Dude, I'm beat. Unfortunately, given that most of my days are pretty much alike, and I have a hard time remembering what I did during the day at the best of times, I don't know exactly why I'm tired. I just am.
When I mentioned this to Rusty, he asked me if I took young Master Sam out during the brief period of sun we had this morning.*
(If you haven't been following Vancouver's weather lately, then you might be surprised and excited to learn that the city just broke a record for "the most days of rain in January since the weather office began keeping records in 1937." We're talking 29 rainy days out of 31. If only I'd invested in that galoshes factory. Drat.)
You want to know what's crazy? Until Rusty asked me that, not only had I forgotten about our brief window of sun, I'd also totally blanked on the fact that Sam and I actually did have a rather splendid-ish time in the park today, first on the swings and then closely inspecting a tree that captured Sam's interest. Maybe that's why I'm tired. Or maybe my fatigue is due to some other activity I've managed to expel from my memory. I'm a little afraid to probe deeper.
So. Yes. Tired. Therefore, in lieu of a proper post, I offer you a peek inside my virtual wallet. In other words, baby pictures.
All together now: Yaaaaaay!
(For those of you who hate baby pictures and are cursing the 0.671 kilojoules of energy you expended clicking your mouse to come to this site today, scroll past the photos -- don't forget to avert your eyes! -- to the end of this post, where I've placed a bookish tidbit for you to enjoy as much as your cold, dead heart will allow.)
*Lately, our weather's been reminding me of that Ray Bradbury short story "All Summer in a Day" that was taught to me in grade five. I don't know whose bright idea that was, because that story continues to haunt the shit out of me to this day. If you're not familiar with it, the full text is available online here. Don't say I didn't warn you.