So here's the problem: I'm graduating and I have no clue what I want to do with my life.
Everyone rants on and on about this amazing potential I have and how I could do anything I wanted if I'd just apply myself. This begs the question.
Everyone else in my family follows their bliss but my bliss doesn't lead beyond the next party.
My kid brother, the firebug, wants to be fire chief.
He's already off to a good start by saving the family, the guests and the house after a prank with Devin's birthday cake went terribly wrong.
Devin's found a sweet little house and is happily churning out books.
Being an international super spy like Mom might not be so bad
If it weren't for getting called in to work at all hours of the day and night until she's too tired to get home.
So, when Ayesha Ansari, the local crime boss, asked me to do a few little favours for her, (for which she was willing to pay handsomely), I jumped at the chance.
When the old bat asked for another kind of favour
But as long as the relationship stays strictly professional, it's all good.
Although I was on my way to jail
When they buried the old man.
He was at the police station, looking for a new case, when blam, it was curtains for him.
Mom had a few choice words for me about missing the the burial
But there wasn't too much she could say, since she got called into work before it was over.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
The offal of our community keep me busy. Calls to examine evidence come in at all hours.
I finish the overtime too exhausted to climb the stairs and collapse anywhere to grab a few precious z's before my regular shift.
In my free time, there are sources to interview...
Research to conduct...
And reports to write.
The twins are nearly ready for high school. Macklin wants to grow up to be king.
Devin is unimpressed.
He wants to grow up to be an illustrious author.
And now Byron is in school as well.
With the boys in school, I could be anywhere at any hour:
From looking into money laundering at a charity ball,
To researching arms smuggling in Shang Simla,
To investigating ticket forgeries in Al Simhara.
Fortunately, Blaine has taken on the lion's share of the cooking.
When he discovered that I'd kept seeds from my parents' garden, there was no peace until I permitted him to plant them.
Marlowe helps me out with research when he doesn't have a case of his own.
Giving me some time to learn the piano.
And paint, mostly in the same honeycomb style that Daddo used. I call this one "Grey Matter".
Macklin turned thirteen without incident, at a small family party.
As did Devin.
It isn't fair of me to blame Byron. It was Macklin who decided to raid the bar.
Unaware that his father was watching out the window.
Which put an end to an otherwise lovely party.
Marlowe's trying boot camp tactics.
Which leaves Macklin obdurate.
Meanwhile, Byron is wont to play with fire whenever he's left to his own devices.
I was able to nail Macklin down for a prom portrait.
Devin, as usual, was too quick for me.