WNBP: Stuff's Getting Real Now

Last week, due to my mistakenly wandering a week ahead on the calendar track, was an emotional roller coaster.  In my mind, it was the last week of my summer vacation and I mourned it hard.  Then, when an exasperated sales clerk demanded repeatedly that I change the date on my check so that it represented the correct day, I realized the truth.  I still had another week to go.

By then, it was too late.  I'd already unpacked a great deal of the emotional baggage that comes with summer's end and trying to refold everything was just too difficult.  Now that the actual "end is nigh," I'm not sure how to feel.

What I do know, however, is that a sense of reality is beginning to creep in.  It's not the same diamond  edged clarity I had last week.  (And that, as we all know, was of the cubic zirconium variety but it was close enough to wear to a semi-formal occasion and be able to fool the masses)  But it is definitely a feeling.

Yeah.  It's maybe starting to get a little real up in here...

So here is your last Summer Vacation Edition Of The Wednesday Night Bullet Post.  May it adequately express all the confusion and mixed emotions of the day!

*I always make a lot of promised to myself before summer vacation.  Mostly about things I will do to improve my life while I have the time to do them.

*During the school year, I spend most of my down time on the sofa wondering if I have the strength to get up and go do it again tomorrow...

*This year, per usual, I promised myself stuff all willy-nilly.  I know me and I don't expect it will all get done, but I like to think I get to some of it.

*The one thing I promised seriously, however, was that I would finish clearing out the spare bedroom.

*AKA: The Border Hoarder Room.

*Not quite up to genuine Hoarder Standards, but you can see the potential.

*I did a lot this summer.

*I painted the living room during a heat wave.  I also painted a contrasting wall that leads into the kitchen.

*The latter involved patching a large hole.  There was drywall involved.

*I refinished and reupholstered my grandmother's sewing chair.  

*One of those things I snagged right before the house was sold.  Not sure why I took it, but it's been a handy little chair.  Very sturdy.  A solid chair to have about the manse.

*Especially when I realized I didn't have a step ladder for painting.

*Which is why it needed to be refinished and reupholstered.  

*Gotta respect the handy chair.  Even a workhorse likes to look its best.

*I installed a new light switch in the bathroom.

*One that stays up or down as my mood and lighting needs dictate.  

*It also doesn't make that weird sizzling sound when it can't decide which position to take.

*That is comforting.

*I installed roman shades in the living room.

*I rearranged several pieces of furniture to update the look around here and replaced some of the art to reflect something other than the Late Nineties And Too Lazy To Do Anything About It period.

*Budget art shopping.  Took some time.  Took some digging.  

*I hung several shelves.

*I replaced my printer for a wireless model that could be stored less obtrusively but still used.

*I found a killer deal on a faux fireplace and built a faux hearthstone upon which to place it.

*Faux mantel is forthcoming.  I ran out of Faux.

*And Time

*I did a lot.  More than I've listed.

*What I did not do was finish cleaning out the spare bedroom.

*I've cleared a path.  If you look at it with one eye closed and think positively, it almost could be considered charmingly cluttered.

*That is probably going to have to be good enough.  The reality is, I'm out of time to do the job fully.

*And out of steam.

*I went to the doctor's office last week.

*And was promptly sent home because my real appointment was for this week.

*So I went today because it seemed like the right thing to do.

*I have tendinitis.  Of the Tennis Elbow variety.

*I have moved one too many pieces of furniture and I can't help but hearken back to that time I was crawling around under the sink yelling to myself, "Hey, stupid!  Your arm doesn't bend that way and you should have just bought the correct wrench like the internet said in the first place!!!"

*I have the wrench, but I think we are going to add "replace the sprayer attachment on the kitchen sink" to the List 'O Stuff That Shall Remain Undone.

*Gotta get real about that.  

*Now I am supposed to wear a Tennis Elbow Brace.

*I'm not just making up a cute name for it.  That is what it is called.  A Tennis Elbow Brace.  You can get them at the grocery store for fifteen dollars.

*You probably already knew that was a real thing.  I did not.

*I also had blood work done today.  I have my rheumatoid factor tested every few years just to be on the safe side.

*Family history of rheumatoid arthritis.

*Thought you only had to do that once and, if cleared, all was well.  I was quickly disabused of that happy notion by a nurse with RA.

*The factor is shy and hides until it isn't a so much a factor as a reality.  Hence, I re-test every so often just to be sure I've covered my bases.

*I bring it up because I am right handed.  Which is why my tennis elbow is on the right side.

*And where they tend to take blood.

*It is nigh on impossible to wear the brace so close to the site of today's vampiric carnage.

*To be fair, I don't give up my corpuscles easily.  Nurses have to work for it.

*I try to keep it real and not scream obscenities at them as they fish about with the needle hoping for a glimpse of red.

*Very bruised inner elbow.  Very sore outer elbow what with the tennis influence and arm wrenching that occurs when a frustrated nurse is desperately trying to make blood appear.

*I don't have arthritis, of that I am fairly certain.  But, I almost feel like I've earned some sort of diagnosis after this.

*I can't be mad at the nurse.  I just can't.  She's real nice.  And she thinks I'm funny.  

*It's not her fault she has to weigh me or stab me.

*My doctor was late to my appointment.  

*Stuck behind a school bus full of kindergartners.

*The kids were fine.  The problems were more centered around parents clinging to the bus and begging reassurances from the driver.

*She lives in my hometown.  A place where school has already started for the year.

*My school starts later than most.  We get away with it because we don't take much in the way of staff development time out of the regular school year.

*It works.  And gives me a few days of non kid-impacted shopping/driving/basically enjoying life during the last week of summer vacation.

*Now that I think of it, the plethora of kids around last week probably should have been a clue that something was off with my date calculations...

*I spent fifteen minutes rhapsodizing to my cats about the features of my new back-to-school bras.

*I was enthused.  To say the least.

*Da Boyz were clearly less than impressed with my description.  In fact, I can't help but think they were not even really all that interested.

*I understand, but they could have at least faked it for the sake of politeness.

*It is entirely possible that it really is time for me to go back to school. 

* Not just in the temporal sense.  In the personal sense.

*I might be in need of some Daytime Structure.

*And a little reality check...


And there you have it.  The limit of my recollections for the week. As much as I'd like to continue thinking Summer Thoughts, I need to get real here.  Vacation is pretty much done.  A couple more days and then it's just a plain, old weekend.  Just like the one I get during the winter months.  Except for the part where Monday is a holiday, but you get the idea.

Ready or not.  Reality, here I come...

SA

WNBP: Don't Mind Me. Seriously. Question Everything.

It seems that when I miss a week of blogging, it is cause for concern.  I suppose this makes sense, given that I have been fairly regular since I switched from the 6-days-per-week format to the current once-weekly version.  But I honestly didn't give it much thought last week when, after a day of shopping for party supplies with The World's Greatest Stylist And Life Coach, I was too spent to do much of anything, let alone compose intelligent sentences.

I probably should have guessed that my parents would be contacted...

My initial reaction was one of humorous dismissal.  "That's nice," I said with a chuckle, "but I'm pretty sure I've got things under control over here.  No need to push the panic button just because I took one night off!"

I've since had cause to rescind that statement.  In fact, I now believe that everyone should question everything I do rather carefully.  Furthermore, if I cannot be located for more than an hour's time, a search party should be assembled post haste.  I am, no doubt, at the bottom of a well or attempting to coax a rabid raccoon into a box so I can keep him as a pet.

At no time should it be assumed that I know what I am doing.  Ever.  Even if I say I know what I am doing, don't be fooled.  I don't.

Here is this week's Wednesday Night Bullet Post, on schedule except for the part where I lost track of time and started it a bit late:

*I somehow lost track of July.  I do that sometimes, lose track of days, weeks...yes, even entire months.

*I remember doing stuff.  I recall afternoon naps.  I know I celebrated Independence Day.  

*But it all kind of blurred together and suddenly, without warning...

*It was the last week of summer vacation!!!!

*That one hit hard.  I thought I had more time.  Worse, I still hadn't been in to school to set up the classroom and organize any of those Very Important Files Without Which No Learning Can Commence.

*I hate going in to school during the last week of vacation.  I prefer to get it done during the second to last week so I can use the final days to mope around properly.

*Somehow, I missed that window.  This irked me.

*Worse, I'd scheduled appointments!  What was I thinking?????

*I overslept yesterday.  It was only by an hour or so, but that isn't tolerated around here.

*I now need to add Shampoo The Living Room Carpet Again to the list of stuff that I need to get done before school starts.

*My feline overlords are generally benevolent dictators.

*Not so much when breakfast is late, though.

*I went in to school yesterday after doing some spot cleaning on the carpet.  

*I took poop on the carpet as a sign.  You don't ignore signs.  Clearly, I needed to get myself back on schedule.

*I planned on a two hour marathon.  Work it hard and get 'er done!  Home by noon!  

*Napping by 1:00...

*Oversleeping and having to spot clean poop out of the carpet kind of puts a damper on schedules.

*Nor is it reasonable to think that an entire classroom, plus filing, can be assembled logically in two hours.

*It also cannot be done in three hours, but that was all I had in me.  It was hot and the posters kept sliding off the walls.

*Had I done this last week, it would have been much easier.  It was far less humid.

*Why, oh why did I put this off until the last week of vacation?  How could I have been so stupid?  How does one lose an entire week???????

*And, believe me, I said this to anyone who would listen.  Which wasn't very many people since the school isn't actually open yet, but I made the effort.  I hunted down individuals to whom I might air my complaints.

*However, it was nice to add that the room was pretty much done and that I was ready to start next week.

*As much as I'm not really ready...

*I finally straightened out my online banking issues.

*And, by "online banking issues" I mean, "I haven't been able to access online banking ever."

*The system refused to allow it.  Multiple bank representatives were made aware of this over the years.

*All of whom assured me that I should have no problem signing up for online banking if I just tried again.  

*And one of whom assumed that I didn't know how to use a computer.  And said so.  To my face.

*Little Girl, I was learning how to write code before you were born...

*I did not say that.  Partly because I didn't think of it in time and mostly because writing code in the early 80's wasn't really all that impressive.

*It mostly revolved around solving for X in sophomore algebra.  

*And my flow charts never flowed well towards that goal.  Nor did my if/then statements inspire the room-sized panel of flashing gadgetry to do my will with anything remotely resembling fluid processing.

*OK.  So maybe Steve Jobs wasn't hunting me down to beg that I join his dream team in the garage, but I do know how to use a computer.

*When I went in to drop off my sort of late car payment, the nice young man asked me why I didn't just do it on-line.

*For well over a decade and then some, I have been reduced to telephone banking while I hum the soundtrack from Pretty In Pink to distract me from the fact that I am banking it 80's style.

*Although I do love me some Psychedelic Furs...

*I laughed right in the nice young man's face because a decade plus and then some is far too long to maintain one's sense of politeness and gentility.

*This time, however, a manager was in earshot.  A manager over the age of twelve and with some sense of customer service sense.

*I say "some sense" because she obviously still assumed the issue was on my end.  

*At least until the system shut her out of my online banking access.  

*Phone calls were made.  Special access codes invoked.  My footprints already in the system were erased in order that we might make a clean start of it.

*In short, I am now a proud member of the online banking community.  Something I have been trying to do since I first picked up that floppy disk on display in the bank's lobby.  The one that promised to set me up for futuristic banking.

*A floppy disk, for God's sake!!!

*No one knows why the system believed I already had a password.  I never got past the first two floppy disk prompts.  There is no way I could have set up a password.  

*Floppy disk bank blocked me!

*We decided to just call it One Of Those Things and let it go.  Except I kind of couldn't...

*Later, when I attempted to use my telephone banking pin to see if the information matched up with the version I saw on the screen, all was clear.

*My accursed telephone pin was the culprit!  When the Banking Guru erased me from the system, he/she made that go away.

*Thus clearing the path for new millennium style, updated soundtrack banking.

*Which, in hindsight, is maybe something they should have known.  Perhaps even mentioned to me.

*The floppy disk certainly didn't, but I think it had attitude problems.

*Busy day today.  I figured I might as well get as much done as possible while I was out and about so I checked store circulars before I left.  

*Maybe it's just me, but I think that stores should update their data regularly.  It does not help me to know what was on sale last week.  Just an observation.

*And one I made rather pointedly to Da Boyz, but I don't think they cared.  Food arrived on time this morning so their interest in me had waned a bit by then.

*First Stop: The doctor's office.  I had an appointment at 8:15.  I know this because it was written on a little card.

*And I quoted that little card to the nice receptionist when she told me that I did not have an appointment today.  No one had an appointment today because there wasn't even a doctor to be seen today.

*I repeated what it said on the card.  She repeated what it said on her computer screen.  

*Computer screen trumps card.  I left.  

*People are not cooperating with my last week of vacation at all.  I was contemplating sending a memo.

*It was now 8:20.  And I had three and a half hours to kill before meeting Mommy and Daddy Sheep for family lunch.

*I went to the Farmer's Market for the Weekly Visit With The Vegetables.  The last one of the summer.

*I fondly stroked a few eggplants and murmured sad good-byes to the melons.  

*Then I realized that one shouldn't be stroking and murmuring to produce because it causes people to look at one oddly.  One should purchase some melons and peaches and definitely that eggplant one was molesting and get out of Dodge.

*I found some very reasonably priced roman shades at a store known for discounted merchandise.  I wasn't exactly in the market for roman shades, but I was planning to buy new blinds later.  I figured roman shades thrown in my path were probably meant to be.

*This is a pay week.  I have money in my checking account.  I know this because I can check it online now.

*But, three days before payday, it's always nice to slow things down a bit.  I wrote a check for the shades.

*A check that I was assured would be happily accepted as long as I corrected the date.

*"You wrote the 28th," the nice man said.  "It's the 21st.  You need to change that."

*My response:  "Huh?"

*Now clearly believing that I was trying to pull some sort of check-related tom-foolery, he pointed to the paper and said, "You can't write that for the 28th.  It has to be TODAY'S DATE."

*I made a few uncertain and garbled noises, but I changed the check.  If this guy wanted to believe it was last week, so be it.  Not my problem.  I just wanted some cheap roman shades.

*And yet he seemed so certain...

*I pulled out my phone when I got back to the car.  I checked the date.  Sure enough.  It is not the 28th.  It is the 21st.  

*It is not the last week of summer vacation.  It is the second-to-last week.

*I am surrounded by calendars.  Paper versions.  Digital versions.  The bank is nice enough to put one right in the lobby for me to look at.  

*Over the past two days I have spoken to more people than I care to count about my sadness over this being the last week of summer vacation.  Several of them work with me.  They are on the exact same schedule.  

*I stood in the doctor's office today and quoted a card which listed my appointment as being for August 28th.  I quoted it twice.

*There were two people who heard it.

*I don't know whether to be horrified by how stupid I sound in public or concerned that no one saw fit to correct me until it involved possible check fraud.


So there you have it:  proof positive that I can never be left to my own devices.  Sure, I might sound like I know what I'm talking about.  I may come across as confident.  I might even use big words.  But don't for one minute let me out of your sight.  Or, if you have other things to do besides making sure I don't lick bare wires poking out of the wall, set up a rotating schedule so no one gets stuck with Sheepie Duty for overlong.  Whatever you have to do to make it work is fine with me.  The goal is to keep me alive and somewhere in the vicinity of where I need to be.

Oh, and by the way, you might want to make a note of this for the schedule.  You know that doctor's appointment I went to that isn't until next week?  The one I insisted on having made?  Yeah...that's actually for my yearly mammogram and doesn't occur anywhere near my primary care physician's office.

It says so right on the other side of that little card...

SA

WNBP: Bold Moves

There has been an outbreak of brazen behavior here at the manse.  I'm not sure just what is behind it, but it's mostly working out.  Except when it's not and then things have gotten rather exciting, at least for short periods.

Note:  "Exciting" has sort of varying definitions depending upon one's circumstances.  The guy on the bomb disposal team in charge of deciding which wire to cut probably has a higher tolerance for excitement than I, a middle aged schoolteacher just trying to get a last few things done before the clock ticks down on summer vacation.  That said, a galloping heart rate is a galloping heart rate no matter who you be.


Here's every adrenaline filled moment in Wednesday Night Bullet Post format:

*I mentioned getting Thai food last week.

*It was good.  It was spicy.  It was plentiful.

*When I go out to eat with The World's Greatest Stylist And Life Coach, I always get the leftovers.

*Not sure why.  I think she believes me to be starving to death over here.

*I couldn't wait to eat more of it.  It was that good.

*Hence, I had it for dinner.  Chicken with mango chutney.  Three and a half stars.

*Which isn't as spicy as they can make it, but spicy.  Very spicy.

*The Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty can sense food containers being opened a mile away.

*Even from a deep sleep.  He could be in the throes of the world's greatest mouse-chasing dream and still be instantly alert when certain sounds emanate from the kitchen.

*Especially when there is chicken involved.

*He's not such a huge fan of tofu and there was some of that, too.  Apparently, he was willing to forgive the vegetarian leanings in order to access the carnivorous fare.

*He appeared like magic, right there on the counter.  I don't know how he does it.

*I wasn't worried.  One whiff of those Asian spices and he'd be off.  I even let him have a sniff just to move the process along.

*When the AGK wants my dinner it is a bit of an ordeal.  One that does not end until the meal is gone or he has pilfered what he feels is his rightful share.

*My cat is not normal.  My cat is like something out of a fantasy novel where the animals are in charge of everything.  Perhaps in a previous life he was a purveyor of exotic spices.

*I shouldn't have been surprised.  Thinking back, I recall that time I found him on the stove dipping chili straight out of the pot with his paws...

*No.  I did not let him eat my mango curry.  Mango curry is not good for cats.

*But that didn't stop him from trying.  

*He woke me up several times during the night as he fiddled and slammed the lower cabinet, trying to foil the childproof lock so he could get at the empty containers.

*Which were double wrapped.

*However, since I am not bold enough to brave The Dumpster Where The Zombies Live at 1:00 in the morning, I did nothing about it until the dawn.

*I have had a paperclip holding my drain lever open for longer than I care to admit.

*I already mentioned this in an earlier post but for those of you wondering why a person would live in such a savage fashion, here is my reasoning:

DRAINS ARE HORRIBLE PLACES CONTAINING HORRIBLE THINGS AND I AM VERY, VERY AFRAID OF THEM!!!!!

*I've had the supplies to fix the drain for a while now, but not the will.  Last week, I finally summoned up the courage to face my fears.

*It will take years of very expensive therapy and a few very powerful psychotropic medications before I can go into any detail.  For now, I can only say the following:

1.  Clearly, the manse was very creatively constructed, at least as far as the plumbing went.  There was little that resembled the nice, clean illustrations that came with my new drain/overflow plate assembly kit.

2.  This job took longer than it should have and that is not a good thing when you are facing your demons.  See previous observation.

3.  I am still not really "done."  I will require a special tool, probably something made of titanium and diamonds and made only the the farthest reaches of some long disbanded country to remove the actual drain assembly for replacement.

4.  Again...see observation the first.  However there was information available on the Internet so it can't be that rare.  Hope springs eternal that there is a simple way to obtain this tool.

*For now, I am just grateful the most important fix was doable and that I no longer require office supplies to drain my bathtub.  

*Although I'll miss the thrill that comes from balancing precariously on one foot in the shower while the other depresses the lever when the paperclip unexpectedly breaks.  

*At the risk of repeating myself...excitement is a relative concept.

*Over the past few summers, I've gotten in the habit of doing some school year meal prepping.  It's good to have things ready to go once I'm back to work.  

*Children make me tired.  I am not as young as I once was, you know.

*I always can up a bunch of chicken since it is easy to make into edibles and, once pressure canned, will keep well without refrigeration.

*To make life easier, I usually pick up the skinless, boneless variety.  More expensive, but less time consuming.

*I am on summer vacation.  I am home a lot.  With access to cable television.  

*Hence, I decided it was perfectly within my skill set to purchase a couple of whole chickens and do the bone removal all by myself.

*I blame BBC America and MasterChef.  I wouldn't have come up with such a crazy plan all by myself, now would I?

*Actually, it didn't go as badly as it could have.  I don't think I'm ready to compete with the professionals, nor will I go so far as to say not a scrap of meat was wasted.  But there were neither bones nor skin when I was done.

*I even remembered to remind myself to toss the giblet packet in the trash before it attracted unwanted pests.  Or cats.

*Note to self:  Remembering to remind one's self is not the same as remembering to actually complete the task.  In fact, it is pretty much the same as leaving it in the sink.

*When the first fowl was finally wrestled into a boneless state, I turned to find a bloody trail leading from the kitchen to the living room.

*I followed it to find a scrap of waxed paper and one Very Complicated Kitty looking rather embarrassed .

*The ninja cat who actually did the deed was nowhere to be found, but I wasn't fooled for a minute.

*As I told the VCK, "I don't blame you for the theft as I know you don't have the delicate grace necessary to pull it off.  However, I am extremely disappointed in you for participating, even after the fact."

*He had the good grace to look abashed while I cleaned the carpet.  

*The culprit slept the sleep of the innocent whilst digesting a bellyful of ill gotten gains.

*I am assuming that the paper was mostly eaten by the VCK.  He likes paper...

*The scene of the crime and the counter top where I was committing criminal acts upon a chicken are less than three feet apart.  

*I heard nothing.  I saw nothing.  

*My cat is not of this world, I tell you.  He's like a spicy Thai loving agent for the CIA!!!

*And fearless.  Who steals chicken giblets right in front of The Boss 'O The House???

*I have delusions of grandeur.  Let it go.  I fixed a drain and dealt with chicken bones.  There was squealing involved and I'm in need of some self-esteem boosting right now.

*Between the mango curry and the raw chicken entrails, I spent a few anxious days watching the littler box and wondering just how bad this was going to be.

*Probably not worse than the drain, but neither would it be a basket of puppies.

*All is well.  No ill effects.  However, both cats look at me like they are expecting a menu and a list of Today's Specials...

*I canned stew beef on Monday.  I had waaay more of the cooking liquid left over than I'd planned.

*So today, I picked up a few beef bones and some veggies.  Figured I might as well make a proper stock out of it.  

*No cats were involved at any level of the process.

*I guess they aren't fans of the red meat.

*Which makes me wish I was since I really want to can some sweet 'n sour chicken on Friday and I'm not sure I have the cash to pay for both my share and the cats'.


Yes, bold decisions were made and daring plans executed over the past week.  Heck, I even ventured back into The Scary Closet Of Bridesmaid Dresses And Other Assorted Horrors From The 90's for another round of junk hauling!  I'm on a roll, but who knows how long I can sustain it?  Once the will to face danger and yucky things passes, it's kind of over.  I figure I should run with it while I got it.  I might even tackle that drawer in the fridge that sometimes looks to contain an actual moving life form!

But I doubt it.  No one is that bold...

SA

WNBP: Tick-Tock

Well, we've arrived at that time of the year I refer to as The End Of Summer Vacation Proper.  Sure, I'm still technically off the clock.  But it's ticking down and the time has come to face facts.

I actually do work for a living and soon it will be time to go do that again.

It's a rather confusing time.  I can go to bed whenever I want and do not fear the alarm clock.  I get as many cups of coffee in the morning as I can reasonably ingest and start my day whenever I think best.  But August means that at least part of each day should involved preparations for returning to school.  It takes a lot to get a classroom ready to go, even for a seasoned veteran such as myself.  If you don't start in August, you won't hit your stride until November and that's right about the time that all the holiday-themed vacations start.  Not ideal...

I don't even know what happened to May, let alone June and July.  We seem to have fast forwarded to right back where I started and I am at a loss as to how to explain how it happened.

In addition to school looming on the horizon, I now feel pressure to finish all the stuff I said I was thinking about doing back when I had all the time in the world and manual labor seemed like a much better idea than it does at the moment.

But it's Wednesday evening right now so I think I'll put all that worksheet prepping and closet cleaning aside for a bit.  It's time for this week's edition of The Wednesday Night Bullet Post!

*Today was the second time all summer that I've stepped out the door, paused for a moment and said, Now that's what I'm talking about!"

*Sunny.  Warm.  No humidity.  No asphalt melting beneath my sandaled feet.  No raindrops threatening my stylish summer coiffure.

*And by "stylish summer coiffure" I mean "hair haphazardly pulled back in a clip because I can't be bothered to do much more than that..."

*I think part of my issue with the summer vacation schedule has been allergy related.

*I lost the first two weeks to snuffling, sneezing and chills and then a cough that wouldn't quit.

*Seriously.  I was expecting a letter calling me before the homeowner's association to explain why I was keeping a pack of asthmatic wolves in the manse.

*Allergies have been making random appearances ever since and I don't think I should be held accountable for time spent feeling crappy when it comes to vacation days.

*By my estimation I am owed about three weeks.

*My car has been nagging me about getting an oil change for a while now.

*Longer than I care to admit.  Let's just say that the reset button on the vehicle's info center got a serious workout.

*The car can complain all it wants.  In the end, I control what I look at on my dashboard.

*But I can only take a stand for so long.  I brought the car in yesterday for the requested service.

*Oil changes are boring.  You sit and sit and it's not like other maintenance when it makes sense to just take the shuttle service home where you can wait in peace and with control over the television remote.

*Of course I forgot to bring anything to do so I ended up wandering around the internet on my phone.

*My 30th high school reunion is coming up.

*No.  I am not going.  

*I went to the 5th.  I also went to the 10th.

*I feel that my remaining years should be spent doing something fun.

*Not looking at pictures of people's kids.

*Or, as the case is now, grandkids.

*But someone thoughtfully put me in the FaceBook group to discuss the matter on so now I am inundated with notifications regarding the event that I have no intention of attending.

*This, however, is a good way to kill some time during an oil change when the dealership is busy, though.

*Stalking former members of my high school class.

*Not too much going on, surprisingly.  I found one name that rang a bell, though.

*"That rings a bell," I said to myself, "I'll bet nothing good happened there!"

*I can be a little judgmental in my own head sometimes.  To be fair, it wasn't like I was criticizing a future statesman or anything.

*This is the kid that my older-than-God first grade teacher made sit in the back of the room behind the piano because he couldn't seem to get a grip.

*That, it turned out, wasn't the most effective strategy because she eventually ended up having to storm back there and shake him until his head banged off the piano a few times.

*Note:  this was back in the days when, if a teacher bounced your head off a piano, your parents were more concerned about what you did to instigate the head trauma than the appropriateness of the discipline choice.

*He settled down after that, though.  

*Nothing like having a ancient powerhouse in a floral print dress come stalking down the aisle at you to bring about an epiphany, even if you are only six...

*I later recall him leaving his jean jacket behind in sophomore anthropology class.  It was easily recognizable when the teacher found it on the floor and picked it up.  

*You kind of couldn't miss the lopsided pot leaf inked on the back.

*And, if that wasn't enough, the giant bag of weed he extracted from the pocket kind of sealed the deal.

*I was strolling down the hallway on the main floor one day, feeling pretty good about myself.  I'd done some self-improvement over the summer.

*Lost some weight, got a few new outfits, and had a corkscrew curly perm to end all perms.

*Shut up.  It was the early 80's.  We didn't know any better.

*Suddenly, I realized that the bleary eyed denim wearing, former resident from behind the piano was matching my pace.  And then he spoke.

"You know, you're looking really good.  Let's face it.  Last year, you looked like you didn't know your ass from your elbow, but now...(waved his arm to indicate my new state of fabulousness)  you look gooood!"

*I do not recall what I said in response to this.  What can one say in response to this, really?  

*He didn't have much of an active social life from what I could tell...

*It wasn't too many clicks on the ol' iPhone before I found his sadly brief obituary.  Survived by siblings, predeceased by parents, no services.

*Also no cause of death which is generally not a good sign when it comes to obituaries.

*It's a cautionary tale, people.  If you have kids, don't let them take drugs and perhaps talk with them about how to deliver a compliment effectively.

*And you probably shouldn't bounce their heads off the piano no matter how many times you've had to tell them to simmer down.  

*And how did I get to the point where I'm not going to my 30th reunion anyway??????

*And how did the little girl I taught when she was in 7th grade get to be a service associate at the dealership?  With a husband and kids?????

*For the record, having a former student who liked you as a teacher working at the service center is awesome.

*If you can get past the whole part where she grew up and can drive and have babies and all that.

*It was a real emotional roller coaster over at the dealership yesterday.  Frankly, I was thrilled to get my keys and leave.

*Yesterday was my parent's anniversary.  I forgot to call them.  

*Happy Anniversary, Mommy and Daddy Sheep!  

*I'm sorry I forgot to call you.  I remembered, but by then it was midnight and I didn't think you'd appreciate a shout-out at that point.

*I blame the oil change.  It got kind of real in the waiting area.

*Also, I was making mint jelly and that kind of took up more of the day than I planned on.

*Part of that time was spent admiring my glistening green jars and saying, "Would you look at that?  I made mint jelly!!!"

*My allergies were really bothering me last night.

*I didn't sleep well.  

*Which is why I was really glad I was meeting The World's Greatest Stylist And Life Coach for lunch.

*The restaurant was close to home and even better...it was a Thai place!!!

*TWGSALC, being Chinese by birth, is very well acquainted with the concept of "spicy."  We both tend to kick it up a notch when we go Thai.

*And these here sinuses were in need of some heat today!

*Sinuses cleared nicely, thank you very much.  And I got the leftovers so I'm all set for tonight's potential clogging.

*If you happen to be in the area and are a fan of Thai food (spicy or otherwise), I'd highly recommend you check this place out.

*It's small, but good.  I've been meaning to try it for years now.  But time got away from me and I never did.

*I was hoping they didn't have takeout, but they do.

*I hope the teacher's association has worked out our contract this year because I think I am going to need a raise.

*Have to fund my mango curry habit...

*I finally started cleaning out the closet in the spare bedroom.

*Now I know where all those Christmas lights I knew I had but suddenly couldn't find ended up.

*Not to mention six bridesmaid dresses, all the paintbrushes I really needed when I started the living room project and a myriad of cords that don't seem to go to anything but do seem kind of important all the same.

*I also apparently thought it was a good idea to store candy canes in there, perhaps in the event of a massive candy cane shortage during the Apocalyptic Holiday Season Of The Future.

*Note:  Candy canes left in a closet for years will not be usable.  Even during the apocalypse.  

*What they will become is permanently melted to various bridesmaid dresses.

*And, as we professional bridesmaids know, this is a tragedy because any taffeta pink garment can be tailored to cocktail length and worn again.  

*Or so I've been told by many an earnest bride...

*Rule number one:  Brides lie.  They will tell you anything to ensure you match the cake and cummerbunds.  

*Rule number two:  Becoming a bridesmaid does something to your brain.  Suddenly, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, you will believe that you go to cocktail parties all the time.

*Wearing pink taffeta.

*I am past bridesmaid age now.  I know this because my 30th reunion is coming up.  Also, I'm going back to start the school year and get my t-shirt for being in the district for ten years.  

*And that ten years represents less than half of my teaching career.

*Ten years in the district means you get a long sleeved t-shirt.  That's way better than my regular t-shirt I got after five years.

*I'm nowhere near the sweatshirt level, though.  And I doubt I'll see the fleece vest in my lifetime.  That's something like 30 years.  

*Although, if time continues to blast past as it has lately, perhaps I have a shot!

Speaking of time, I have somehow managed to lose an hour blathering on and now the cats are cranky. I think it is feeding time for all of us if my rumbling tummy and the screeching coming from the kitchen are any indication.

So I'll wrap this up here and call it a night.  May your downward slide towards the weekend be a good one and may time treat you kindly.

Or, at the very least, have the decency to move at a reasonable rate...

SA

WNBP: Choices. Questionable And Otherwise.

OK, I know.  I missed last week.  In light of that not-really-so-much-of-an-oversight-as-a-last-minute-decision, why don't we just dive right in?

Here's a two week version of the Wednesday Night Bullet Post:

*It was hot last week.

*I'm talking stoopid hot.  Crazy hot.  Too hot to even function without sweating buckets and becoming socially unacceptable.

*So I decided to paint the living room.

*Which was, by any definition, a questionable choice.

*The only way to really do this was one wall at a time.  

*It was really hot.  And humid.

*One wall at a time was all I could tackle on any given day.

*Except, ironically, Wednesday.  Wednesday was Family Lunch day with the Sheepish relatives.

*I probably could have blogged.  I didn't have the painting thing going on.

*But I was really hot and really tired and really sore from clambering my aged self up and down the makeshift step-ladder.

*So I didn't blog.  I feel very badly about that...

*Not really.  I only feel a little badly.  It was hot and humid and I was sore.  Plus there were paint fumes.

*I take full responsibility for my choice, questionable or otherwise.

*I forgot all about renewing my teaching certificate this year.  

*I realize that sounds kind of irresponsible.  Teaching is my livelihood after all.

*But I have three endorsements, two of which were still current.  

*The first of those is the endorsement under which I am currently employed.   The middle one I've never used and didn't really ask for but got it anyway.   The third is my school counseling endorsement and I don't use that one anymore.

*It's the latter for which the clock is ticking.

*But I don't want it to expire.  I worked hard to get it and my certificate looks kind of cool with all my mad skilz laid out for the world to see.

*So I had to drive down to school last Tuesday to meet with the certification coordinator to get her signature on all the paperwork.

*At first, she was concerned.  I didn't have enough contact hours by her estimate.

*Then I showed her the nine billion hours I put into the Autism Leadership Team, including the off-site training which involved staying in a hotel and leaving Da Boyz to fend for themselves.

*That put my hours over the top and left me half-way certified on all my other stuff which isn't due for another four years.

*Signature obtained.

*I've since forgotten to mail it to the state, but there is still time for that.  

*Although my decision to leave the paperwork on the counter where the rest of the mail piles up probably isn't going to facilitate my remembering to do that...

*It was even hotter when I left Ms. Certification Guru's office.  Hard to even conceive of "hotter" at that point, but it was.

*So I came home and painted another wall in the heat of midday.

*Which wasn't a smart thing.

*What can I say?  The urge to paint my living room doesn't come over me very often and I sort of have to go with it when the mood strikes.

*My living room is now a pleasant combination of Fresh Baked Pumpernickel and Toasted Coconut.

*My bathroom and the connecting hallway were painted last summer.

*In Belgian Waffle.

*I am going with a food theme, paintwise.

*These were exceptionally good color choices, if I do say so myself.

*I'm not normally "good" with color.  I tend to take the safer route because I don't match things very well.

*But going with colors that are toasted, roasted and baked seems to work for me...

*I have high carb walls.

*Please Stand By For Sheepie's Official Statement Regarding The Royal Birth:

*Good evening and thank you all for coming.  I'll be brief.  Or as brief as I can be given that I am cursed with the need to explain things until they scream for mercy...

As a member of modern society, I cannot help but be aware of certain newsworthy tidbits.  Royal weddings and births seem to get a great deal of attention.  Hence, I take notice.  I can, however, choose my response.

I bought into the dream of Happily Ever After these people sold me back in the 80's.  I bought in fully and well beyond my credit limit.  I was promised a newer, cooler monarchy with awesome outfits and even awesomer modern attitudes.  And, for a while I suppose, I got that.

But then it all fell apart and I was left with the depressing realization that my royal idols were really just flawed human beings no different from me.  (Except for the part where they get into more trouble than I do and and lack the ability to understand that no bad deed goes unobserved in this age.)  The dream was shattered and Happily Ever After was relegated back to fairy tale status.

I wish the royal couple well.  Good job giving birth and all that.  Seriously.  I would imagine that isn't exactly a walk in the park, especially with a crowd outside wondering what is taking so long.  But you'll forgive me if I change the channel after seeing the same footage of a hospital door for the umpteenth time because I am busy and can't get to the remote fast enough.  I really do hope it all works out for them.  Honest.

But I am choosing not to attend the christening.  I'm fairly certain I'm not on the guest list anyway.  Still, it never hurts to put it out there early just in case I'm taking up a seat better given to someone more interested in the whole business.

And that concludes Sheepie's statement regarding all things royal.  We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog.

*Somehow I knew that wasn't going to be brief.  It never is...

*I didn't go to the Farmer's Market last week.  It was hot and I had to put part of my living room back together.

*I am very much behind on my End Of The World Is Nigh Supply restocking and have only canned potatoes.

*I went today, though.  

*I now have four pounds of green beans in my fridge.  

*I did not can them today.  We'll get to that.

*Home improvement mania struck again and I chose to reupholster the seat of the chair I used as a step stool because I don't have a real ladder here.

*There is a great deal of paint on that chair.  Why I thought reupholstering the seat would detract from that I don't know.

*But once the idea took hold it was kind of hard to not do it and I already had some decent fabric on hand.

*Decent fabric located whilst clearing out the back bedroom.  

*It's amazing what I find when I clear out twenty years of back bedroom crap.

*I keep expecting Jimmy Hoffa to pop out from under a pile of old linens.

*Jimmy Hoffa or a really scary bug.  

*I should seriously consider moving the piles of old linens around more often...

*I am going out for lunch with Mommy and Daddy Sheep so I probably won't can beans tomorrow either.

*Beans will have to wait until Friday.  Friday seems like a better canning day anyway.

*Friday has a canny sort of feel to it...


There.  That covers most of what I did for the past couple of weeks.  I'm not saying that all my choices were good ones, but the living room does look pretty nice with all it's Toasted Coconutty goodness.  And getting my teaching certificate straightened out was probably the right thing to do.  I have to pay for all this paint, you know.  Paint doesn't grow on trees and a girl needs employment to make paint happen!

Of course, being employed and then paying someone else to paint the living room during a heatwave might have been the smarter choice altogether.  In fact, most of the projects I've done around here over the past few weeks would probably have been a lot more fun if I'd been watching someone else complete them.

Maybe we'll consider that for The Next Brilliant Idea I Get In The Middle Of The Night.  I've been thinking a lot about tile for some reason.  Given that I have no idea whatsoever how to tile anything I can't help but wonder if that is going to be another one of those questionable decisions.

Questionable and, perhaps, unavoidable...

SA

WNBP: Upgrades

Last summer, while I was lying on the sofa and pondering what to do with my day, I suddenly realized that the manse was looking a bit dated.  Shabby, if the truth be told.  Downright sad in certain infrequently visited corners.

So I decided to do a few upgrades.  Nothing major, mind you.  Just a coat of paint here, a foray into the technological marvels of the 21st century there and many, many trips to The Dumpster Where The Zombies Live.  (I always kick the side once or twice before opening it just to make sure they aren't home)

This would have been a great summer plan had I activated it in June.  Or even July.  Sadly, it was August before the Upgrade Fever set in and I had little time before school started.  The whole fervor lasted until about October and then I kind of fizzled out.  I spent the winter months staring at patched nail holes in drywall and not really seeing them  after a fashion.

This summer has gotten off to a slow start.  The first week was spent in the grip of a summer cold/sinus thing/allergy outbreak/plague to be named later.  The ensuing days have been spent dealing with the insomnia caused by a lingering cough and a sudden heat wave, complete with high humidity.  Getting motivated to finish this stuff while I still have enough summer to make it doable hasn't been easy.  Slowly, though, I seem to be making some progress.

Let's explore that in this week's Wednesday Night Bullet Post.  I'm hoping that by writing it down, it might seem like more than it actually is...

*Last Friday represented a surrender of sorts for me.  It was hot.  Very, very hot.

*I finally broke down and decided I needed some air conditioning.

*This required a trip to the store, though.  I needed a portable air conditioner, not a window unit.

*My reasoning for this is threefold.

*First, the wiring here at the manse is a bit dicey.  Circuit breakers are flipped if I try to live too far outside the building's semi-Amish code of conduct.  A portable unit would be easier to move to a different outlet in a different zone if needed.

*Secondly, my window units tend to drip in humidity.  I've had problems with that in the past.  Namely, my neighbors nicely pointing out that they do not care for my air conditioner dripping into their windows.  I can never seem to get the thing angled well enough in my window casing to avoid this.

*Thirdly, air conditioners are heavy.  Very heavy.  Granted, a window unit isn't as heavy as a portable air conditioner.  But I'd only have to lift it the one time. It will never have to be hoisted again, not even in the winter months. After it was settled into its new home, lifting would not be required again unless I move.

*And I have way too much crap here to consider moving.  I'm just going to live out my days in semi-Amish conditions and call it good.

*I bought the second-to-last air conditioner they had.  It weighed 70 pounds.  

*I got it to my car by myself.  

*I got it into my car by myself.

*I got it up the stairs and into my second floor condo by myself.

*I also may have peed myself a little bit doing this, but I'm not confirming that.

*I opened the box by myself and began setting it up.  By myself.

*Which was when I discovered that it was missing a part.  A very important part.

*I was not going to lug that thing back down the stairs.  It just wasn't going to happen.  I was out of clean underwear.

*And it was 95 degrees.  

*The store was just going to have to give me the part.  Which they were willing to do.  It was a simple matter of getting one from another air conditioner and giving it to me.

*Except they were sold out.  And rather unwilling to do much of anything beyond letting me return the unit for a refund.

*Which would mean lugging it back down the stairs and I think we have already covered why that wasn't going to happen.

*Fortunately, another store branch nearby had one.  And they were amazingly good about the whole thing.

*Once they understood, that is.  Twenty minutes of my life that I will never get back were spent explaining the situation.  It was only when I was standing in customer service with four FEMALE employees that I truly felt some kinship.  

*They knew perfectly well why I wasn't bringing the air conditioner back.  They didn't so much as question why I was only asking for the exhaust nozzle.  

*They got it.  I wanted to hug them all but I was kind of gross and sweaty from all the lugging.  

*Not to mention the stair climbing and strain-induced incontinence...

*I've had the parts to repair the drain plug mechanism thingy in the tub for months now.  

*But I just can't bring myself to do it.

*Drains skeeve me out.  Badly.

*When I was little, I believed a frog lived in the drain.  Or a toad.  I can't remember which.

*Or why I believed that.  It is possible I just made it up.

*It is also possible I was told this by one of my parental units.

*It is even possible that there was a frog in there.  Or a toad.  I swear I saw it down there.

*But I was four so I can't entirely trust my judgement on this.  

*I just know I don't trust drains.

*I'll keep working on it.  

*Meanwhile, the paper clip I'm using to hold the drain mechanism open is working nicely.

*I decided a long time I ago that I would use the paint left over from the accent wall in the living room to do one of the small walls in the kitchen.

*Open concept living plan.  Both walls would be visible and would look lovely together.

*But I wasn't going to do this until I dealt with the giant hole in the wall.

*The giant hole in the wall isn't entirely my fault.  I put it there, granted.

*But it isn't my fault.

*I am not the one who decided it would be super cool to put a cassette deck/radio unit in the wall.  That was the builder's decision.  And its lovely plasticized faux wood grain worked in 1990.

*Not so much after that, though.  It had to go.

*But that left a hole in the wall the size of a cereal box.  I covered it with a poster.  

*You can only live with a hole in the wall the size of a cereal box covered with a poster for so long if you are over the age of 40.

*Less if you are closer to 50.  

*On Monday, I finally decided to stop living like a frat boy and do the drywall patch.

*On Tuesday, I sanded the patch.  Then I didn't like the way it looked so I put more joint compound on and sanded again.

*This morning, I did it once more.

*Then I decided that it might not be a good idea to keep slathering stuff on the wall only to sand it off and called it Good.

*I primed the wall.

*Then I went to the farmer's marker for my weekly Visit With The Vegetables.

*I thought it would be dry when I got back.  It wasn't.

*There is humidity.  Humidity makes watching paint dry even more like watching paint dry.

*I have one coat of paint up, but another is needed.

*I'm estimating that it will be sometime around 9:00 this evening before I can do that.

*My smoke detector has been driving me crazy for the past couple years.

*It hates the humidity even more than the paint.  And it made its displeasure known.

*I have disconnected my smoke detector and I don't want to hear a word about it.  

*And before you ask, here are the answers to your questions.  I've already heard them a few times.

*No.  I did not check the battery.

*Yes.  I will be replacing it shortly.

*No, I did not consider that it might be carbon monoxide setting it off.

*Yes.  I realize I should have dealt with this years ago rather than just complain about it.

*No.  I do not believe that I am less safe without a smoke detector.  I am more safe.  I believe that relationships should be built on respect and trust.  

*And I did not respect my smoke detector, much less trust it.

*How can you trust a device that blares when you open the dishwasher two rooms away?  Or stand too close with a steaming cup of coffee?

*It was the reaction to my running warm water to wash my face the other morning that did it, though.

*I'd had enough.  I stomped off to the breaker box, shut down the circuit and disconnected the 25 year old nag.

*It takes me a while to work up to tasks involving wires.  And my ancient smoke detector was hard wired into the Amish circuitry.

*Which might explain why it hates hot water, now that I think of it...

*I'm getting a new one with batteries that I can easily replace.

*But now I have a hole in my ceiling.

*Which is much worse than a hole in the wall, but you have to look up to see it so it's not as big a problem.

*Has anyone else discovered SnapGuide?  I love SnapGuide.

*Once you reach a place where you can forgive people's shaky photography and typos, it is as addictive as Pinterest!

*And it gives directions which is better.

*Once you get past the aforementioned spelling issues.

*Perhaps SnapGuide will give me even more inspiration to tackle my upgrades!

*And maybe even some direction.  That would be good.

*If nothing else, I now know how to make a pinwheel...


So that's where we stand as of today.  I think the paint in the kitchen has dried enough to consider a second coat.  We are trusting that there is just enough in the can left to make that happen.  I'm sure it will all work out just fine.

After all, what could possibly go wrong?  Upgrades only make life better, after all!

SA

WNBP: I Blame The Rain Because I Lack Perspective

Well, it's been a week since last I posted and what a week it's been!

OK.  That is something of an exaggeration.  Perhaps not even really "something of."  It's more like an outright exaggeration, but I live a pretty simple life over here. My standards for excitement are probably not like everyone else's.

That said, let's take a look at how things went via the Wednesday Night Bullet Post.  If it's not as exciting as your own life, so be it.  You can at least marvel at my ability to make something out of nothing...


*When last I checked in, it was the first week of my summer vacation.

*I marked the occasion by becoming deathly ill within two hours of arriving home from school.

*"Deathly ill" being my descriptor for a summer cold.

*Like I said...I lack accurate emotional and experiential measuring tools.

*I remained sick for over a week.  Hacking.  Coughing.  Snuffling.  You get the idea.

*The cough lasted long after my actual recovery and, at first, I blamed the pollen.

*The pollen has been very bad this year.  Very, very bad.

*I have to shovel through piles of the stuff just to get to my keyboard.

*So I blamed the pollen for my woes.

*But then it started raining.  And it didn't stop.  At least not for amounts of time that might make it noticeable.

*So I decided to blame the rain for all my sinus-related difficulties.

*Low pressure systems have not been my friend for years now.

*I couldn't lay down for many a night, lest the wet, soupy hacking begin.

*Which, as you can imagine, did not make for a well-rested Sheepie.

*It's only the past two nights that I've been able to manage actual "sleep."

*Wanna know the secret?

*Sure you do.  It's all about honey.  And peppermint.  And fresh ginger.

*Those are all wonderful old-timey cures for what ails ya!

*Especially when the whole mess is liberally mixed with cheap whiskey...

*The internets are really all you have when it's 3:00 in the morning and you can't lie down for fear of waking everyone in a ten mile radius.

*And you can learn a lot when you put "it's 3:00 in the morning and I'm coughing so much I'm afraid of waking everyone in a ten mile radius" into the old search engine.

*Last week, I braved the rain and the coughing to go to the Farmer's Market.

*Yes, the Weekly Visits With The Vegetables are upon me!

*I decided to buy a little basil plant so I could have fresh basil of my very own this summer.

*I also bought some mint.  And some cute pots.

*Which I carefully placed where they wouldn't be harmed when Overly Enthusiastic Mowing Guy came to do his thing.

*Bonus:  It has been raining.  One does not need to water one's little herb garden when it rains almost every day for a week.

*One should, however, check to see if one's cute pots have drainage holes, though.

*My basil was swimming when I checked on it today.

*Basil soup...

*Holes were poked.  Drainage has commenced.

*Oddly enough, the basil didn't seem all that bothered by the two inches of water over the soil line.

*In fact, the whole thing had grown about five inches.  I had fresh basil on my little luncheon pizza.

*I wonder if the lavender plant I bought today would prefer the swamp life?

*Probably best not to test that theory.

*Hey!  Good news!  Here's something the rain didn't wash away!

*The new garlic is in!!!!

*I get very excited about the new garlic.

*Again, my perspective is probably limited.

*But I do loves me some new garlic.

*I forgot to put that on my luncheon pizza.

*If I ever get around do making my dinner pizza, perhaps I'll have some then.

*It is almost 8:00.  I am a little behind schedule today.

*It didn't rain.  I was waiting for the rain to start.  It rains every afternoon and today it didn't rain.

*Hence, I think it is still 10:00 in the morning.

*Last Friday, I took SIL Sheep in for elbow surgery.

*Everyone at the surgical center was very, very nice. We had a lovely time.  Our spirits were quite high.

*We were the life of the party at the surgical center.

*For the first hour.

*Then they ran behind because someone else's elbow wasn't cooperating.

*Our sparkling conversation kind of ran out and we were left with SIL repeatedly asking if she could have a cheeseburger and me running Zombie Apocalypse Scenarios past whomever cared to listen.

*After surgery was done, the first thing the nurse in Recovery asked my SIL was, "How you feeling about that cheeseburger now?"

*Since the pain medication-induced nausea was in full swing by then, the cheeseburger was declined.

*The question was rhetorical, I suppose.  I doubt they actually have cheeseburgers there .

*Nobody asked me how I was feeling about a Zombie Apocalypse.

*But that isn't all that unusual in a hospital recovery room, I find.

*I got SIL home without incident, got her medications without being questioned too closely and left her tucked in for Baby Brother Sheep to manage from there.

*When I checked back on Saturday, things were improving although the pain medication was still making cheeseburgers something of a bad idea.

*I'm assuming that an Apocalypse of any kind would also be ill advised at this juncture.

*I did, however, bring her chocolate chip muffins because you only have to be told fifty times between admission, recovery, transport and final tuck-in before you realize that the patient is serious about this.

*I wasn't sure the first thirty six times she said it because it was raining so hard last Friday that it was discernible even in those interior hospital rooms with no windows and extra sound proofing so you can't hear the patients begging for beef-based treats.

*I cleaned out my wallet last week.  I was stuck inside with nothing else to do, after all.

*So that is why, while my SIL was having her elbow put back together, I was at Town Hall replacing my vehicle registration form.

*I also had to replace my insurance cards because I am so totally NOT getting caught up in that kind of mess again.

*Note:  The state of Maine takes proof of insurance very seriously.  Very, very seriously.

*As in "a middle aged school teacher with a spotless driving record suddenly became the victim of a paperwork error that ultimately led to hundreds of dollars in legal fees after being charged with a class E felony" kind of serious.

*I bought a new wireless printer to ensure that acceptable proof of insurance was in hand.

*And still ordered new cards be sent to me even though I was assured that what I printed from the website was just fine.

*And put a picture of the insurance card on my phone.

*Just in case.

*The local constabulary are probably also a little put out by all the rain.  Not going to test their limits.

*And the moral of that story is this:  It never pays to tidy up.  Just leave your wallet in whatever state you find it.

*It could also be: Pay attention to what you are tossing in the trash."

*But I like the first one better.

*Now that I'm feeling better and can't really go anywhere without drowning, I've been catching up with some reading.

*First Grave on the Right (Charley Davidson, Book 1) was on sale.  I'd been eyeing that series for a while and figured, "what the heck?"

*Also picked up the next one since it was on sale as well.

*Interesting premise.  Really snappy dialogue.  And a very likable main character.

*Perhaps not my favorite all-time read, but everything can't be.  I like it.  That's good enough for me.

*Although I'm not commuting these days, I still can't get past the need to have someone telling me a story while I'm in the car.

*So I picked up The Ocean at the End of the Lane: A Novel.

*What can I say?  It's Neil Gaimon.  Of course it's brilliant.  It hasn't even gotten to The Good Part yet.

*And it's still brilliant.

*Do yourself a favor and get the audio version if you can.  It's read by Neil himself, as most of his books seem to be.

*You won't be sorry.  But you can also read it if you want.  

*Who am I to tell you what to do?

*I'm just a gal sitting here thinking I've had Quite The Week and blaming the rain for that which may have gone awry.

*I'm probably not the best judge of your reading experiences...


Well, it is now after 8:00 and it still hasn't rained.  So I haven't done any of the things I said I was going to do back when it was really 10:00 in the morning and I told myself, "Oh, you have plenty of time.  Besides, it's going to rain this afternoon and you'll be dying for something with which to occupy yourself!"

Stupid rain.  Even when it's not here, it is messing with my life!

SA

WNBP: I Had A Plan. And That Was My First Mistake.

There.  School is finally over for the year and summer vacation is upon me.  We can now look forward to more carefully crafted posts that follow the predictable format.  No more of those random mushy reminiscences about students long gone from my care or quickly dashed notes explaining in excruciating detail all the things I must do as opposed to a proper blog post.

Note:  You've all been very kind in not mentioning the obvious.  The excuse-laden posts were longer than the regular ones I suspect...

So here is your first Wednesday Night Bullet Post of Summer '13.  Grant you, it is as full of excuses and self-absorbed angst as any I've ever written, but I like to think it at least sticks to the general theme of the blog...

*School officially ended for me last Thursday.

*I am losing two of my students:  Little Einstein and Jolly Boy.  They will be traveling up to their new 8th grade classrooms located at the high school.  I will be remaining behind to pick up about forty-seven new kids next September.

*It's been a long two-year journey with these guys.  I am not normally one given to huge displays, but I figured I should give them a farewell befitting the end of out time together.  Nothing fancy, just a few heartfelt words of appreciation for all their hard work and blessings upon their little heads as they continued along the winding road of public education.

*I decided to wait until right before they were dismissed to make sure the whole thing didn't get too mushy.  Teenaged boys do not appreciate mush.

*And then I had to take a phone call from a parent.  This parent is a talker.  And she had some concerns.

*To be fair, her concerns were valid and she had every right to want some reassurances.  Plus, I'm one of the few people who can talk to this particular mother without things getting...heated.

*I'm the Parent Whisperer.

*My lovely planned Bon Voyage to my "graduating" students ended up being no more than me covering the phone long enough to shriek, "Dudes!  That's your bus!!!  Move it or start your summer later than you planned!!!"

*The last I saw of them were the backs of their sweatshirts and the fluttering of the plastic shopping bags I'd handed out so they could bring home all the crap they'd brought in over the course of the school year.

*They made their bus, though.  That was good.  Just not what I'd planned, is all.

*On Father's Day, while we were all at my parent's house, SIL Sheep mentioned that she had no oregano plants.

*Nary a one.

*She did, however, long for the day when oregano plants might grace her garden.

*"Long" might be a strong word here, but I feel that this story works better if she is, for reasons best left unexplored, really desperate for some oregano.

*The next day, a colleague sent out an email saying she had oregano literally taking over her garden and that she was bringing in plants for anyone who might like them.  I emailed back enthusiastically!

*And texted my sister-in-law triumphantly because there is no herbal issue I cannot solve within mere days!!!

*I missed the oregano train.  The plants had found new homes.  However, my colleague had lots more to share and said she would bring me some the following day.

*I returned to my classroom, arms raised in a victory salute and proclaimed myself The Best Sister-In-Law EVER.

*No, seriously.  I said that.  Out loud.

*Here's the thing about saying things where others can read or hear them...

*Emails about free oregano mean that people will assume the plants are there for the taking and won't consider for a second that there is SIL pride on the line here.

*And people who make loud pronouncements about being the best of anything will get quick lessons in that whole Pride Goeth Before A Fall thing.

*I missed the oregano train.  Again.

*Oregano plants became my obsession.  My white whale.  My...I dunno.  Pick your own cliche.  Just know I had to make this thing happen.

*I did, however, turn off my phone for a little while there.  My intent to follow through wasn't exactly backed up with a clear plan of action.  No need to risk sudden calls/texts/emails from the SIL.

*School officially ended for me at 1:00 last Thursday.

*I actually snuck out at 12:45 after throwing boxes of movie candy at the secretaries to cover my tracks.

*When you get fifteen emails about school ending at 1:00 for staff, they probably mean 1:00.

*But I'd run out of things to do and I needed to clean out the Student Bribes drawer anyway.

*Besides, I was really tired.  Crazily tired.  And I needed to buy oregano plants.

*I drove by three garden centers on the way home.  I was too tired to process the steps necessary for stopping somewhere other than my own driveway.

*It was only Thursday.  Vacation was upon me.  There was all the time in the world.

*I arrived home to find that it had warned up enough for the window fan to kick on.  And it surely must have blown in a goodly amount of pollen because I suddenly felt the urge to sneeze until my head popped off.

*I should probably have done a little dusting.  Maybe run the vacuum a bit.  That could have cut a swath through the yellow haze.  But I didn't.

*"First things first," I thought.  "A nice, relaxing late lunch on a Thursday that doesn't involve answering the questions of children.  And then, I believe, a nap!"

*So that's what I did.  And I sneezed a couple more times before nodding off, but that's a small price to pay for napping midday on a Thursday.

*I woke up sick.  Full on, shivering, hacking, coughing, sneezing sick.  I gamely kept trying to blame the pollen.  I am nothing if not hopeful in the face of disaster.

*Two hours into vacation and I was sick.  It's a new record.

*I did not go oregano shopping on Friday.  I barely made it to the grocery store to replenish my tissue supply.

*I did go on Saturday, though.  I was eventually going to have to turn my phone back on, after all.

*It took me until Tuesday to actually deliver the foolish plants but, by God, there is now oregano at my SIL's house.

*I'm sort of demoted to Not Quite The Greatest SIL In The World, but I am pretty sure I got some bonus points for going out whilst sick.

*And, in case anyone is wondering, I've been sick for almost a week now.  I'm not exactly sure of the time frame because the days are blurring a bit.  I can't sleep very well because lying down causes coughing fits that wake the entire neighborhood and cause local canines to chew through their leashes in order to find the interloper infringing upon their territory.

*But I think it's been about a week...

*I'm better, though.  Much better than I was a few days ago.  I even managed to sleep a few hours last night so I have hope I might actually start enjoying summer vacation soon.

*It doesn't feel like vacation.  It feels like sick days...

*In light of my sickly state and the horrible twists of fate that were smacking me upside the head with alarming regularity, I decided I deserved a new release book instead of something from the bargain bin like I'd been planning.

*Deeply Odd (Odd Thomas) sports a price tag in the double digits.  I generally do not purchase ebooks for that amount.

*But Odd Thomas is one of my all-time favorite characters and I love the series.  

*The latter books don't have the same emotional impact for me as the first three did.  

*The first actually brought a tear to my jaded eyes...

*But I see the series coming to something big, something that might even encompass a few other books that Mr. Koontz has written.  In fact, it kind of already has...

*And I just love the way Odd talks.  I could listen to him ramble for days and days.

*Except he probably wouldn't have time what with everyone trying to kill him all the the livelong day and whatnot...

Yes, it has been an "interesting" finish to the school year and start of summer vacation.  On the plus side, all that coughing has been quite the ab workout.  Perhaps, if I ever recover, I can produce a fitness DVD called, "The Lungbuster: Swimsuit Ready In Just Seven Days Of Non-Stop Hacking!"

Or maybe I'll write a best-selling self-help novel entitled Be The Oregano: Your Inner Journey To Inflated Self-Esteem.

Failing any of that, one good night's sleep would also be kind of nice.

The sky's the limit, right?  It is summer vacation and I could do any of those things.  The trick, I think, is to not plan on doing them...

SA

WNBP: I'll Be Brief.

I just don't have it in me tonight.  Let me give you the highlights and you will understand:

*Today was the second-to-last day of school.

*It was also Field Day.

*Field Day, for those of you who home schooled your children, chose to not procreate or have managed to blank out the days when your own offspring were students, is an event where everyone has to go outside and act like they are enjoying their second-to-last-day together.

*This, at least in our case, was followed by a school cook out and an assembly called Minute To Win It.  The latter involved pitting nominated champions against one another in pitched combat.

*If you can call bean bag tossing and wearing a tennis ball in a nylon stocking in order that one might knock over water bottles like a drunken elephant "pitched combat."

*I will probably have nightmares tonight, filled with visions of middle schoolers shaking their booties frantically in order to be the first to expel ping pong balls from the tissue boxes strapped to their lower backs...

*And yes.  It looked exactly like what you are thinking it looked like.

*Pre-teens pooping ping pong balls.

*To an MC Hammer soundtrack.

*And no.  I am not making that up.

*Tomorrow is the last day of school.  It is also the day when we have to celebrate the last three classroom birthdays.  This is a lot of birthdays, at least by our standards.

*Standards which traditionally include allowing the birthday boy/girl to choose their celebratory treat.

*It is taking the entire classroom staff to put this together.  It's just too much for one person.

*Especially when one of those persons is also responsible for supervising Field Day, getting grades posted, packing up the room before the forced budgetary, week long closure of the building and mailing progress reports that haven't exactly been written yet.

*Hence, I was slogging through the frozen food department this afternoon, stinking of Field Day and desperately trying to find a big enough cheesecake, when I really just wanted to go home and shower.

*An hour ago I found my cat eating baking soda.


As you can see, I am fairly well done in at this point.  I'll see about posting something later, perhaps after the last-actually-last-day of school.  Maybe by then I shall have something remotely resembling energy.

Or, at the very least, that damn MC Hammer song out of my head...

SA

WNBP: One From The Archives! And I Am Most Definitely NOT Crying.

I'm going to divert from the format again tonight.  I can do that.  It's my blog.  I make the rules here, darn it!

Besides, it's good to shake things up every now and again.  Keeps me on my toes and all that.  So here is a Not So Much With The Bullet Points Post and a promise to return to my random blatherings in short order.

I received an email from The Cheerful Teaching Assistant last week.  She informed me that, while wandering the halls and trying to find a clear route through all the seniors lined up and attempting to do a serious version of marching practice, she happened to see a familiar face.  A very proud face.  And once she saw it, she took a moment to blubber quietly in some private corner of the high school and then inform me of the sight so I could tear up a bit myself.

I didn't outright blubber.  Let's be clear on that right now.  I may have gotten a bit misty, but I'm not all pregnant and hormonal like the CTA.  I've got some control going on over here.

Some of you might remember the owner of that face.  I've mentioned him once or twice over the years. He went through a couple of incarnations name-wise due to the fact that I first met him at the half-way mark of his sixth grade year, then didn't see him again for a brief period.  In the end, though, I settled on something like The Boy With The Bottomless Gym Bag.  It fit.  I've rarely seen a more random collection of objects make their way into a school building and to this day I don't know how he managed that particular form of magic.  It wasn't a particularly large bag.

I know I've told a few tales about him.  He was the one who, as a mere sixth grader, had the audacity to speak in dictatorial tones to me while I began the process of moving items to the new classroom I'd been assigned to the following year.

  "Put that down," he demanded.  "You are sick.  I can hear you coughing all the way down the hall and I know you have pneumonia because I heard you telling the other teachers so don't even bother lying about it.  I'm taking care of this.  It's what I do.  You go sit somewhere.  Seriously...you are as bad as my mother with this stuff!"

And that was that.  He rallied the other students and had the classroom packed, moved and almost organized before I could work up enough breath to say something about how I wasn't sure we were insured for this kind of child labor.

I remembered that kindness when I was moved up to the middle school to take over his classroom.  It's a good thing, too.  His 7th grade year was an unqualified and oft-mentioned disaster.  So much so that, by the time I arrived, he was being afforded the privilege of repeating it.  But, what can I say?  I liked the kid.  Who doesn't have some affection for a boy who forces you into a seat when you really need to be sitting but won't admit it?

Some of you might recall him now.  You may remember me telling of the time he found a doll head in his bottomless gym bag.  He hadn't the foggiest notion how it got there, but it delighted him all the same.  He tied a string to it and swung it around faster and faster until it made a whistling sound.  He's also the kid who came to school with food poisoning after a massive storm knocked out power in his town for a week.  He was shooting for perfect attendance that year and needed to make it to noon before the day counted.  I've never seen skin quite that shade of gray, but we stuck it out with him.  And he made it.

I'm positive I wrote about the time he stopped on his way out the door one warm Friday afternoon and said, "Ms. Sheep?  I know you don't have kids or anything like that.  But I still think you deserve to have a Happy Mother's Day, OK?"

There were oodles of good stories I told about TBWTBGB.  But there were lots I never shared because it somehow felt disrespectful.  Downright wrong, even.  Everyone deserves to have a protector, even if it's just about holding back a few details.

For example, I may have shared with you the day we spent trying to not talk about anything food related while he battled power-outage induced nausea.  But I don't think I ever told you about how, in addition to getting sick, he'd also been up several nights in a row with a baseball bat in hand.  He'd been protecting his sister's room after people tried to break in during those extra dark nights.

I am certain I never shared the other half of the story about that gym bag.  Some of the things he brought to school in that ever-expanding marvel of modern stitchery were personal possessions he sold to other kids in order to bring in a little more money.  Sometimes I think it was to pay for his lunch.  That was the year they made some pretty drastic changes to the free/reduced lunch policy and his family just didn't have it.  He never told me and I never asked.  But I am almost positive that is where some of those random bagged items went.

I'll bet you a million dollars right now that I didn't tell you about that time with his Dad and how he hated having to get physical but what else can you do when someone is so drunk he isn't safe?  He only shared that one incident with me.  There were others, though.  I know that.  Not "think."  Not "suspect."  I know.

There was really no way to accurately describe the look of stunned disbelief on his face when we told him that the assistant principal had made a phone call home on his behalf and convinced his mother that his efforts this year should allow him to move up as a freshman as opposed to staying at the middle school for another year.   When it finally hit home that his retention was officially rescinded, I don't think I've ever seen a boy smile so broadly.

Perhaps I mentioned that he visited us last year on a humid, rainy day.  But I didn't tell you that he was stopping by after walking fifteen miles from his older brother's place.  He'd been kicked out of his house and, because he was now living out of district, the buses couldn't come get him.  But he thought he could still make his last two classes and he really wanted to keep up his attendance if he could.

Our high school graduation was last weekend.  Prior to that, they held Convocation.  I know he was there because The Organized Teaching Assistant was present to witness her own son's pre-graduation ceremony and she saw him.  There were a lot of kids, though and it was sort of hard to pick him out of the crowd. They all dress alike for these sorts of things, you see.  In addition, there is a tradition at the end of this event where the seniors leave the stage to go give a carnation to someone who helped them through their high school years.  The idea is to remember to thank those individuals and I would imagine there is a bit of chaos at that point.  The OTA was thrilled to see her son bearing down upon her, carnation in hand.  She lost track of TBWTBGB.  She was pretty sure his mother was there, though and that he thanked her.  That is good. I like to think that there is still hope for them since I actually rather liked his mother and when you think about it, how bad could she be?  She raised a pretty decent kid, after all.

When the OTA turned around to go back to her seat, she realized there was someone next to her.  She looked up and there he was.  Still beaming, just like the CTA described and looking as proud as she'd ever seen him in his maroon cap and gown.  She was thrilled that he stopped by to say hello before leaving.  But he wasn't really there to say hello.

He was there to thank her.

I don't think he knew she would be there nor do I think it was a planned thing.  I believe he caught sight of her and wanted to make sure he said the words.  This, of course made her cry and when she passed on those thanks to me the following day, she was still a little misty.

Again, I did not cry.  I will admit to the room suddenly getting a little sparkly and having to wave my hands frantically in front of my face for a minute, but I did not cry.  I am not a mother getting ready to watch her son graduate from high school any more than I am a hormonally charged pregnant lady.  I've got a firm grip on my tear ducts and don't you forget it.  

Just a little soggy around the edges of my eyes.  That's all.  Frankly, I am beginning to think that everyone is just trying to see if they can make me weep.  But I won't.  I've got it all under control.

It is maybe just a teeny bit hard to see the screen right now, but that is probably just allergies.  No, I am not one given to overt displays of emotion.  I'm just the lady who somehow finds the time to teach in between dodging whizzing doll heads and trying to ignore the storefront lurking inside a gym bag because sometimes a little dignity is all you can give a kid.  Trust me on that one.

I will say this, though.  Most of the time, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it ain't a peacock.  And, sadly, sometimes the kid who looks like a thug and acts like a thug is truly no more than that.  Other times, however, there is more to that story.

And I'm glad I got to be a part of this one.

SA