the eleven-year-old goes to tennis lessons reluctantly, but it's part of a deal whereby he gets to play more video games, if he stays active, gets outside, etc. he doesn't wear a jacket, even though it's cold. he maintains that they don't teach him much. he is, however, hitting better, and at least going through the motions.

late at night he's a little charged up, having finished a very long match. his game is called minecraft hunger games, and he had teamed up with a guy to become the last two survivors. then they turned on each other, which is to be expected; although they are friends, that's how the game goes. the friend has a lot of extra armor but no soup. the eleven-year-old has plenty of soup but less armor. the friend's hits do a lot more damage and the friend wins.

some nights i listen to such stories and i realize that he's filled with rage because the guy that beat him was a cheater, or a "hacker"...other times i listen just to listen, and try to figure out what he's going through as he has these battles to the death with people he has come to know. he would, after all, rather be with some other kid on skype, in this world, than in the real one, though he'll participate in that one also. my older boys would argue that they always knew the line between real and imaginary when it came to these video games. but i'm not sure they always knew the difference, or whether anyone really kept track of what the games did to their minds. i'm still mulling that over, but also feel virtually powerless to prevent a kid from going full scale into something he really likes to do.

a cat snores somewhere near me. upstairs, where the boys are asleep, i had to shut the door to keep the kitties from chewing the bay-blade handles all night. down here they get up into the tree and chew on the tree's lights or on the pine branches. the fire is down to embers though it had its moments earlier in the evening. i've gotten so, rather than make a roaring one, i try to see how much warmth i can absorb out of a few dying logs, rather than put new ones in, because i'm cheap and it's too hard to cut them. tree lights, glowing embers, snoring cat, i'll just call it a night and come back tomorrow; the boys have one more day of school before break. the road near our house has calmed down; school is out. snow may come on christmas. the apocalypse day, friday, is working its way our way, and is three minutes from here, but has already hit virtually every other time zone except the ones that are due west. my friends were inquiring about the exact time, but what do i know? i'm thinking, life will probably just keep on keeping on, and that might be a rude shock, especially in places where they've been thinking about it too much. i'll declare december 22 'borrowed time' day and just say, from here on in, don't take anything for granted. if one cycle ends and another one starts, it's time to sort some laundry.