It has been so long since I have written even an inkling of a coherent post that I am a little embarrassed.  Should I ever post again?  Should I just fade away into the nomad's land of lost bloggers?  This can only be blamed on my lack of Internet connection and a vague laziness that overcame me this summer.  I was just much to busy laying on the couch and staring at the wall to spend much time at all writing.  Sorry. 

Okay, here we go. 

Now, as part of therapy, Sam rides horses.  Like a rich English heiress.  He might even wear tight black riding pants and a little round helmet perched on his head.  Perhaps he holds a riding crop, too, cracking it sassily in the air.  Maybe he jumps over white fences with his bottom stuck high in the air.  At least this is the image I have of the whole experience.  It might be a little more honest to say they take him to a barn and he rides in circles or something.  Who knows.

He also has a bionic leg that is moved by a little remote control and it is hidden in his sock.  No, wait.  He DOES NOT have a little leg hidden in his sock.  The control pad is in his sock.  And he doesn't have an extra, bionic leg.  It is actually a thing that is attached to his current leg and helps it move correctly through electronic impulse.  So let me try that again.  Sam has an ATTACHMENT to his leg.  No.  That doesn't sound right either.  Never mind.

Sam also went to the East Lansing water park, a trip that was cleverly disguised as a "therapy session".  Yeah, right.  Going down water slides, hard work, that.  Sam was telling me what happened during this difficult therapy session, but since he had a Pop Tart  shoved in his mouth at the time, this is what I gathered from the conversation:  "Mumph, blah, blah, blah, blunk."  So I turned and asked my mother for information instead and here is what happened:  Sam walked up a ton of tiny, soggy wooden steps.  These led him to his goal...a large plastic tube that he would place himself in (with mother in tow) in preparation for the slide down.  He did this twice with my mother with absolutely no difficulty.  Then he decided to go down with his OT, Rachel.  This resulted in Sam, at the bottom of the slide, being thrown in the water like so much garbage while Rachel escaped dry and cute.  So, in retaliation, Sam shoved her into the water.  At least I think this is what happened (at this point Sam took over the telling of the story while he continued to munch on Pop Tarts).  So my story-telling accuracy is based on a garbled, pastry-munching retelling.  Sorry. 

Oh, what else could I tell you.  Sam and my mom continue to play the screaming monkey game on the computer (I still could not tell you the proper title of this amusing past time).  My dad continues to watch the History Channel while he sleeps (if you turn it off he immediately wakes up and says, "Hey, I was watching that.").  Heather continues to do everything and make me look bad.  And, alas, I continue to drink tea, think deep thoughts and stare at the wall.  So all is well and normal with the Howells. 

Bec