December 17: Tired From His Romp, Busy Days, Nothing Special

Tired from his romp, Wilbur lay down in the clean straw.  He closed his eyes...

Wilbur does not deal with attention well.  Even though Charlotte's little trick is going to save his life, all the visitors to the Zuckerman barn exhaust him.  All he really wants is his pile of manure and a nap.

I understand Wilbur's yearning for a little peace.  The Christmas season is building up steam.  I have so much to accomplish in the next week.  Christmas concerts.  Christmas cards.  Christmas potlucks.  Christmas poem.  Christmas shopping.  Christmas music.  And, of course, finishing up the Christmas album I've been recording.  It seems, right now, like an insurmountable list of tasks.  Right now, sleep is not an option.  I have busy days ahead of me.

After I am done typing my blog posts, I have to do a little cyber Christmas shopping for my nieces and nephews.  That will take me a good deal of time.  If I'm in bed by midnight, I will be lucky.  I'm not feeling particularly inspired tonight.  Therefore, this post will be nothing special.  In fact, it will be nothing.  Emptiness.  A post about not being able to post.

That's all Saint Marty's got tonight.

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December 18: Christmas Concert

My daughter was well enough to go back to school this afternoon.  My son got on the school bus this morning.  Things are getting back to normal after a couple of days of bubonic plague at our house.  When I picked my daughter up at the dance studio tonight, she was back to her normal self, ignoring me and playing with her iPod and Kindle.

Tonight, I went to my daughter's Christmas band concert.  Imagine an hour of music played by sixth grade to high school students.  I think I heard about seven or eight versions of "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" in that space of time.  My daughter is not self-conscious enough yet to be embarrassed by me; she actually waved at me and laughed when I stood up and clapped for her.

Tomorrow, I'm hoping to attend my son's Christmas program.  I say "hope" because I'm not sure I'll be able to get away from work.  I asked for the time off, but I don't think my boss remembers.  At least my wife will be there if I can't.  Last year, my wife couldn't get away from work for his program.  It looks as if our roles are going to be reversed this time.

Work really gets in the way of Saint Marty's life.

Sad, but true