Haiku #188

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Written on 11:28 PM by Jack B.

Is a quiz a test?
Or just an early warning
Fail now, fail later

Haiku #187

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Written on 8:48 AM by Jack B.

Get up, lazybones
Pass or fail, no middle ground
Now pay attention

Haiku #186

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Written on 5:42 PM by Jack B.

Humid day sweat drips
Burning eyes, can't see, don't rub
Quick I need water!

Haiku #185

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Written on 3:59 PM by Jack B.

My brain turned to mush
Sleep, television, junk food
This is vacation?

Happy Father's Day!

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Written on 3:50 PM by Jack B.

Today is Father's Day. I was going to write a haiku about it but decided three lines wouldn't be able to put my thoughts into words. Fathers are important. In our current society sometimes that fact gets overlooked. Sure, some people may be able to overcome the minority of abusive or absentee fathers out there but for many others that kind of thing can have effects that will last them throughout their lives. On the other hand, a supportive and loving father can make all the difference in the positive life choices their children make and (especially if they are males) affect how they treat the opposite sex and children of their own (if they have any) in the future. My own father and I rarely agree on anything, argue all the time and are as different as two people can be...and yet I can honestly say I'm happy to have had him in my life and he's always been there if his children need him.

Happy Fathers Day to my Dad and to all Fathers out there.

Haiku #184

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Written on 11:25 AM by Jack B.

Rise from your slumber
Be a light onto the world
Up, excelsior!

Babies are Amazing Creatures

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Written on 11:54 PM by Jack B.

My niece, Monica Grace, was born two weeks ago now but I didn't see her for the first time until last Friday. Until that time all I had to go on was what others had told me or pictures from the hospital and those didn't exact put her in the best light. So when I saw her for the first time with my own eyes, my heart really melted and it was then that she was really REAL to me, an individual person in her own right, the product of the same little sister who I remember (vaguely) as a baby herself. She was so small (I didn't expect that, both her parents were large babies) and so soft, everything from her skin to her hair seemed like it had just spent the day in the bath (which it hadn't).

Now to be honest, all she does now is sleep and eat and poop and she can't recognize anyone yet - all that comes with time but I just found myself watching her. She was constantly making movements even when she's sleeping, I kept asking my sister if all she does is sleep (since thats all she seemed to do when I was there) and my sister asked me what did I think the baby was supposed to do - to which I responded, "I don't know, entertain us or something". Obviously I haven't been around babies much.

I was also struck by how much she already looks like my sister...and me...when were that age. Heck, my sister and I don't even look anything alike and yet here is her little baby with the same slanted eyes that I had, the same eyes that my father's mother who died in 1961 way before I was born was said to have. Amazing stuff (to me at least).

Hard to believe that :

This Baby At 11 Weeks

&

This Baby At 20 Weeks

are the same as this little baby I saw Friday:

Human Life is a pretty amazing thing, isn't it?

Haiku #183

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Written on 3:41 PM by Jack B.

Sun comes out to play
Summer sheds its cloak of May
O beautiful day!

My newborn niece, Monica Grace (though I refuse to call her such)

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Written on 6:13 PM by Jack B.


The first (and thus far only) member of the next generation of my family. Born Monday, May 29th (she was supposed to be a June baby, but fate had other plans, I guess). I still haven't seen her yet (been working and working), though judging from the pictures she's pretty small (just over 6 pounds). She just got out of the hospital and went home today. The name, Monica, still does not trip off the tongue. She just doesn't look like a Monica to me. I've decided to call her M.G. or Mony instead in hopes one of those names stick.