Castaway Cafe and Literary Criticism

There is this clever little business in our town called Castaway cafe. I don't know if I can even describe it well enough to do it justice. It is a huge maze/web of rope ladders, slides, cushion like blocks, tunnels and other craziness that extends upward toward a warehouse high ceiling. (Anyone with kids should check it out...even a section for the peewees.) We took our kids there today. Nothing takes you back to childhood like watching your own children.

I reminisced about the days of Chucky Cheese with my husband. They still have these, but they are a watered-down, video-game overloaded, wanna be version of the old Chucky Cheese. (Remember the big ball tanks. They were great until some kids barfed his pizza in it and they had to close them for cleaning. And they had a real mouse guy walking around and singing on stage, not the robot version they have now.)

Anyway, every time we went to C.C., I made new friends, and I watched my kids do it today. They took off running and every time I saw them they were with a posse of kids challenging each other to the highest slide, comparing ages and finding out they were the same, pretending to be dogs, finding new routes to the top, and who knows what else. Good times.

I need to post more. One of the reasons I haven't been in blogworld lately except to comment on some lovely blogs is because of my Literary Criticism class. One of my goals this year was to begin work on my Master's degree. Boy, did I pick a doozy! Ask Natalie, she has been on this journey with me, maybe dragged along is a better way to say it. You know how criticism in general makes you feel, yeah this class is like that. I think it was created just to suck the life out of people who enjoy reading. I see the light at the end of the tunnel, I have enjoyed being back in academia (for the most part - another post), and I am probably getting the toughest class out of the way first. Now if only that acceptance letter would arrive.