Brother Blogging

I am not working on my novel because I can’t figure out how to get my MC into bed with a werewolf. No, seriously. You thought you had procrastination issues? Got ya beat.

Instead I called my brother. He’s in Philly where the humidity has finally calmed down enough for him to sleep at night, and, lo, the city has decided to repave the streets. At night. When it doesn’t disrupt traffic. Cnuts.

Also, his top floor apartment leaks. The landlady is too drag-ass to do anything about it. So he’s moving. He hates moving.

We were talking about tentative Christmas plans and I expressed my dissatisfaction with E’s brother, who will not decide to come home for Christmas, and so, do we fly to Regina, or not?

Bo said it sounded like I really didn’t like him, and I replied that I had no right, because Ive never met him. That was the reason we were going to go to Regina. For me to meet him. See the trouble?

I told Bo that E had said once, “You and your brother are really close.” I thought about it. We talk on the phone maybe 4 times a year. Email, maybe 6 times a year. Doesn’t look so close, right? But I’m often thinking about him, talking about him, and I know what he thinks about a lot of things as we were brought up in the same family culture, and when he is here, we do talk about things a lot.

E’s brother is doing his PhD in Near Eastern Religions. He teaches Sanskrit. But E learned that from his parents.

Strange.

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