This NaBloPoMo has really been a slog. Sometimes I find that writing more generates more writing. This year not so much. I guess that's okay.
I'm just home from book club, which means I've been out every night this week. It was a very good book club. We talked about The Big Short and whose mother was a horrible cook and used too much Campbell's soup and too many substandard ingredients, and listened to Leonard Cohen and the people who love listening to Leonard Cohen were outraged by the people who don't love listening to Leonard Cohen (apparently there are people who don't love listening to Leonard Cohen, did you know this?) Then we talked about who we had seen in concert who was good and who was horrible - sometimes the same person was good once and horrible another time.
Angus is in Burlington until the week-end for OFSAA - I don't know what that stands for even though I just looked it up. It's kind of a funny story; he's been playing school volleyball for the past few years and loved it, but this year he said he didn't want to play because it was too much to do that and train for baseball and keep his marks up. This sounded eminently reasonable to me, but Matt was kind of grumpy about it because he thought Angus just didn't like not being the best at something. I told him to pipe down, it was fine. Then the coaches called Angus into a special meeting to ask if something was wrong at home or something to make him not want to play volleyball. I threw up my hands and withdrew from the whole process. He ended up not playing volleyball, until he came home six weeks or so into the school year and said "so they want me to play volleyball" and I said "uh, yeah, we know, been there, not done that" and he said "no, I mean, they REALLY want me to play volleyball". So although Matt says this just isn't done, where they let you onto a school team halfway through the season, it just sort of happened, and then they won all their stuff and now they're at the big end-of-season thing and his report card was really good, so he kind of got the best of all worlds.
And he's not here, which is fine, but weird, and I'm tired. And I don't know what to write about, so I'm babbling. Oh, I narrowly avoided buying Eve an obscene ugly Christmas sweater from some website on Facebook. So there's that.