let them visit. We haven't had friends visit in our home since March. Social distancing has been difficult, but absolutely necessary.

Regardless, it's turning cold outside, and with the changing season comes the runny noses and coughs. That's exactly what Connor got last week, followed by Ada coming down with just a runny nose, much milder than her brothers, and Claire developed a cough. I've remained entirely symptom free. 

Despite being almost 100% certain it's nothing more than a head cold, we still choose to get Claire and the kids tested yesterday. Thanks to the wonderful staff at BC Children's Hospital, we were in and out in a flash, and while Claire was able to take a simple gargal test, the kids had to have a nasal swab. Ada took it like a trooper, but while Connor got very upset, the staff in the hospital were absolutely wonderful, very fast, professional and caring. 

Claire got her results last night, and the kids tests came back this afternoon. All negative. As expected, but still a relief. 

This isn't going to be the last sniffle we get, and so, it isn't going to be the last test we take. But we'll stay vigilant, stay observing all local recommendations, and stay wearing our masks. 

This winter could be hell. 

The Future Looks Brighter Today

I’d be remiss in not admitting that finally getting confirmation that Biden has won the US Presidential election hasn’t filled me with unending joy! 

I’ve spent far too long on Twitter today doing whatever the opposite of Doomscrolling is, soaking in the global joy and celebrations from everyone at the news that the treacherous tangerine dictator is on his way out. 

For what it’s worth, while we’re here, if anyone reading this thinks for a moment that those who voted for humanity should be more gracious in their victory and not rub it in the faces of the facists that lost, let me remind you that they are FACISTS. Being polite to them is not even unconscionable, it is the very least they should be worried about. Every one of his profiteering cronies needs to be hunted the way Nazi’s were after WWII, and every follower that utters the phrase “I was just following orders” needs to be locked in a tiny cell with a concrete floor and a thin mattress to rest on. 

For the rest

Of their

LIVES. 

To The Stars!

Whether it’s Trek or Wars, there’s never been a better time to be a fan of Star stuff. 

I grew up enjoying both, but partly because Star Trek was a weekly show, I think I had a special fondness for The Next Generation series. Also, Star Wars was on hiatus during my formative nerd building years. I didn’t even see Return of the Jedi in theatres, but I distinctly recall being in the theatre with my brother and a friend at a matinee screening of Star Trek: The Undiscovered Journey. 

But tonight I watched the latest episode of The Mandalorian, followed by the second episode of the latest season of Discovery. In case you don’t know, The Mandalorian is a series based in the Star Wars universe, following the exploits and adventures of a lone bounty hunter, while Discovery is based in the Star Trek universe, following the exploits and adventures of the crew of a federation starship.

Both shows are drastically different, and this happy sci-fi fan has room in his heart for both. 

The Mandalorian is a western that happens to be set in space, leaning heavily into tropes defined by the golden age of westerns in cinema and TV. This includes dusty bars, lawless border towns, backstabbing former friends, running jobs to earn pay and delaing with unexpected hiccups to seemingly straightforward tasks, all while riding mostly alone across baren emptiness between episodes, picking up allies along the journey. 

Discovery is bombastic space science fiction, with huge battles, gibberish technobabble, shiny technology, epic, galaxy spanning life-or-death, end-of-the-known-worlds plots, starring a massive ensemble cast of colourful characters and adding to that by picking up new allies along the way.

Mostly though, I chose to write all this to bring up that I just want to see a crossover special where The Mandalorian’s Amy Sedaris and Discovery’s Tig Notaro characters get to meet up and hang out together. I don’t care how. I just want to see these two characters together! They’re hilarious. I feel like they’d be the best of friends if ever they got to meet. 

Expect my next dozen or so posts to be fanfic of just that!

In Which I Have A Minor Revelation

I need to start making a bullet list of stuff I can write about quickly at the end of the day. Have a cheat sheet of short topics that aren’t all about my kids. Like, I have a bunch of ideas for longer format posts... which I just realised I could write over several days and still maintain my Buck Fifty streak. I just wouldn’t be posting daily. That’s the whole point of the challenge. D’oh. 

I do all my writing so far at the end of the day, and the number of typos I have to go back and fix would be embarassing if I didn’t have a chronic, progressive, degenerative neurological disease that causes my arms, hands and fingers to tremor and often not react the way I want them too. As it stands, I take it as a challenge! Still, I should probably endeavour to get it done earlier in the day when I’m less shakey, but then I have two small kids battling for my attention. 

Okay, new plan. I might not always post daily, but I’ll stay writing daily. I’ll post the longer format stuff when it’s ready, and shorter posts as I feel the urge to adress stuff. 

Nice. I started todays writing with no idea what I was going to do, and end it haivng a plan for at least part of the rest of the month. Score! 

I Don’t Know

I don’t know if I’ll make 150 words tonight, but I’m going to start writing. Tonight, the world stares at the United States of America in utter disbelief that a racist, sexist, corrupt, lying old white man can still get close to half the votes in their Presidential elections. For four years this man has actively worked to destroy everything good that the previous President put in place, as well as sundering older laws protecting the environment, minorities, the financially vulnerable, the sick and elderly, and many, many more in a multitude of ways. 

Almost half of all Americans apparently are either racist or stupid or stupid racists. It doesn’t make sense. 

And because of this, America is being drowned in white supremacists, and when people in other countries see that behaviour being rewarded, they start to feel empowered to be openly racist too. It’s infecting everyone, from my birthplace of Ireland to my home here in Canada. 

It’s disgusting. 

I only hope the next four years and many beyond witness a process of global healing. 

I hope, but I don’t entirely believe.

My Nightly Ritual

There's lots I love about being a dad. I could discuss my kids love of drawing, their imaginative play, their humanity and innate politeness, their joy, happiness and love of life. I could talk about playing board games with them, or watching them both learn how to use the iPad with little or no assistance. I could tell you the numerous times my son has turned to my daughter for help figuring something out and how she's responded by teaching him what she can. And maybe some time I will elaborate on those. 

But for now, I'm going to talk about my favourite time of every day with them. 

Bed time. 

No, not because they go to sleep and I get a few minutes of peace and quiet... Though now that I think of it... Mostly not that.

Our kids go to sleep by themselves. We help brush their teeth, and read them a few story books, then kiss them good night and leave. They like to read books in bed themselves, so we leave their bedside night lights on. 

And those lights are directly connected to my favourite thing. Just before I go to bed, every night without fail, I go into the kids bedroom to turn off the night lights. At that point I get to whisper "Good night. I love you" to each of them, and quietly tuck them in if needed. I get to see the strange and hilarious way they've fallen asleep, sometimes twisted around some odd way, often with a book lying across their face. 

It's the last thing I do every night. I'm tired, I'm sore, maybe I've had a bad day. Maybe the world is horrible. But every night, before I lay down and close my eyes I secretly tell my kids I love them. They never know. Some day I’ll tell them. 

Kids? Amirite??

I’ve wanted to be a dad since before I knew what that meant. I grew up in Ireland, the eldest in a family of four kids. Many of my cousins have four kids in their families. And then I fell in forever love with an amazing person who has three other siblings. Basically, I’d been conditioned to believe that four was the perfect number of kids in a family. 

Then I moved to Vancouver. 

Then I became a dad. 

I mean, a lot of other stuff happened too, but that’s not relevant to this story. 

Honestly, it could have ended there. One was enough. My life was full and complete.

Then I became a dad again. 

And that’s where it does end. For now. As much as I love kids, two of our own is enough. That’s how many we can fit in our car.  Kids are expensive here in Vancouver. And while they don’t exactly steal your free time, they do trade it in for unconditional love. It’s a good trade.

More to come. 

Gotta Buck Fifty?

Some people, my own wife included, like to take the month of November to write a novel in just 30 days. You’re only expected to write a first draft, so no polish or deep editing required, but it’s still a lot. A whole lot. The idea is just to get the framework out and on the page, not to have something publisher ready. But, yikes... That’s a lot of words. 

I’ve decided to join some friends online trying to write just 150 words a day for the month instead. It’s called the Buck Fifty Challenge. Started by someone I follow on twitter, it sounded like a good idea. Rather than try to build a book in a month, build a habit. Just write, even a little. 

Not everything I write will get blogged. Unlike the the novel challenge, this doesn’t have to be one continuous story. It can be letters, (<-150!), journals, poems, short stories, whatever takes your fancy. But, also unlike the bigger parent, you don’t have to make up missed days. Didn’t do your 150 yesterday? No stress, just move on with your week and try for 150 today. 

To learn more about the Buck Fity Challenge, follow this link to the creators tweet, and great, short video, all about it! 

You got this!

Post Script: I realized that, once I had highlighted the 150th word in this post, I couldn’t easily go back and edit before that. So, although I’d like to change a few things, I’m going to leave it. On to tomorrow! 

Short Story With Time Travel

This is another short story, and I usually post these without preamble or context, hoping the story will be enough to hold itself for as much as I want to tell. But I feel like this one does need a bit of context. For one thing, normally when I write a short piece of fiction for my blog, it’s a random moment, or the very first few paragraphs to a story. This time, it’s the very last page. It all started when a friend I know through Twitter posted the following exchange a few nights ago:

My 6 yo son: I want to go to your wedding.
Me: Which wedding? Mommy and my wedding?
Him: Yes
Me: But you weren’t born yet. You couldn’t go. You didn’t exist then.
Him: But I exist now.

This instantly sparked a story in my head of a kid somehow getting a time machine just to go back and be there for his parents wedding, but getting into all sorts of trouble along the way.

I responded to her at the time:

This is the start of a ripping great YA sci-fi book involving time travel, dinosaurs and the Temporal Enforcement Division, TED. "Sorry kid. TED talks, you listen. That's just how it is. I won't be taking questions at this time..."

And that was that. Or so I thought. In fact, my brain was running it over and over, imagining scenes and moments and set pieces, and I said so.

[Bleep]. I'm now writing the entire book in my head just to get that one gag into it. I have an ending... I [should] write it down before I go to sleep...

By this time, it was past 11pm. So I went to bed, turned out the lights and shut my eyes.

Then I got up again and got my keyboard for my iPad and sat up in bed and knocked out the following in about 30 minutes. It’s rough, it needs editing, but it was fun to write, and that’s all I care for. Enjoy.

***

He held the Time Piece in front of Connor’s face as it faded out of existence.

“Sorry kid. The adventure’s over for now.” Michael put one hand on his own Time Piece, and held the other out to Connor. “As an officer of the Temporal Enforcement Division, I am authorized to return you to your time of origin.”

Connor didn’t move. He looked down at the thick moss on the jungle floor. “It’s not fair! I just wanted to see my mom and dad’s wedding day. I wasn’t going to change anything, I promise!”

“I know that. Why do you think TED just sent a single officer, me, to deal with you? We keep the big teams for the big bads, the ones trying to rewrite history.”

“Then why did you stop me?” Connor asked, with maybe a little more poutiness in his voice than he had intended.

“Delay” the officer said calmly.

“What?” Connor looked up and saw, really for the first time, not the terrifying figure that had been chasing him since he first got the Time Piece, but a person, a regular other person that had a warmth in his voice.

“Delay. Not stop. You’re just 6 years old.” Michael placed one knee on the moss and a hand on Connors shoulder. “You’re too young to really appreciate this moment. Besides, if we’d let you go now, there would have been two of you there, and that actually would have caused problems for the timeline.”

Connor was silent for a long moment. “So I will get to see it?”

“Yes. And a TED officer will escort you. In fact, I put in a request for the job.” Michael thumbed the Time Piece and Connor saw that now familiar swirling of stars and streaks of purple, and suddenly he was back home. Michael stood up and took two steps back.

“Wait!” Connor said. “What if I tell people about this?”

“They’ll just chalk it up to a six year olds imagination. But you probably won’t. This is a secret that’s worth treasuring for yourself. See you in fifteen years, kid.”

“Fifteen years?!? That’s so long! Will I recognize you?”

“Sure.” Michael looked at his watch. “It’s 3:20 on a Friday afternoon by my timeline. I’ll hopfully be assigned your escort mission before the department shuts down for the weekend. I’ll see you Monday, personally speaking.”

Connor smiled. “That’s nice that you get weekends off.”

Michael shrugged. “Union rules. Nine to five, Monday to Friday. No overtime.”

The officer touched the control on his Time Piece and faded from existence.

***

There are things I’d certainly keep if I ever wrote more. I love the “TED talks, kid. You listen” gag, so the Temporal Enforcement Division would have to stay. I also love the idea that they run a strict Monday to Friday, 9 to 5 work week. Because they time travel, there’s no deadline you have to meet relative to your own time. You can take a break and drop in after a night’s sleep at almost the exact moment you left. I’d put in moments into the story where the officer shows up and seems a little forgetful of specific details of what exactly is happening, despite having been there moments before, because for him, it’s been a whole weekend.

Of course, there are things I think I’d have to change if I ever wrote more. I think the protagonist would have to be a bit older. For the short piece I wrote, I left the reference to him being 6 because my friend’s son is 6. But 6 is very young to be getting into adventures across time. I mean, it’s not impossible to imagine that for a kids book, it would just be a very diffferent story than I’m thinking of.

Anyway, thanks for reading. Sorry about the blog post title. I couldn’t think of anything better. If you liked it, that’s awesome! I like it too. If you didn’t, my friend responded to my initial story seed with “I love it!” so I blame her entirely for all of this and you can too. Either way, you’ll probably never see any more of this story from me.

Because that’s just how I roll! Peace out! [Attempts to leap dramatically out of view, catches foot on lighting rig, falls flat on face and dislocates a shoulder] 

Martha

Clark floated in the air above a city that was familiar but different. The figure before him matched his pose, but everything else was slightly unique, from the clasps on his shoulders to the design of the belt and boots and the raised “S” on his chest. He was younger too.

Familiar, but different.

“Who are you?”

The other smiled. “I’m you, Kal. A different you, from another world. This one, actually.” This other Superman gestured broadly around him. “Welcome to my Earth. We’ve been tracking a threat that’s shifting between the various ElseWorlds, as we’ve called them. They’re using quantum tunnels to break through the barriers and building up an army of-”

“Wait. Stop. I’m in another world?” Clark looked back over his shoulder to the west.

“Yes. You-“

“I need a minute.”

And within the blink of an eye, he was past the horizon.

***

The mailbox said “Kent”. The barn was the same red, but the farmhouse was a different shade of yellow from the one he knew. For just a moment he hesitated, thought about disappearing back over the edge of the horizon. Then Martha stepped out onto the front porch.

She dropped the mug she was holding when she saw him. He could have caught it before it broke, but, for some reason, his body was frozen in place.

“Clark?” Martha didn’t move from the threshold.

“Yes. But not from your world. I just... I’m sorry. I just wanted to see...”

Now she stepped forward. “You look so familiar, but... different. I guess the comics got it wrong. Parallel universe versions of ourselves don’t look identical to each other. Close enough, but not the same. You hold yourself like my Clark, though.”

“Genetically, there must be tiny differences that lead to physical changes. But we were raised alike.” Clark could feel his chest tighten. “And you’re so much like my mo-... Martha. I just wanted to... I just needed to...” His thoat closed up. It was only when Martha touched his hand that he realized he was standing on the ground.

There were tears in her eyes.

There were tears in his eyes.

“I couldn’t save her. I’ve saved so many, but I couldn’t save her.” He drew a ragged breath. “She got sick. It was fast, and at least...” He could taste the salt on his lips. “At least I got to say goodbye. But there was so much I didn’t get to say. So much I wanted to show her. I know you’re not her, but I just wanted to see you again once more, mom. To tell you I love you. I love you so much every day.”

Martha hugged him. For a moment, she just held him and listened to his gentle sobs. “I know. I know son. I’ve never doubted it for a second.”

Clark took a step back and grabbed the edge of his cape, pulling it to his face. When it dropped, the tears were gone, though his face was still a little flushed. “It’s okay mom. I won’t blow my nose in it again.”

“Again?!?”

They both laughed, long and hard. A few more tears.

“Would you like to come in for tea?”

“Just like mom.” Clark took a breath and turned toward the east. There was a pinprick shadow on the horizon, watching, listening, protecting, and respecting. He nodded once, then disappeared back toward the city. “There’s somewhere I have to be.”

“Maybe next time you’re in town?”

“I’d like that.” Clark turned his head to look at the woman who almost raised him one last time. “Is Jonathon...?”

Martha’s gaze drifted out across the fields. “He died years ago. Protecting Clark.”

Clark smiled. “Same. Typical dad. Some things never change.”

And with that, he was gone.

Resolutions

Hi.

It’s been almost a year since I blogged. My one and only post in 2019 was in January. This isn’t a post to excuse that or explain away why that was so, instead it is about 2020. The future. Now.

I’ve never been one for resolutions. I think they fail too often and make you feel bad about not succeeding at yet another thing in life. But then I saw a video that explained a lot to me. Veritasium’s, one of my favourite educational YouTube channels did a video about the science behind resolutions and tips on how to keep them, and it really resonated with me. Watch it below, then read on.

A few points stood out. Resolutions made for January 1st actually are statistically more likely to be met than ones made at any other time of the year. Don’t make big, sweeping changes, but instead small alterations that will grow to much more as you develop them into a new, ongoing habit. Honestly, the video covers everything, so if you’re reading this and you still haven’t watched, then go back and do that now. It’ll explain why my resolutions seem so inconsequential.

I’ve come up with four resolutions that I want to keep to. That seems like a lot in itself, but I honestly think they small enough to be manageable, but smart enough to grow into a life changing routine if I can just keep doing them. They are:

1. Drink one glass of water every day.

I drink a lot of fluids every day, but mostly in coffee, tea and the carbonated water drink Bubly. I’m not overly concerned about not getting fluids, but I do want to drink more water by itself. So one glass every day. I aim to try to get this done right at the start of each day, drinking it while the kettle boils for my morning coffee. Genius! Resolution 1.5 is to try to maintain a full water jug in the fridge, as it’s much easier choose that over a can of Bubly when I open the door and it’s there.

2. Draw a box every day.

I want to draw more, but instead of setting a goal to draw a full character or even a face, I’m just going to make sure I draw at least a box every day. And a 2D box, or “square”, counts, as long as it’s done with the intention of meeting this resolution. Obviously, I hope to commonly draw more, but I should be able to commit to and do something as simple as this, and once the routine is there, drawing more should come.

3. Write one sentence every day.

It doesn’t have to be poetry, it doesn’t have to be fancy, but I want to write more, and like the drawing one, this is how I’ll start. To accomplish both 2. and 3., I’ve pulled an unused notebook off my shelf and I’m going to keep it near me. I can draw and write in it at any time, but, along with the water, I hope to do it first thing in the morning. My mornings usually involve watching the night’s uploads on YouTube, so I’m confident I can take five minutes to draw and write one thing while I drink a glass of water. Also, blog posts count, so, no promises, but you might see more of me back here in 2020.

4. Read one book with the kids every week.

This is an odd one. I do read a lot with both my kids. I love when we read together, and I love how much they both enjoy books. This isn’t some huge change, as if before now I never read books with them, but I also know that too often, life can zip on by and it’s been a couple of weeks since I sat down and read something with them without any other distractions. I’m honestly hoping that this one evolves into “Read one new book with the kids every week”. But for now, I’m keeping it very simple.

So there we are. My resolutions. Purposefully very basic. I’ll update if I fail. I’ll update in a year if I succeed. But to kick things off, I’ve already drank a glass of water today, we read four books together on the couch this afternoon and I wrote this post this evening. As soon as I publish this, I’m off to christen that notebook with the first drawing, but also to note that I blogged, drank and read. I think I’ll use it to track my progress, though noting that will not count itself toward writing one sentence.

But while I have it open...