One-Line Bio

Just another ambulatory meat suit looking for a dance with the pinball wizard, and you?


Blog DOB: January 3, 2007

Status update: February 26, 2017, Last update, March 25, 2016


I write, you read. I keep twenty rolling posts published at all times (unless for some reason I do something else). There are generally five posts published on the side bar under the Pages header. These posts rotate about once a month and are mined from the archives going back to 2007. You do not have direct access to the archives from this site.

This bio is updated approximately twice a year (apparently not). This is the first time it contains absolutely zero personal information. I wonder how long that's likely to last (apparently eleven months).

I can be contacted directly at alectosophelia at yahoo dot com

This is the update (Feb 26, 2017) part:

I can see this but you can't, at least not yet. My daughter Lucia, called Lucia here because she would have been named Lucia if her father hadn't had a brain fart during labor and picked something else, was once called Cletus because it fit. Cletus was cute in a prickly sort of way and troubled in an oh my god is she going to survive herself sort of way all through high school and right through the first of two gap years and even the second was a crap shoot. The day she moved into a freshman dorm at twenty-one was the year I started to breath properly again. Five years later I've put her wedding rings together and she's begun her graduate work. It's time to begin putting her older posts up on the wall. There was a time when Cletus broke my heart the same way Elizabeth is breaking it now but for different reasons and in different ways.

Elizabeth was barely six years old in January, 2007 and in retrospect already tentative in what she would share and what she held close. She is a young student. It feels like yesterday, really it does, like yesterday when we put her on school bus #8 which later became #14 and shipped her off with nothing but a name tag to identify her on the other end. We could only hope her kindergarten teacher would reach out and catch her in the sea of swirling first day back k-2 students. She was four years old. She will be seventeen when we move her into her dorm assuming she does not take a gap year or two. I don't expect her to; she is too intent on following the dotted line to the next destination as if it were a scavenger hunt with a giant golden egg at the end. This worries me somewhat because there is no giant golden egg at the end; it's turtles all the way down but I suppose if I worked that out there's every possibility she'll work it out too. She is driven forward, propelled by something other than just me and the best I can do sometimes is get out of the way.

My son Mike, that really is his name because, you know, how many Mikes are there in the world? If I told you, you wouldn't believe me anyway. When he was born, of the ten baby boys in the nursery in 1986, eight of them were Michaels. For real. So where was I? In January, 2007 my son Mike was twenty and change. He didn't live with us much longer. I'd have to look through the archives but I'd put his exit somewhere in the late summer or early fall of that year. I don't believe he was quite twenty-one yet but I could be wrong. As the first child he bore the brunt of my parental fumbling, idiocy, unreasonable harshness, unrestrained joy, fluttering and encompassing love, and even when he was ejected from the home an underlying belief that he'd find a way to pull himself back up without me. I don't know how to explain that he got the largest share of my heart as the first born of my three, the child of my very early twenties without making it sound as if my girls were shorted, because they were not. However, when you have what he had you also have the capacity to break your momma in a way which I'm not sure the other two can. That doesn't sound quite right. Your momma has a way in which to break herself that I'm not sure she can with the other two. That's better. Gets the accountability back on me where it pretty much belongs.

So that's the February 26, 2017 update. It's probably time to comb through the archives and publish early posts on the grown and nearly grown children.