Author Archives: Chayli

There’s a little boy in my house who loves to play with construction equipment. He plays and plays and plays, be it with semis and trailers or excavators and dump trucks. Half of my dining table is almost always occupied with a scattering of machinery, big and small.

All this usage, and the little boy being only two years old, makes for toys that get broken and battered and eventually unusable. His very first favorite construction toy was a little yellow excavator. Even when one of the wheels fell off and the boom went limp, he had to have that toy every single day. It eventually went the way of all toys, and other excavators came along. But one by one, they, too, got lost or broken, and finally all he had left was a Lego excavator that kept falling apart.

Oh, he had plenty of other construction toys, but the semis were all missing wheels, and the dump trucks had dried out Playdough stuck in their cabs (if they even still had a cab), and the trailers didn’t hitch up to the semis very well anymore, and . . . despite all that, he faithfully played with his toys.

Then one day I heard this contented and happy little boy say very quietly and wistfully, “I wish I had a skidsteer.” ...continue reading

Valentine’s Day, and the days surrounding it.

Last year, it was candles and flower petals and chocolate-covered strawberries. It was takeout from Outback Steakhouse in the comfort of our own home. (Thanks, Covid.) It was hand-written cards and a quiet evening. Literally the calm before the storm. Because it was also an ice storm. A long power outage. An absent husband from all his running around helping other people.

This year, there were no candles, flower petals, or strawberries. There was no storm either.

Life isn’t ever perfect. Sometimes one part of it is, sometimes another part of it is, but it’s never all just entirely perfect. And that’s part of the beauty of it. ...continue reading

Spoiler alert: an extremely long, rambling, and probably quite boring exposition on our last six days of existence here on Egan Street. Consider yourself warned.

My to-do list for today very plainly says, “Don’t blog until after weekend,” with a row of smilies after it, but I’m realizing that since I’ve started blogging again, I tend to write about the good. And mostly just that. It’s easier to post cute pictures and expound on the toddler and his kitty than it is to even try to begin delving into the hard.

But if there’s any time to try, it might be now. Because it’s been hard. There hasn’t been a lot of sweet or cute or easy. And maybe instead of waiting till I have something fun to write about, I should just jump in now.

So at the risk of sounding like I’m complaining, here goes . . . ...continue reading