24oct2010 5:33PM CMT BKGY
Jack has been climbing up the stairs. To the top. And Sits there with a big wide grin. His arms wide, each one holding a remote control, which he blinks on and off. He has fallen a few times. Not for lack of trying, we have tried to prevent this. We have up gates and he wormed his way through them. Already outsmarting us.
It is thundering outside. Haven’t heard real lightning in a long time. It goes on for far longer than I remember and longer than I thought possible out here in the MidWest, like dropping a rock down a very deep well, the crumbling thunder keeps rolling on and on, reminding me of a Finnegans’s Wake passage:
The fall (bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk!) of a once wallstrait oldparr is retaled early in bed and later on life down through all christian minstrelsy.