Particularly flies. There have been so many flies this year.
I will be sitting at my computer, trying to get a post written for you lovely people when buzzzzzz! I will be dive-bombed in the head by a particularly noisy specimen. It’s really beginning to have an impact on my work. To make matters worse, these flies not only don’t have any respect at all for personal boundaries, I’m even starting to suspect they are purposely trying to thwart my writing attempts. Case in point, one morning, I turned my back a second only to find that one had thrown itself inhto my morning coffee. I told it while dumping the mug out, that ruining my coffee was just being cruel, but I don’t think it cared.
I’ve tried the hunt and swat method. I’ve tried the “GUYS, FOR THE LAST TIME SHUT THE DOOR!” method too. Nothing seems to work. For every fly I remove, another one seems to pop up in its place.
It’s like whack a mole, except the only tickets you gain after playing, are receipts from the groceries you’ve had to buy to replace the food they’ve ruined.
It’s also remarkably hard to achieve a zen way of thinking or discuss a life lesson when flies are around, believe me I’ve tried. I guess that’s why kung fu masters in movies are always trying to ask students to catch them. Speaking of flies, I wanted to share another book I’ve recently read.
First – if sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll turn you off, this is not the book for you. That’s not my attempt at a reverse psychology sales pitch, but an honest warning. Seriously, pick something else.
Nineteen-year-old Harry Spittle has returned home from university, only to be told he is expected to pay rent. He takes the first job he can find as a waiter at a nearby hotel, where he gets to know a wide variety of people including sadistic chefs, small town gangsters, pretty girls, and overly competitive pumpkin growers, but really the story is about him getting to better know himself.
I admit, I didn’t immediately follow the story due to British idioms I didn’t quite understand, but once I was more familiar with the characters’ mannerisms, I found it to be an enjoyable read. Often humorous, the descriptions are particularly well done, straddling that fine line between too little and too much. I was especially amused during the scenes featuring Harry’s mother’s cooking. It almost seemed as if the author might have been pulling from personal experience.
But the downside of any coming of age story is the reminder that eventually we all have to grow up. Just as this book made me reflect upon my first summer jobs it is a reminder that one day my children will no longer be children too. I may no longer have to worry about the door being left ajar or the buzzing of flies they’ve let inside, but I won’t hear the sound of their games, their jokes, or their laughter on a daily basis either.
So as much as the buzzing sound annoys me, if it also means I get to enjoy my kids being kids, I’ll guess I’ll find a way to put up with it a while longer.
At the park, the sun shone down with only a few clouds breaking up the brilliant expanse of the otherwise blue sky. I settled onto a bench inside the playground as LT climbed up on the play set designed for the bigger kids. “Look at me,” he shouted as he crawled through the plastic tunnel connecting a pair of slides.
The temperature dropped a good five to ten degrees (F) as we made our way down the gravel path connecting the trail with the outside world. As always, I felt as if we’d been teleported to some distant place as the canopy of trees stretched out above us. “This way,” LT requested, pointing in the direction of one of his favorite places along the path – a small bridge arching over an even smaller stream.
Once again I nodded and soon he was grabbing rocks, twigs, and bits of dirt. The water bulged where LT had added his obstacles, rising over the additional rocks as it rejoined the existing flow. It was hardly Niagara Falls, but it was enough of a difference in height for LT to declare success.
“If you lost all your skin …, would you die?”
It will no doubt stun my children to realize that their, oh, so young looking mother lived at a time when the majority of households lacked a personal computer. I mean, personal computers existed, but they were the size of a microwave oven (or larger) and the cost more than a few car payments. As a result, the most exposure most kids received was in the computer lab at school. Considering the laws of supply and demand, the lack of household market also limited the number of available programs, especially those designed for young people. However, our school system managed to find one that both educated and entertained (it helped it came bundled with the operating system). It was called – 
Allie Potts Writes 