Any Minute Now, I'll Be Awake

Okay, so yesterday I was at work at five-ish. Today, a slightly more sane 7-ish.
I left work yesterday with the Pirate, who came to pick me up. We went to go see League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, which was one vast, unrelieved landscape of puerile plot, horribly bad cinematography and characters that, despite the fact that they are all previously-realized literary characters, were barely more than innacurate stereotypes. It's disappointing that the writers had Captain Nemo, Alan Quartermain, Dorian Gray, Dr. Jekyll and the invisible man, and they couldn't scrape together a better story than they did. Ah well. Ours is not to question why. Ours is but to get revenge by writing something WAY better and then selling it for fat wodges of cash.
I have signed on to write both a gardening column and an ongoing children's story for a local guy. That'll be good. The children's story is one that I had been writing for my daughter a long time ago about an adventurous woman who loved to explore the world via food. The woman's name is Philomena Hogg-Wahfles, and at the end of every story is a recipe for little kids. The garden column is going to be pretty much how to garden with children. That should be easy. Children should be planted early in summer (pretty much the second school's out) head-down in well-aerated soil. Keep moist, not wet. Fertilize no more than once weekly (any more and they grow too quickly and you end up replacing their entire wardrobe several times during the course of the summer). Planting head-down is vital as it keeps the whining to tolerable levels. Plant them wrong-side-up and you're in for a summer of whining.
Having said that, I miss my girls. They're still at my folks' house having the time for their baby lives and I'm unable to go for more than about twenty minutes at a time without thinking about them. I have that feeling that people have about their favorite relationships, where everything you see you want to share with that other person, every thought you have you want to give to that person, and even if you have nothing new to share, you'd just like to be able to look across the room and see that person's face. The little one will be back Sunday, the older one not until the end of August. I just keep reminding myself that they're having a great time.