Home Again, Home Again
Sep. 4th, 2007 07:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lydamorehouseI need to go over to SFNovelist and blog something clever about Tate's newest release MANY BLOODY RETURNS, but I thought I'd ramble on about my life over here for a while before I settle into writing work.
LaCrosse was wonderful. Despite missing an opportunity to meet up with fellow LJer, I had a great time. My folks are still mostly spry enough that they can chase after Mason (and, more importantly, they WANT to), which means that Shawn and I actually caught up on a whole lot of napping while there. It was rather divine. I even got started on Tate's next book DEAD IF I DO. I wrote three whole pages.
Probably the best part of the trip was the Labor Day Parade, however. I took a lot of video of it this year, and maybe if I can figure out how, I'll post some to YouTube. The parade only takes place on the North Side. For those of you unfamiliar with the political/socio-economic factors governing my hometown, the North Side is, simplistically-speaking, the "wrong side of the tracks." It's the working class neighborhood, which, when I was a kid was populated by a lot of people with Trans-Ams. We used to have a swamp/dump about three blocks from my house, which I used to play in as a kid. It was full of frogs, cattails, broken cement and rebar, and the ocassional discarded household applicance. The train tracks were right there, too. When I was in high school there was a big kerfuffle over the fact that the busing routes had been re-zoned and a whole bunch of the "rich" kids (they were no more "rich" than we were "poor") had to transfer to Logan. People were seriously worried about thier precious sons and daughters being knifed by the likes of us lowly north siders.
It's appropriate that the Labor Day parade happens on the north side. Anyway, it's a very homemade kind of event (much like the north side, really). Various unions march with union flags (that say: Local Teamsters Union No. ###) and American flags, and toss candy to the kids. Mason thinks of this parade as "the candy parade." The police union marches. The teacher's union marches. The Democrats march. The union plumbers march. The firefighters and postal carriers march. The electricians march. The clots of average-looking working people in union t-shirts are broken up occassionally by a marching band or the Oktoberfest German polka dancers. It's very surreal in a way, but very cool. It's also not terribly long, given the size of LaCrosse. The whole thing probably lasts a half hour at most. Then the union folks all meet down at Copeland park for beer (Wisconsin!) and brats (Wisconsin!) and shop-talk. I wore my National Writers' Union t-shirt (UAW, local !981!) in solidarity.
I love it.
Back to home, I returned to a house full of hungry animals. Our cats somehow managed to eat everything we set out for them, and all our fish survived somehow without my constant intervention. Miracle of miracles.
Mason had a parent-teacher conference today at 8:15 am. We, of course, were early. Ironically, the one other lesbian couple happened to have the appointment right before we did, so Mrs. R. was able to tell us that Mason won't be the only kid in her class with two moms. We explained that Mason is reading, but deeply under socialized, and she seemed to take it all in stride. (I'm not sure she understands the level Mason is reading at, however. Just today while I was reading Calvin and Hobbes to him, he confessed to reading ahead by one panel.) We had a kind of off-putting experience at the library however. Mason was anxious to repeat the experience he had before at the Open House, but thanks to some poor communicating by my part and an extremely anal librarian (not the one we'd bonded with before) we were told "parents should stay in the front of the building" and ushered out like we were an invading army or criminals or both. It put Mason in a very low mood, and I feel badly because I think that if I (or Shawn) had been quicker to explain that Mrs. R. had okay'd the before school visit we might have been allowed to stay. It wasn't a big deal, but I feel kind of badly about it because Mason got so down.
To make up for it, we spent the rest of the morning at the public library and then at the Red Balloon where I let him by a whole new Calvin and Hobbes collection. He was over it pretty quickly. New books will do that.
LaCrosse was wonderful. Despite missing an opportunity to meet up with fellow LJer, I had a great time. My folks are still mostly spry enough that they can chase after Mason (and, more importantly, they WANT to), which means that Shawn and I actually caught up on a whole lot of napping while there. It was rather divine. I even got started on Tate's next book DEAD IF I DO. I wrote three whole pages.
Probably the best part of the trip was the Labor Day Parade, however. I took a lot of video of it this year, and maybe if I can figure out how, I'll post some to YouTube. The parade only takes place on the North Side. For those of you unfamiliar with the political/socio-economic factors governing my hometown, the North Side is, simplistically-speaking, the "wrong side of the tracks." It's the working class neighborhood, which, when I was a kid was populated by a lot of people with Trans-Ams. We used to have a swamp/dump about three blocks from my house, which I used to play in as a kid. It was full of frogs, cattails, broken cement and rebar, and the ocassional discarded household applicance. The train tracks were right there, too. When I was in high school there was a big kerfuffle over the fact that the busing routes had been re-zoned and a whole bunch of the "rich" kids (they were no more "rich" than we were "poor") had to transfer to Logan. People were seriously worried about thier precious sons and daughters being knifed by the likes of us lowly north siders.
It's appropriate that the Labor Day parade happens on the north side. Anyway, it's a very homemade kind of event (much like the north side, really). Various unions march with union flags (that say: Local Teamsters Union No. ###) and American flags, and toss candy to the kids. Mason thinks of this parade as "the candy parade." The police union marches. The teacher's union marches. The Democrats march. The union plumbers march. The firefighters and postal carriers march. The electricians march. The clots of average-looking working people in union t-shirts are broken up occassionally by a marching band or the Oktoberfest German polka dancers. It's very surreal in a way, but very cool. It's also not terribly long, given the size of LaCrosse. The whole thing probably lasts a half hour at most. Then the union folks all meet down at Copeland park for beer (Wisconsin!) and brats (Wisconsin!) and shop-talk. I wore my National Writers' Union t-shirt (UAW, local !981!) in solidarity.
I love it.
Back to home, I returned to a house full of hungry animals. Our cats somehow managed to eat everything we set out for them, and all our fish survived somehow without my constant intervention. Miracle of miracles.
Mason had a parent-teacher conference today at 8:15 am. We, of course, were early. Ironically, the one other lesbian couple happened to have the appointment right before we did, so Mrs. R. was able to tell us that Mason won't be the only kid in her class with two moms. We explained that Mason is reading, but deeply under socialized, and she seemed to take it all in stride. (I'm not sure she understands the level Mason is reading at, however. Just today while I was reading Calvin and Hobbes to him, he confessed to reading ahead by one panel.) We had a kind of off-putting experience at the library however. Mason was anxious to repeat the experience he had before at the Open House, but thanks to some poor communicating by my part and an extremely anal librarian (not the one we'd bonded with before) we were told "parents should stay in the front of the building" and ushered out like we were an invading army or criminals or both. It put Mason in a very low mood, and I feel badly because I think that if I (or Shawn) had been quicker to explain that Mrs. R. had okay'd the before school visit we might have been allowed to stay. It wasn't a big deal, but I feel kind of badly about it because Mason got so down.
To make up for it, we spent the rest of the morning at the public library and then at the Red Balloon where I let him by a whole new Calvin and Hobbes collection. He was over it pretty quickly. New books will do that.