If My Heart Was Wires Wednesday, May 19, 2004

Music sounds different. Words mean new things. The dawn comes up like thunder. The kid's OK.

Our kid, that is, Mrs. WTJ's and mine, known to constant readers as Secret Thing #3. He's been swirling and kicking for a few months now, but we were holding our breath for some big tests to come due. They're back, they're perfect, and life resumes.

I been away a long time, as the Chief said, and that's mostly why. I didn't know what to say about all of this, and I got tired of talking about God and politics as a proxy. (I've also been buried under by the game, which is rapidly coming due and shot through with logical holes.) I'm not sure I want to turn this into a daddy-prose blog, but I'll keep you up to date. Mrs. WTJ is doing well, busy and tired but occasionally graced by flutters below the stomach. Big ultrasound Friday to suss out any physical problems. But a humongous problem has been ruled out, so we're pretty hopeful.

Other than that, it's been a hell of a month, huh? I've saved most of my religious yimyammery for correspondence with a new old friend--a buddy from high school who I've just gotten back in touch with. If I may drastically oversimplify, he's a proud Catholic who's largely ambivalent about America. I think I have equal faith in both, which is probably not good. Political moocoowing, meanwhile, I've mostly kept down, with the occasional belch of acid at the worst moments.

Anyhow. Glad to be back. More later.

@ 9:14:00 AM,

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