Another page or so of my work in progress

http://stevecrosswords.blogspot.com/2012/09/hes-flippin-crazy.html

This is the link to the first page of my new novel.  I want to feature another page or so in this blog.  If anyone wishes to comment on it, please do so.  Anyway, these few pages are the last two pages of chapter 1, which is a very short chapter.

    We turn onto a dirt road that looks if it goes on forever. From what I’ve heard, it dead-ends at a house which is no more than a cabin by the river. I can't believe my mom is living by a river – the same river – just a different part of it. There is one house near the end of the road where we turn. None down our road. Just what I need, more isolation.
     Woods are everywhere. Plenty of imaginary monsters lurking about, I'm sure. I catch a glimpse of the cabin as we go around the curve. It's more like a cottage to me. I'm sure its size will do wonders when my occasional bouts of claustrophobia close in on me. If it gets too bad, I can take a walk in the woods and get eaten by the monsters or fling myself in the river. A sad, rusty antenna rises above the roof of the cabin. Then it hits me.
     "Do we have Internet?" I ask.
     Dee chuckles under her breath and then says, "Yeah, they bundled it with dish network and cell phone coverage."
     "That's good," I say.

     "Idiot," she says under her breath, so quietly only I can hear it.
     "Maybe when we settle in… When I get my raise…" Mom's voice trails off like her thoughts; then, she says brightly as she stops the car, "Welcome to your new home kids."

     "This hellhole isn’t going to be my home," I say under my breath, thinking only Dee can hear.
     "I do my best!" Mom lashes out and then starts crying. She jumps out of the car and slams the door shut.
     "And she says we have mood swings," Dee says.
     "How come she only hears me?" I asked, but Dee is already out of the car. I reluctantly follow.
     "It's cute, mom," Dee Dee says and hugs mom.  Once again, I'm the sinner and she's the saint. Dee Dee cuts her eyes to me and smiles.  I glower, my signal that I'll get even.
     “As soon as we unpack the boxes, I want to go swimming, "Dee says.
     My breath catches, and I freeze as I wait for Mount mom's eruption.

I think I am in the mood to blog again.  For some reason, it's good therapy for me.  I don't know if anyone actually reads what I write, but I guess that doesn't really matter.  I would write just for myself if no one else ever read me, and so would any other writer.  We can't just not write -- if we are writers.