The Writer Swears

Two things:
The @#%&! meant nothing terrible, just "d***". OK, d*mn. Now, I see something else to swear about, down there. Not just grammar, but spelling: "lost THAN" not "THEN". I DO know the difference. D*** it.

Knights In White Satin

About the Knights: That's my team, the Knights of The King's Academy in Sunnyvale. I is indeed their coach now. A full 10 of the 27 on the roster seem to like me fine. (The new kids.) The 18 returning veterans ain't so sure. None of these kids would have any idea why my headline is so clever. "We don't wear white satin, Coach." Never mind.

Why I So Rarely Post

Because I can never find the *!@&#! thing. It's awful to have a blog and lose it. But then...'tis better to have blogged and lost then to never have blogged at all. (Make that "to never have" ... wait... "then never to have" ... maybe that's why I can't ever find this thing. It's God's mercy, saving me from the certain shame of grammatical error.) I swear it took me AND my friend Geralyn both 19 minutes to locate this thing. I have no problem with the other one, which is bipolarexpeditions, on blogger.com. Now, you'd think maybe I'd give you a link to that. Fat chance. I'm low-tech, baby. This Valley weren't all Silicon-ed upside its Valley head like it is now. But show me a ripe prune and I can hit Steve Jobs square between the eyes at 50 paces.

Knights and Hummingbirds

Must Be Fred. I mean Fed...So I got the job, and I fed the hummingbirds, too. They're back, Dad. At 7:30 p.m., September 11, the first bird came back for a slurp, one part sugar, four parts water. I cried, of course. I just picked that up where I'd left off, pulling into the driveway this evening, after seeing Mr. Bohlke down the street, mowing his yard. It just got to me. A day goes by without a sob, and I think maybe it's getting better, but...it's OK. Grief has no calendar.