> TIME TO MOVE ON

Hello, old blog. Haven't been here much, haven't written much. Life is being written nonetheless; it is time to push the numbness away. Not because it is fully dissipated; no, it is still present, just as surely as my brother is still gone. But everything else has gone on anyway. Couldn't help but think about him while the Dodgers were in the playoffs, while the Rams were winless, and while the teabaggers were screaming incoherently at the President. But the football season is on, Halloween has come and gone, and soon it will be Christmas once again.

The younger LOST's continue to grow like weeds - leaps and bounds in some respects, and the oldest LOST from his perch in the high tower of academia is extending his wings and striving to fly, soaring and sometimes faltering, all the while learning. The younger one works on padding his resume - not in a bad way, but simply trying to add layers to his identity - in pursuit of his blue and gold goal - and beyond.

Mrs. LOST emerges slowly from the funk of the illness-no-one-had-previously-heard-of, and promptly learns that returning to full activity after downtime is not as easy now, as it was even 5 years ago. Kneebraces and Advil. Icepacks and elevation. Huzzah.

The house ages, not always gracefully, and in its worse moments cries out for TLC that it tougher to give at almost fifty, but no less necessary. Dirt flies, curses fly - whose idea was this anyway (Mrs. LOST?)?, and ultimately the old is gone, soon to be replaced by some as-yet undefined "new."

Joy and relaxation beckon only eleven days away, but with much to accomplish between now and then - chief among the achievements must remain avoidance of H1N1. Traveling and that kind of illness do not mix at all.

Can't pay as much attention to the big world. Seems like its stuck in neutral. Not angry with the Pres, but losing some patience. Move faster toward the things you campaigned for. End the war, get people back to work, cover the uninsured. Sigh,0 at least were not eating Mooseburgers and bombing Tehran.

Faces - familiar but more weathered. Older, some cases grayer, more gaunt and more rounded, but all testifying to the same thing. Moving. Moving, ever forward.