Saturday, February 7, 2009
Alexander's story is finished--it took a pretty tragic turn. Chris, the hero, ended up with an arrow in the soft spot of his head (original illustration by the author, above), and the cyclops ended up winning all the battles. That's the way it goes sometimes.
Monday, February 2, 2009
My son Alexander (7) is writing a book about a three-eyed cyclops. Believe it or not, I had trouble finding a picture of a three-eyed cyclops, so this one-eyed version will have to do.
I don't want to give anything away, but so far the hero, Chris, has undergone training to fight the monster (which, as a three-eyed cyclops, must appear a monster even to his fellows); for some reason, in the middle of his training, Chris was tricked by his trainer to enter a girls' bathroom--I guess it was to toughen him up for the battle ahead; a princess has died from an arrow shot straight down through the "soft spot" in the top of her head; and the cyclops has "freaked out" because his son and daughter died in battle. In an unexpected plot twist, the daughter turns out to be the very same above-mentioned princess.
That's it so far, but with Alexander there is sure to be more to follow.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
You may have heard we have a few mice in the house; I've spent the last few days trying to kill the little guys. I know it goes against my general stance on kindness to God's creation, but I've read The Plague--they need to know who they're messin' with. I'm leaving this one out as an example to the others.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
There's an Emperor Penguin in my fridge, perched atop the Gatorade. I'm not sure how he got in there, since in my opinion a penguin (even one as royal as an Emperor-type) would not be able to open the door--I mean, they can't even use their wings to fly, much less open a fridge door. I suspect one of the kids saw him languishing in the warm South Georgia winter weather and gave him access to the top shelf. I'll let him stay awhile until he recovers, provided he leaves my Sam Adams Winter Lager alone.