From last night’s episode:

Earl: “Van Halen started with two brothers. We could be Van Hickey! And Ralph.”

Ralph: “I bet if we played with real instruments, we could have sex with real girls! Yeah, rock ‘n’ roll, honey!”

Grey’s Anatomy, I love you so. Especially when I have insomnia and you, on tape.

Meredith: “Guilt never goes anywhere on its own. It brings its friends, doubt and insecurity.

McSteamy, to Callie, when her cell rings while they’re in bed: “That your boyfriend again?”
Callie: “I do not have a boyfriend.”
McSteamy: “Then why the guilty face?”
Callie: “You were sexier when you weren’t talking.”

A disclaimer: While I am a professional writer, I am professional in no other areas at all, medically, socially, academically or career-wise. Just ask the other PTA parents. Thus, this is not medical advice. Please check with your doctor or analyst if you need to.

If you have questions, please shoot me an e-mail. It’s not like I’m sleeping.

Love,
WM

Dear Wacky Mommy:

Signed,
Happy Mama

(more…)

“He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”

— Friedrich Nietzsche, philosopher (1844-1900)

That’s what I’m saying!

Quote of the day, from one of the second graders at school: “We eat bats in Palau! Did you know that? I’ve eaten bats.”

Six kids in unison, admiringly: “What?” and “Nuh-uh!”

Me: “I’ve eaten snails. They’re called escargot in French.”

Seven kids, in unison: “EWWWWWWWWWWWW!”

“The only devils in this world are those running around in our own hearts, and that is where all our battles should be fought.” — Mahatma Gandhi (1869-1948)

“I had a friend down the hill, in the long shadow of our building, whose mother cooked us meatloaf. When I discovered meatloaf, and that other mothers regularly cooked it for their children, I went home and said, ‘Other mothers cook. Why don’t you cook?’

Without hesitation Mom said, ‘Other mothers don’t write books.'”

— from Sean Wilsey’s “Oh The Glory of It All”

“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.” — Robert Frost (1874-1963)

“Poetry is the clear expression of mixed feelings.” — W.H. Auden, poet (1907-1973)

“Words strain, /
Crack and sometimes break, under the burden, /
Under the tension, slip, slide, perish, /
Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place, /
Will not stay still.” –T.S. Eliot, poet (1888-1965)

From Wacky Boy: “Mom! Flush toilets in Iowa! With a space cracker!”

And really, I did not know what to say to that.

We all have sun poisoning and some of us have mojitos poisoning here after a big, long, fun weekend. Went with our friends and their lovable children to Cannon Beach. Four parents, five blonde kids and the windiest day I’ve ever seen at the beach. The guys immediately begin digging a large hole for us all to put our chairs in. It was an admirable effort, you should have seen it. The women decided to bail and go shopping because Cannon Beach = shopping. I restrained myself and bought only a small gift for my mother-in-law, who is visiting soon, and two tiny bags of rocks for the kids. Not just rocks! Fancy rocks. In tiny black velvet bags. You find yourself doing things like this at Cannon Beach, convincing yourself, or worse, your friend, that more than anything you need that tiny bag of pretty shiny rocks.

And Hockey God forgot to pack a bottle of pinot grigio for me. So what was I supposed to drink, in the hole, with my chair? Away from the wind and the sand and the attacking seagulls. No fear, I had Bocce Pinot Grigio with dinner, and a glass of another white, too. It was… who knows. But it was delicious, as well.

I highly recommend Fultano’s Pizza in Cannon Beach for dinner, and Moe’s Restaurant for breakfast, lunch and dinner. (How many Moe’s are there? Three? One at Siletz Bay, one in Tolovana Park on the far side of Cannon Beach, one… somewhere? Damn. Sorry. Memory lapsing.)

Cannon Beach is home to the Cannon Beach Bakery, where they sell loaves and loaves and loaves of Haystack Bread. You will also see one of the Oregon coast’s Haystack Rocks. (This article says there are two: one at Cannon Beach and one at Pacific City, but an old friend says there is a third, and insists it’s at Rockaway. I can find nothing to back this up, but he’s adamant about it. And says that the one at Pacific City is the “real” Haystack Rock; the others are mere impersonators. Yeah. See what I mean? The beach… rocks… things take on a big significance there, you’d be surprised.)

Must get sleep now, too tired. Have a great week. I’m off to housesit for a friend in a couple of days, and Internet connections are supposedly spotty out her way. How can this be?

Have fun, must run.

Love,

WM

A good quote to remember, every day:

“First they came for the unions, but I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t union. Then they came for the communists, but I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a communist. Then they came for the Jews, but I didn’t speak up because I was Protestant. And then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak up.”

— Reverend Martin Niemoller, German Lutheran monk arrested by the Gestapo in 1937

“I love being a writer. What I can’t stand is the paperwork.”

— Peter De Vries, editor, novelist (1910-1993)