I've posted that I was particularly busy at work this week, and I am. Tonight of all nights I'm going to be here late and I need to get this thing that I'm working on done.
But I'm having real trouble focusing.
Among the little notes I leave myself, "things to blog about!" there's one that points to the fact that becoming a father has made me a big sappy goofball, who gets emotionally moved by things that (a) wouldn't have done so before and more importantly (b) don't deserve to move me they're so patently maudlin.
I'll write that post, eventually. But right now I'm supposed to be concentrating on some point of legal arcana and I'm instead struggling not to just put my face in my hands and pray or cry or both.
News article here. I can't even bring myself to link it properly, because I would have to retype the headline and have it on my site and that would be too much for me right now.
I am refusing to believe that the father/suspect was particularly evil or stupid. Unless I learn otherwise (from a reliable source) I'm just going to assume an incredible horrendous accident, a problem with communication, something -- anything.
The family in question is clearly "frum," with the same meaning as the "frum" in FrumDad. That the family is frum doesn't make the situation any more of a tragedy -- and I wouldn't even think that if they weren't frum it would make it any less of a tragedy -- but it hits me a lot closer to home this way; it's a lot easier to see me in them -- in him.