Author: Matthew Groff

  • Napping

    The kid hates naps. She hasn’t regularly taken one for over a year now. Oh sure, now and then she’ll take one, but it’s pretty rare. Now, if we suggest taking a nap, she treats it like a punishment.

    We all know that in about eight years or so, she’ll get back on board with napping. Then she’ll be like us, and want to take naps but can’t find the time.

    But you know who gets naps on their own terms? My 77 year old father. He naps when he feels like it and it’s glorious. I am jealous, that’s true. I would to be able to accomplish a task like he does, and then reward himself with a nap. Yet another thing to look forward to in retirement,

  • The New Blog’s Anniversary

    So, one year ago, while still in the middle of the pandemic, having been laid off from my job, and just barely holding on to any semblance of a normal life, I decided that I would start up my old WordPress blog again, and commit to writing a post five times a week for the next year. And just see what would happen.

    And here I am a year later. The facts are that I went from, if I was lucky, one person reading a post to now having four people reading a post. Previously, I had 60 followers after three years of off and on blogging, to now having 221 followers. I have had seven comments shared over this year, and a bunch of likes. And I also know in the world of online traffic, that this isn’t a blip on anyone’s radar. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate more than anything that I am not yelling into a void. That people take the time to stop by, like something, does make me feel good, and not so alone.

    When I picked up blogging again, I did want to better myself as a writer, even though I wasn’t exactly sure the type of writer I wanted to be. And honestly, I’m still not sure. But I did know that if I wanted to get better at anything, I had to practice. I had to put in the time, and start doing the work. That meant committing to something, and doing it on days that I didn’t want to do it. And reading over things that I wrote, and admitting that it sucked and I could do better. And slowly, I started to enjoy the work, and look forward to the work.

    So, to the four of you that will see this today, thanks again for stopping by. I have, hopefully, another year of work ahead of me. Let’s see what happens.

  • Contemplations of a Brook

    We got out of the City for a few days. Where we found ourselves was in the country, on one of our planned vacations, and next to where we are staying is a brook. Where I’m from, we would have called it a creek. Or maybe it’s a stream. Either way, its water rushing over rocks. Nature’s white noise machine. And it is a rushing, turning, moving brook. I dare not wade into it, as I think it would carry me away. The water is clear, and I can only imagine very cold.

    As I have looked at this brook for the past couple of days, I want to know where the source of the water is. I want to know where it is going. The water passes through the property, but I have no gage on the role this water plays in the countryside. Is it spring feed? Does it come from the mountains? Is it created by the rainfall? I know all water makes it to the sea, but does the brook stop off at a pond or a lake?

    At night, when I go to sleep, I hear the rushing of the water, and it is the first thing I hear in the morning. The birds calls around here have to fight to be heard. The movement of water, passing and going. The continuous, calming sound.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Summer Day Camp’s Last Day, Vacations, Tottenham Anxiety

    “Odds and Ends” is my continuing series of random thoughts and follow ups…

    Today is the final day of the kid’s Summer Day Camp, and it went wonderfully well. I think the wife and I over did it asking the kid if she wants to go back next year. The answer is yes, and hopefully, we can give her a month there, instead of two weeks. The other thing that made me happy about the camp is that our daughter had no qualms about being away from us for 6 hours, and in fact, wanted it to be longer. To me that says she is in a healthy place with being away from her parents; She wants to separate and have her own experiences, like a normal kid.

    Now we start the stretch of vacations. Yes, that is means more than one this Summer. We were lucky if we got away for one vacation a year in the past. And most of the time a “vacation” was just leaving home for a few days, and could also mean visiting family, which sometimes can be the opposite of relaxing. For us to go someplace and actually relax and not doing anything has been rare. This summer, we’re getting two trips. I feel very spoiled in saying that, even a little self-conscious. I know this is due to Covid and being trapped home for the past 15 months, but wow! I really want to get the hell out of this apartment for a couple of days.

    So… Tottenham is a bit of a shit show right now. Have they even picked a manager yet? Is it Nuno? And Harry Kane rumors are all over the place, but Tottenham has him on contract for one more year, and I still hold that Kane made that, “I want to be on a teams that wins championships” statement to get management to do something, like build a team, or keep the talent they have (like Son) and solve that defense issue they have in the last ten minutes of every match! Friendly matches start up next week, so I hope to see some changes myself.

  • Personal Review: “Unread Messages” by Sally Rooney

    (The short story “Unread Messages” by Sally Rooney, was featured in the July 12th & 19th, 2021 issue of The New Yorker.)

    When it comes to authors, I am the worst type of fan. I have been following Sally Rooney ever since The New York ran a piece on her, right before Rooney’s second novel, Normal People, was published. I watched Normal People on HULU, but I have ever read a word of her fiction. I collect books, but sometimes never read them. Which I guess does beg the question, can you be a fan of a writer yet never read their writing?

    That changed this week, as I read Rooney’s short story, “Unread Messages” in this week’s issue of The New Yorker. I was actually excited when I saw her name in the table of contents, because I can now read this author.

    It is a story about Eileen and Simon, and their lives together and not together. As what I was expecting from Rooney, the characters are in their late twenties and early thirties, moving from early to middle adulthood. The story was in two sections, relatively. The first was a meet up for coffee between Simon and Eileen at lunch, which they flirt, and Simon asks her for advice on how to deal with a friends odd platonic/romantic entanglement. Then the story shifts back in time, giving the background on the characters, and proceeds to move forward. I feel the first section takes place after the end of the story. It’s not high drama, but it is the story of love and wanting to be loved.

    What I took away most was Rooney’s skill at writing. The words and sentences are short, succinct, and to the point. Nothing feels superfluous, or indiscriminate in the construction of the sentences. This is writing that moves ahead, but doesn’t feel rushed, in the sense that, I felt like I was getting exactly what I needed to know. Which is strange that a character, that plays a supporting role to Eileen, is mentioned as having been admitted to a psychiatric hospital, and then is never brought up again. I found this decision odd and puzzled why it was made? To bring Eileen and Simon closer, but even that felt too simple. And that is how I would describe the story; simple. As in the end, the central question of this story is, “Are they, or aren’t they going to get together?”  

    But it was a beautiful, simple story, written by an author that is very confident in her ability to write.