The Many Forms Of Crisis Management.

Ah...the dry gas! A miracle substance, really. And one that is, apparently, not universally known, if my comments are any indication. Allow me to elucidate. Dry gas is a fuel additive that you put in the tank to help break down any water that may be lurking in there with the pricey gasoline. It is probably a more common little item in my neck of the woods due to the temperature fluctuations that cause condensation to form. For the record, water is not good for an engine due to the fact that it is not exactly "combustible." And I suspect that one of the local chains I was using last year due to it's convenience of locale had a bit of the H2O in it's tanks.

I've been keeping the dry gas makers in business over the last few months...

That question answered, The Sheep now moves on to other types of crises that can occur in the life of a workaday gal. The rain continues to pelt down upon us and is making for the mushy brain. It has also made one less likely to make the trek down to the dumpster to take out that bag of trash that has been sitting in the kitchen for two days now. Today, however, being the good little homeowner that I be, I made the decision to take care of that little chore. But the driving rain forced me to assume something of a "head down" posture when walking. This is good for keeping the rain out of your nostrils, but not really all that effective in terms of avoiding low-hanging pine boughs.

I took one right to the face. A nice, wet, "whippy" sort of branch that slapped me into a state of awakeness far earlier than I was really ready and left more water on my glasses than the falling rain ever could. Nice... Fortunately, I noted little damage aside from my pride since these things never seem to happen when there are no witnesses. What all these people are doing out at the crack of too-early-thirty in the morning, I will never know. They certainly seem to be able to sleep in on days when I am able to walk without incident. And I can generally pull that off at least twice a week.

The staff meeting at school was an interesting start to a gloomy day, as well. Understand, that most schools are now charged with being prepared for any possible thing that could start with the words, "in the unlikely event." For example, in the unlikely event that certain exits are blocked, we must know all means for evacuating the building in the case of fire, terrorists or textbook salesmen. In the unlikely event that a stranger is in the school, we must be able to successfully identify him and take appropriate action to have him removed. In the unlikely event that the coffee supply runs out in the teacher's room then we are allowed to panic with wild abandon. There really is no plan that will cover that.

Today's unlikely event was centered on the recent concerns with regard to pandemic type flu outbreaks and what might happen should we ever be quarantined with the children for any length of time. Now, please don't misunderstand me. There is not a single child in that building for whom I wouldn't take a bullet if I had to. But, it is with great shame that I admit to you that the thought of being trapped with them for an indeterminate period of time caused a small and petty part of my brain to begin calculating the amount of time it might take for me to begin tunneling under the wall to whatever plague might be lurking out there. I am further dismayed by the fact that I was calculating it in hours, not days.

And it is still raining. But I made it to work on time today, was spared a pine-induced concussion and am now fully aware of the lengths to which I will go should I ever have to choose between a killer flu and extended time with my students. All in all, I'd say things are looking up since yesterday!

Despite all the bad mojo coming at me 24 hours ago, I took a chance and knit a bit. I'm not really loving the mitten that is stumbling along as project #2. But the Feather And Fan experiment is a winner!

At least The Big, Fluffy Kitty seems to think so...

We'll keep plugging along on the mitten and see what happens. I suspect that it is going to be a bit on the small side. But that will simply mean that they will remain in my possession as I have the small and delicate hooves. Not such a bad thing, I suppose.

However, I wonder if I should be knitting some sort of protective garments just in case. I've got the bird flu and those killer pine trees out there, after all...

SA