One Way to Navigate Through Scylla and Charybdis
A Piece From the Charliad

Today Is the Day

Yes, it is here. That singular event of the summer.

The day when Jim is gone all day to teach with the start of the fall semester.

Obviously it is going to be a bike-ride less day.

I'm not quite sure about the rest, other than that there will be long endless drawn on moments when utterances for dad-on-demand (the way, when I went to California for maybe 40 hours in June, Charlie called for mom-on-demand and, since I did not materialize, there was great upsetting of tables, a plastic dish rack, the refrigerator and the infamous run across the street to bonk the neighbor's tan car) -- when such utterances do not provide the requested result.

Maybe a walk or two. A car ride, I would think, though maybe not, as sometimes Charlie refuses to leave the grounds (of our home space) when either parent is gone.

Big Stim-thing. Charlie having engaged in this for record-setting amounts of time for over a week, I have been -- amid actually getting work done on a piece about his unique 'oral traditions' plus the getting-usual writing about Pussy Riot and other topoi, and digging into the nice little piles of books about Greek history and Greek poetry and Homer and Herodotus that now occupy the floor around my desk -- thinking a lot about what all this (the stimming, Pussy Riot, a lot of Greek) could mean.

Well, the stimming: Possibly if not a way to limn the darkness, chaos and riot within, a way to mediate and maybe contain it for Charlie?

He did a fair amont of it, though with a bit more flexibility to step away from it, on Tuesday. He and Jim had picked me up on Kennedy Boulevard and then we'd dropped Jim off on Sip Avenue within a short walk of Journal Square and the PATH train and gone home. Charlie dozed after lunch, awoke and waited peacefully (if stimmily) for Jim and then went on a bike ride. We all went to get groceries and Charlie helped himself to sushi in the car: His appetite is back after last week's fare of mostly watermelon, apples, and crackers.

While Jim (yes, I know it's past midnight) put finishing touches on his syllabi, Charlie is in the brown chair. Between things, Charlie's shot us a few smiles and talked a bit.

I think he's going to stay up with us; he has done so in the past few nights. Round the clock sticking together it is.

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