Category: Life

  • Snow Fatigue

    I don’t know if that is a real thing, but I am going to chalk up all of my feeling of exhaustion and the sore right elbow that I have to “snow fatigue.”

    Yes, I shoveled our car out of the snow once the blizzard let up. I took the kid with me, but she was only into cleaning the car off for about fifteen minutes. After that, she just wanted to play in the snow. Don’t blame her, I still like playing in the snow.

    After cleaning off the car, we went to the local park and did some sledding. We have a two-seater sled, which we are rather good at. Yet, for some reason yesterday, we just kept heading toward the trees and bushes, or we were tumbling down in the hill. Not that it really mattered, we were having a good time. We even got in a snowball fight; as you do.

    This morning, when I woke up, I was sore. Sore in my elbow, neck, and knees. Add on top of that is the feeling of continual fatigue. I got almost all of my chores done, yet I can’t shake the feeling that if I sit down, I will fall asleep. In fact, I’m having the toughest time staying awake as I write this. I just want to go to bed.

    Making it hard to focus.

    Making hard to get anything done.

    Making it hard in general to generally do anything.

    Again, I blame the snow.

  • Snow Day, Again!

    My fire escape this morning.

    Taking it easy today. Might have to stay in pajamas and read. Kid is home from school so there could be board games as well. Naps and sledding seem likely, as well as an attempt at a dog walk coupled with digging out the car.

  • Short Story Review: “Predictions and Presentiments” by Valeria Luiselli

    (The short story “Predictions and Presentiments” by Valeria Luiselli appeared in the February 16th & 23rd, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Jesús Cisneros

    “Predictions and Presentiments” by Valeria Luiselli is a short story that gave me a reassuring hug. The reassuring didn’t come in the form of any answers to the questions which the story brought up, but it reassured me that life is about growth and discovery.

    Overly Simplistic Synopsis: After a divorce, a mother and her daughter spend time in Sicily, not too far from where the mother’s grandmother is originally from. And they try to cook a swordfish head, too.

    In the story, the main character has a small mosaic fragment of the god Proteus which her grandmother obtained/stole from an archaeological dig she was working at. The mosaic fragment is a clever dramatic device in the story. But I had this thought in my head that “Predictions and Presentiments” was a bit like Proteus; it kept shifting and changing. Was this a story about just the narrator, a mother, and her daughter? Was it about her grandmother as well? Legacy trauma? Family origin story? Connection to the past, or the ancient past? What truths do we share with our families, or do we make fictions out of those truths? Can we change who we are, or we destined to our nature? Is our future but a guess, or is there a way to logically know what’s coming?

    This is a story that walks a very nice tightrope of keeping it all together. I couldn’t shake the feeling that at any moment the mother and daughter could spin off into ruin. I can’t say where in the story I got that from; perhaps it was the refrain of starting over in a new place, the perils that come with beginning again, and discovering something new? Maybe it was the climax of the story, or the fishmonger who sold the fish head? Or it could have been how not everything that happened in this piece got wrapped up neatly, or fully explained? This created a feeling of fragmentation, that Proteus mosaic again, but Luiselli held it all together. See, it reassured me that life is messy, not neat, but wonderful to experience.

  • Our Dog is “Neighborhood” Famous

    I was running errands in the neighborhood this morning, and I was on the corner of an intersection which I frequently cross often if not a couple time a day, and where there was a coffee cart. As I was waiting for the light to change, the woman in the coffee cart leaned out the window and yelled at me, “Where’s your dog? Is she okay?”

    It took me a second to register that she was talking to me, and that her questions weren’t the ravings of a lunatic. When it hit me that these were meant as friendly questions, I responded that the dogs at home.

    “I don’t see her anymore. I was wondering if she’s okay.”

    “She’s fine,” I said, “we just changed the time we take her for a walk in the morning, is all.”

    “Okay, she’s a cute dog. Very funny.”

    The light changed, so I thanked the lady, and wished her a good day as I crossed the street.

    She wished me and my dog a good day as well.

  • Day Off with the Kid (Unedited)

    You know, I never really feel like I have a day off. Today, President’s Day, is a day off for the kid. She slept in, video chatted with friends, did homework, read a little from her new book, and generally has been a really good kid. I don’t think she’s brushed her teeth yet, hence why I am holding back and giving her a “generally good” rating.

    Me? I had to get all the normal Dad stuff accomplished. The feeding of everybody, and doing laundry, and making sure this home runs smoothly. Not that I am complaining, but it’s not till 4pm that I get a chance to sit down and do this; put a blog up.

    But something that has become painfully clear to me know is that I am running short on days that she will sit around the apartment with me. I can’t stop her from getting older, and more than I can stop myself from getting older. Soon, on days like this, she’ll be off to her friend’s place to hang out. I wouldn’t call this a melancholic thought; more like a dark realty of the world that is barreling toward me whether I’m ready or not.

    The solid truth that I hold to is that as my kid gets older, that this is the most enjoyable age to be with her. Like the baby phase was great, and who doesn’t love a snuggly cute baby! But, the kid now has opinions, and can make jokes, and likes to show me stuff that’s she learned, and it is infectious to be around a person who’s view of the world is still optimistic and exciting. I like this age. And in another year when she’s a teenager, that will be the best time! and so on and so on.

    This might just be the fastest eighteen years of my life.