Howdy,

Happy Birthday, Titus!

Today, today, is finally the actual day, Ti’s birth date. Feels like finally since we already held his party a week ago and have talked a lot about his special day to come.

Today it’s here. He’s three years old.

We’ve also often alluded to or straight-up shared generously about Ti’s great, winsome smile, which is so generous in its own right.

(That engaging smile of his is the one that has his mother and me concerned for his future, as in, the one that will keep him from ever dating. Lots of charm in that boy, in that smile — when he’s not being a lovable little stink. 😉 Actually, that can sometimes be when the “charm” can come out. Winsome with a wink, that smile with a whiff of stink. I’m aware tone can be hard to get across correctly in written communication, and I always want to be careful not to be communicating a cut against one of our kids, which is why I say a lovable stink. Which is what I mean, and he can be both. Our smiley Ti is a talented little tyke. Besides, he was in that twos stage for a year; and it wasn’t terrible. Sure, it had its times of testing, but I’d never want to label that year negatively or with easy-pickings alliteration. You know how I sometimes shy from sentences showing signs of alliteration and such selections of style like some so-and-so …)

What is really cute is seeing Titus smile when he’s being sung to by those he knows love him. I’ve seen it at least four times over this last week.

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Howdy,

A check in on our Jake Jones story: from “Chapter 2,” a revision.

Here’s just a small piece:

Average height would’ve had his head in the clouds. Such that (and as only he and a privileged narrator of his story would know) pint-sized Jake tiptoed, at times — nighttime, in the dark, unseen to others — down his hallway. Bathroom to bedroom trips. Tiptoe trips. Bolstering height, by the only option he could concoct. Hard to figure when he’d use his tiptoe trick, but Jake built up his balance and stamina, strengthening his height, if such a thing.

Even so Jake stood nowhere near a consideration for reaching, or even jumping, for door headers, and his perspective remained anchored. Grounded, and going for his boost from the floor up. The “growing” boy sought to rise from the floor, though not yet ready to stretch and touch anything up. Deep in old, shaggy, carpet, tiptoes, pressing down hard for everything he could get. For a look at another level and wondering what it be like with a basketball, outside his hallway. Outside the night, like a dream.

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Howdy,

You know what you do not expect to hear from an active one who’ll be turning three at the end of the week?

“Can I have the keys to the car, Dad?”

Just kidding. Turning three years old.

Yesterday it was, “Dad, can I take a nap now? Dad, can I take a nap?”

Repeated like that because Titus seems to speak that way right now. Active and often. And in echo of himself, working through the canyons. So hard to think, to remember, that at his last birthday he wasn’t really putting words together much — not like now, however well he was or wasn’t uttering toddler talk.

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Howdy,

Self-assessment is so hard.

I mean when you have to reflect on questions and write something up, really think about it and come up with something that rings honest and true and fair, to the best of your ability.

Self-assessment is so hard.

It’s hard not to go too hard on yourself. That’s the temptation, at least for me, to be self-deprecating to the point of the tone taking a negative slant. Then it seems not quite to capture whatever good goes along with whatever it is or what’s been achieved.

Self-assessment is so hard.

On the other side, when you try to shift the tone of a self-assessment away from being overly critical of your own position and recognized failures and shortcomings, the summary can begin to sound a bit glowing and little things that are reached for seem to stretch into significant accomplishes that have an echo of “look what I did” or “look at what I am or have become.” And big things become grand, if you start to go for it.

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Howdy,

How’s your day been going?

Mine’s been fine, but now I’m sitting in a dentist’s office with a six-year-old — who seemed more interested in our talk about cemeteries.

Actually, I was sitting, I planned to be sitting while drafting this post, but now I’m standing in the doorway of the dentist’s office. I’m standing because the six-year-old-of-mine, Jasper, is in the dentist’s chair, getting X-rays.

I had to clear out and stay back … but also stay close.

Per the dental hygienist … per Jasper.

Today is only his second or third dental visit — and that actually sounds higher than the effect I want to strike, because it hasn’t been many and it’s all new to him, and if it is the third, it’s still only like two and a half trips because the first visits went something like “he’s too young; we don’t take him here” and then he somehow was seen by someone grumpy and gruff at a children’s dentistry, which just doesn’t make sense. Well, it makes total sense, but I’m saying if you go into the line of work of being a dentist specializing in children you should know what you’re getting into and not treat the little critters like they shouldn’t be little critters, ah, I mean, kiddos. Kiddos. Anyway, dentistry is tough on kids and kids difficult on Doctor Dentists. And, really, all this is if I remember right on how I heard the first visits went or didn’t go … — but it’s my first trip to the dentist with one of our kids.

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Howdy,

I was a young kid, but I still remember. It was so funny to me back then.

… And, I guess, it still kind of is.

So, there was a Christmas when I was young — held at my Uncle George’s house in Woodland at the time, a large Hawes family gathering — and he gave my mom a gift that said, “I’m a little behind in my work.”

My Uncle George has a great laugh, deep and full with smile to match, which may be part of why I remember it. But that day, he enjoyed it, and I enjoyed it, and I don’t think my mom minded it too much, either. It was funny. Tame and cute, puffy, quilted buns on an oven mitt or something to hang on the fridge with a magnet (maybe for a to-do list), with that cross-stitched or embroidered, “I’m a little behind in my work.”

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Howdy,

Today was a day of a little F&F.

A good friends and family day.

–Billy

Reading. Writing. Living.

P.S. It actually turned into a little F&F&F, since I did sneak in a little fiction editing as well.

Word Count: 52,842 / On Pace: 53,350 / Year’s Goal: 200,000

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Howdy,

One hundred posts, not bad. Not bad at all …

Not quite a 100th episode or something of that nature, it’s true — nevertheless, the number is cool to see.

I can’t say that I have taken it as so important that I have anything premeditated for it, for Number 100. I mean when I think of something special for today, it’s because today we’re celebrating Titus Shalom’s third birthday (a little early, which I just figure is bonus! for him since now he’ll have another special day to come next week. Starting with a breakfast of a cereal of his choosing — a fun tradition carried on from my family. My brothers and I enjoyed that birthday box of cereal, and it seems our boys do too.)

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Howdy,

I don’t know how to write — even as a quote — one of the best sentences I heard yesterday (Scripture itself being some of the others). It’s the Interjection! that’s hard, tricky to get entirely right, tough to capture its power, its treasure.

Just a breath. Inspiration.

Ahh! Interjection, one of those lovely Eight Parts of Speech remembered so fondly by so many, from that favorite lesson in grammar, a favorite section of language arts. Right? Wasn’t that a favorite part? PoS. English class? No? Hmmm …

I’m going to call it … excitement being breathed in, sucked in making a sound. An interjection.

“Whh-huhp, there’s a seat right here, dad!” Continue reading

Howdy,

The Biblical verse John 10:10 may be familiar, being popular I figure 10:10 rings out a bit. It’s about life — and it more abundant. “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly,” Jesus said.

What hit me today was the verse that comes one before. It says: “I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture.”

(I’m not trying to thump anyone over the head with the Bible here, but that’s what hit me, as I said. That’s what I read in my Reading Writing Living of today. Having Community Bible Study on Wednesdays will do that, I suppose.)

Also possibly familiar is the metaphor of Jesus as the door. Familiar and famous, but also extremely important, so don’t miss that point, but it was the end of the verse — 10:9 — that arrested me, got me thinking and the reason I’m writing about it.

How wonderful does the notion of passing through a door of salvation to a peaceful pasture sound? So restful and safe. Enter. Be saved. Go in and out. Find pasture. Pasture.

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