It's coming up on 4 PM and I have to head home to meet the boys. On Tuesday's we don't have anyone to watch them for the 45 minutes from when they get off the bus until Amber gets home.
I don't know if my parents were negligent, but I remember being nearly as young as Dylan and fending for myself at home after school. Maybe that's why my friend Maurice still visits from time-to-time.
Maurice is nice enough. He ages tremendously well. He is adamant that I don't introduce him to others, in fact right now he's terribly embarrassed. I feel bad, but he just came up in my bloggersation.
So - my fellow followers, you may have noticed that there have been some changes to my cyber-world. I'm digging it right now. The newest gadget is the chat box to the left, your right. ===>
I'm not sure if it will survive, but we'll see where it takes us. Feel free to leave a message there. There is also a little tag box of sorts below the blog - feel free to check one or more of them, if you are not so inclined to leave an insight. Some of my followers have mentioned how they aren't sure what is fiction or what is autobiographical, and that they are concerned. The fact of the matter is, the blog is just like life. How you perceive it, whether it's real or fantastical in nature is dependent on your your paradigm. I make no justifications or excuses. I am after all the walrus. I did not shoot John Lennon.
"So - now that we are finished with our little stroll, what would you like to do now?"
"I'd like some tea and toast, and perhaps take a little nap."
"Very good, let me warm up the water for you."