News

No news is good news, right. No, no news is no news. Flannery leaves tomorrow for orientation. We haven't sold or rented our house. Although she will be staying on the couch of some of our lovely, gracious friends tomorrow night (one of which is starting a PhD program next week) she doesn't have a place to stay in Boston.

Luckily, the wishywashyness of his moms hasn't stifled the creative spirt of our son. We found him in the basement last night making a penis out of bright green playdough. "It's a penis. I have one," he proudly remarked. A moment later he had flattened the penis and declared to me, "It's a panini now." The final evolution was a " . . . a banana . . . . a banana in a panini . . . .a banana."

On a different note, I think I should stop blogging and starting sending you all cards. Flannery instructed me to clean out the basement "craft" shelves which apparently contain upwards of 2467 cards and envelopes too.