Middle Of The Week? Already?

It is sad when a three day weekend ends.  But it is a happy moment indeed when you realize that it is a short work week.  Suddenly, Wednesday is upon me and it is time for the Wednesday Night Bullet Post!  This doesn't make up for the vast amount of stupidity that was heaped upon me yesterday.  But it makes a bit of a dent.  Let's see what I can come up with for you this evening:

*I am almost done with those progress reports that I learned I had to do in a mere two days.  

*At least I think I am.  We'll see if I've done them right.  There is always a chance that I've gone and made a mess of things since I don't normally use this particular program for progress reports.

*But, as I said to a colleague today, I've done enough that they can't say I didn't try.  They can't fire me if I try.

*The colleague noted that I have been transferred to The Bad Job At The Middle School That No One Else Would Take And Which I Am Beginning To Suspect Was A Mean Trick Played On Me By The Administration.

*It is unlikely that I will be fired.  A more fitting punishment would be Extra Strength Tenure...

*The Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty is still not pleased with his diet.  He does not see the need.

*He tells me that he is not fat.  He is "husky."

*Big boned.

*Full figured.

*That there is more of him to love...

*I still have a sore throat.  But I am ignoring it.  

*Correction:  I am ignoring it during the times when I am not complaining about it.

When the AGK feels that he is being underfed, he will drag his bowl around the kitchen and stare at it hopefully.

*I've recently downloaded a bunch more TV to the computer.  I'm hoping that I can get in some good knitting time this weekend.  

*Scarves take a long time to knit and much TV is needed.

When the bowl dragging thing doesn't work, the AGK will then rush the resident photographer.  It's kind of hard to tell if it's encouragement or outright intimidation...

*I had to spend time today with the assistant principal engaged in one of those, "help me to help you" discussions.  Two of my students made some rather poor choices.  Telling me when these things happen instead of leaving me to wonder where they are during their upcoming and lengthy suspensions would be useful.  Plus I have information and stuff that he could use when dealing with these kids.

*He seemed confused.  I'm not sure if anyone has ever offered to help him with these sorts of things before.  

*I am good at this stuff.  I can be very helpful.  I have all kinds of knowledge.  I know stuff about the law and the mental health issues involved.  I'm a regular fountain of information.

*When I'm not complaining about my sore throat, at any rate...

When all else fails and yummy foods are not provided, the AGK will resort to taking matters into his own hands.

*I intervened.  Any cat who is gaining weight whilst on a low cal/low carb diet needs help.  

*He has issues.  

*Among these issues, we include an extremely distorted image of his own body.  I'm not sure he understands that he is gi-normous...

The Big, Fluffy Kitty claimed no responsibility for this blatant display of food pilfering and assumed a horrified expression.

*I'm 99% sure that she told him to do it, though.  The BFK is the type to get baby brother into trouble.  

*I told you I'm a fountain of information regarding behavioral issues.  

There's your Wednesday Bullets!  How nice to have midweek behind me so early!   Now that I have successfully blogged the day's events, I will prepare for an evening of sore throat tending, progress report writing and television viewing.  

And cat feeding.  Dinner time is almost upon us and I don't think the AGK is going to accept anything other than a prompt serving time.

SA

Rabid Sheep

The average sheepie is a pretty placid sort of creature.  Sheepies mostly just wander around being fluffy and stopping periodically to graze.  At least I think that's how it works with sheepies.  Truth be told, I don't really have the data to back that up.  It's just one of those assumptions I've held since before I can remember.

That said, I don't think that people really understand how a sheepie can be provoked.  You can push a sheepie too far and then there will be all sorts of sheepie havoc all over the place.  

Like most sheepies, I am normally pretty placid.  I am also given to grazing but I'm less about the grass than I am the black and white cookies.  Still, there are parallels.  Included among them is my ability to be pushed to the breaking point.  

Now, I can't think of a reason why a person might feel the need to irritate a sheepie.  Further, I really don't wish to ponder too deeply the reasons why a person might want to irritate this particular Sheepie.  But, just in case you ever find yourself in need of an irritated Sheepie, here are a few pointers that might help you out:

First Irritant:  Schedule three straight weeks of achievement testing during Sheepie's preparatory periods.  For this to be really effective, you probably should make sure that she is in a new job at a new school.  You would score big points should you happen to schedule this testing after reassigning Sheepie to The Bad Job At The Middle School That No One Else Will Take And Which Requires All Her Time And Energy To Manage.

Second Irritant:  Corral her into a meeting first thing in the morning.  Make sure that it is the one that she was planning on skipping because she is short staffed that day.  Get her to think that the meeting is about rescheduling the testing for this morning.  That will bring her a-runnin'!  Once you have her there, do not mention testing.  Talk about everything but testing.  Then make sure that you remind everyone present that the paperwork following student planning meetings must be done within 14 calendar days of that meeting.  Lastly, be sure that Sheepie had one of those meetings 7 days ago.  Don't tell her until this meeting that she has a time limit on the paperwork.  It's more fun that way.

Third Irritant:  While Sheepie is frantically trying to write up the paperwork from that meeting, send her an email reminding her that progress reports are due.  This, in and of itself, will not be all that irritating.  Sheepie knows that progress reports are due.  What Sheepie doesn't know is that she cannot do the handwritten versions that she has been doing since before forever.  No.  Tell Sheepie that she has to use The Very Convoluted And Complicated Computer Program to do this.  You know the one I mean.  The one that requires you shift between two programs and that you have already input a great deal of data that she hasn't put in yet.  Yeah...that one.  

Then tell her she has a day and half to do this before the whole system slams shut so that printing may commence.  Her head will explode.  It'll be wicked cool...

Fourth Irritant:  Now this one is vital.  You have to make certain that Sheepie has been involved in Safety Procedures training and out of the classroom for a bit.  That way she will be well and truly behind in her day to day work and that the addition of all this stupid stuff will send her right over the edge.

That should just about do it.  You'll have a usually placid Sheepie foaming at the mouth.  She may even give up gentle bleating for rabid snarling.  Her schedule will change dramatically and she will be forced to set aside the scarf in progress in order that she might attend to all this stupidity.  

This is, of course, just a general set of guidelines.  You can improvise if you want.  Sometimes a unique opportunity presents itself and you just know that it will make a good Sheepie Irritant. 

For example, if you happen to be of the Big and Fluffy variety, you might want to wait until the day after Sheepie shampoos the carpets and then hork up a gigantic hairball/puke blob onto it.  That is one of those precious moments that you kind of have to seize.  You can't predict the expulsion of hairball/puke blobs, particularly if there haven't been any in a while.  It is certainly worth it, though.  The whole Irritation Scale is tipped beyond measure once she comes home to see that.

Thank God this is a short week.  That's all I have to say...

Well, ex-cuse me!  How the heck was I supposed to know that it was everyone else's turn to irritate you today?  

SA

Dressed Down

This morning's greeting of the holiday included assorted aches, a sore throat and a low fever.  On the plus side, I am pleased to know that yesterday's malaise can no longer be attributed to the consumption of donuts all weekend.  Blaming the donuts made me sad.  What did donuts ever do to deserve such treatment?  I am really quite thrilled to discover that they have an alibi.

On the downside, however, this was not really the best day for me to be feeling under the weather.  Once again, I find myself running a bit behind after failing to take care of a few things in a more timely fashion.  When you are handed a three day weekend, you really don't have any excuses left for not getting these sorts of things done.  You take some aspirin and get on with it.  Once all that stuff was out of the way, I promised myself that I could get in some couch time and do some scarf knitting.

First up on the Better Late Than Never To Do List:  Get to the bridal shop and pick up my bridesmaid dress.  I really needed to do this before they just gave up on me and sent it to the homeless so they'll have something to toss on for more formal occasions.  There was also the little matter of needing shoes.  Unless I want to be the only bridesmaid who has to color her shoes the appropriate hue with a magic marker, I needed to select something quickly and get them over to Future SIL's house.  She's taking care of the dyeing.

Perhaps it was the chills and maybe I am just so hopelessly out of sync with current fashion that I shouldn't be let out of the house ever again, but I was a bit dismayed to see what the nice bridal people seem to think I should be wearing.  I was prepared to have to deal with heel heights above and beyond that which will support my mass with any stability.  But in what boardroom was it decided that I should be wearing strappy, open-toed sandals in November?  And why do they hate me so?  What did I ever do to them that they would send me out into the elements with nothing but two straps of satin to protect my tender toes?  

I only ask because the saleslady didn't seem to know and started to get a little twitchy when I began describing the effects of frostbite on the average middle-aged bridesmaid.  Any thoughts you might have on this matter would be greatly appreciated.  Although I did manage to find a closed toe shoe at the bottom of the pile so it's kind of a moot point, I guess...

The original plan was to drop off my shoes this morning before heading home.  However, after two missed turns and one misguided attempt at changing lanes whilst challenging the laws of physics by placing my car in the same physical space as another, I thought it best to just go home.  That's the lane I was in anyway.  

Probably for the best.  I tried on the dress with the shoes when I got home and discovered that it needs to be hemmed.  That or I will need to design an elaborate pulley system to hoist the skirt up and out of the way so I can walk down the aisle.  I honestly don't think I have the time for that.

There was still no rest for Sheepie at this point, though.  The next thing to be done was something I have put off all weekend:  the shampooing of the carpets.  This represents the height of irony since the reason for doing it was compromised by the individual responsible for my needing to do it.

Now that the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty has reached such immense proportions that he either can't or won't attend to the cleaning of his gi-normous tushy, the need to clean the carpets had become pressing.  But he is also terrified of the vacuum cleaner and I can't seem to convince him that the carpet cleaner is a completely different piece of equipment.  I put the whole thing off for as long as I could out of respect for him.

And because I was watching TV...

But I could wait no longer.  Today was the day.  The AGK was immensely unhappy with this turn of events and not particularly interested in my suggestions regarding how we could avoid this in the future.  There was a great deal of hissing and crying followed by a thundering retreat to the bedroom where he hid under the bed for much of the day.  

I'd feel badly if I hadn't had to spend the first part of the weekend brushing out his southern hemisphere.  Gah!!!

With all that out of the way, I could finally settle in for some knitting and TV as well as serve myself a hearty helping of NyQuil.  Happily, the Sci-Fi Channel was running a marathon of an oldie-but-goodie.  Back in the late 80's, I used to watch a show gifted to us by our Canadian friends.  Friday the 13th (no connection to the movies) was not the most finely crafted of shows, nor were the effects anything to write home about.  But I loved it all the same and remember many a pleasant Sunday afternoon in my first little apartment watching the cast track down cursed objects in order that they not be misused by would-be evil doers.  

This is not a bad way to kill some time while you wait for the carpets to dry.  Since I was trapped on the couch anyway, it was also a good time to make some scarf length happen.  

The AGK did not watch it with me, though.  He is only just back from his stint under the bed and is still looking a bit miffed with me.  

You wants to know what I thinks of that vakoom thingie?  You really wants to know?

I.  Don'.  Likes.  It!!!!!!  Is we clear on that?

He'll forgive me.  I'm guessing that, sometime around dinner time, he'll suddenly find the love again.  Maybe I'll even let him try on my new shoes...

SA

The News From Home

I awoke this morning with a vague sense that something was amiss.  I'm not the brightest bulb in the marquis before that first cup of coffee so it took me a while to get a handle on what might be wrong.  The whole process of narrowing things down really took longer than it should have, if you want the truth.  In fairness, however, I should add that it was 5:00 in the morning and I was still half-asleep as I pondered this mystery.

Finally (and in what might be considered the nick of time, I might add) I realized that the cause of my discomfort was actual discomfort.  There were rumblies in the tumbly and I just wasn't feeling all that well.  I tend to give myself a weekend pass regarding the diet come Friday night so there were any number of possible culprits.  I hate to lay the blame on the donuts.  I really, really do.  But I fear that they were the things that did not agree with my fragile constitution.

With the timely and liberal consumption of over-the-counter tummy medications, I was able to be up and about enough to get the grocery shopping done without doing anything to shame myself publicly and the morning coffee stayed down enough to keep me awake for the trip.  After that, however, it seemed prudent to spend a nice day at home with the big glowing box of entertainment and the ever-growing scarf.

Thankfully, the whole thing was over pretty quickly.  And, with the addition of a therapeutic nap, I am now fit as a fiddle.  The added bonus of staying close to hearth and home today was that I was able to tend to one or two little matters that I'd let slip over the past few weeks.  I washed a few things that seemed to need it.  I cleaned the windows in the bedroom with a borax solution as there had been some moisture intruding on the frames last winter and I don't want any kind of mold forming there.  I ran the vacuum across the carpet a few times just to see if I couldn't make enough of those tracks you see in clean carpets.  This usually fools the average Joe into thinking I vacuum more regularly than I do.  I even called the bridal shop to confirm that I will be in tomorrow to pick up my dress and select some shoes to wear to my brother's upcoming nuptials.  

(Future SIL Sheep, please take note.  You ask.  I obey.  You make that chocolate pie that I like so much.  I am pretty much putty in your hands...)

I also knit.  Here's that picture of the scarfy goodness that I forgot about yesterday but pinky-swore I'd get up on the interwebs for you all today:

See?  I came through for ya!!!

I know it's looking a little lumpy at the moment, but I'll take care of that soon enough.  The yarn is Regia Bamboo and, while it may not block out quite like 100% wool, I do believe there is enough in there to make it behave under threat of steam and sharp pins.  If not, then it will be one of those fluffy, artsy sorts of scarves.  Either way, it is coming along nicely and I think it will make a nice little gift for someone come the holidays.  

 I strongly suspect that this morning's gastric events were Karma's way of balancing things out following my having passed that safety procedures course through naught but charm while other's studied hard.  I guess I can understand why that might be necessary, especially since I didn't seem to have any real sense of shame over my behavior.  But it all kind of worked out, if you want the truth.  Lots of stuff gets done when you are in for the day.  Plus you get to take a nap without having to explain yourself.  Boo-Boo Tummy is a condition recognized by any and all medical associations and naps are included in the course of treatment.  At least that is what I read on the internet...

I wasn't the only one taking care of business today.  There are others here who would like to share with you their activities and discoveries after hours of study, practice and observation.  We are an industrious bunch.  

The Big, Fluffy Kitty says:

I have been practicing being "Ethereal."  Tomorrow, I start my studies in "Angelic."

And the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty says:

Yook!  I gots feets!

Yup.  "Industrious."  That's us.  It is probably best if you do not try this at home.  Or, at the very least, you should stretch first.  And maybe not eat too many donuts...

SA

Behavior

Now, where were we?  Hmmm...ah, yes!  I remember!  When last we spoke, I was sitting on the couch next to my safety procedures manual and waxing philosophical about my self-destructive tendencies towards procrastination.  It was the night before I was to take the second portion of my trainer's certification course and I had only just managed to bring that stupid binder up from the car.  That is where it has been sitting since last November, save for the day that I took it with me to class a month ago.  I hadn't even bothered to look it over before that first part of the course nor had I seen any real reason to store it anywhere other than the backseat of my car following this event.  

I also seem to recall that I said something about how I was going to need to put in hours of study before bedtime and that this sad state of affairs might just have been the result of some very poor planning on my part.  When I went back over that post, it really did sound like I was owning my behavior and accepting the consequences of my actions.

This brings me to another somewhat fascinating (depending upon your perspective) aspect of my behavior:  My ability to overcome my own good intentions.

I know that many of you actually believed me when I said that I would be studying for much of the evening.  I think that is sort of sweet.  Heck, I almost believed it myself for a while there...

The truth of the matter is that I never once looked at that binder again after I'd finished posting Thursday night.  I blame television.  It is shiny and glowy and seduces me with its bright colors and simple plot lines.  The safety procedures manual doesn't even come with pictures, for heaven's sake!  It was no contest.

Besides, I have another little personality quirk upon which to fall back in times such as these.  Sure, this class was going to be a little smaller this time since it was only for the three of us who didn't get in the required teaching hours last year to qualify for our trainer's certificates.  There was no getting around the fact that I was going to have to perform in the spotlight for more of the session than I did in past classes.  And let's not even get me started on the issues around the adorableness of the trainer.  But I wasn't worried.  I have a secret weapon, you see.  

I am charming.

Yup.  It's true.  I can pretty much talk my way through anything.  Further, I am even better under pressure.  I am even more betterer, perhaps even close to most bestest, when I have a handle on how the instructor is going to teach the class.  Having already spent a lovely day with Mr. A. Dorable, The Trainer Dude, I felt confident that I could somehow stumble through this.

Using what little preparation I had under my belt, my understanding of Mr. D's teaching style and a gullet full of coffee-fueled charm, I forged ahead.  We probably don't need to discuss the whole process.  I'm not certain that it will go down in history as one of my proudest moments since it involved engaging in witty banter with the instructor and that this was clearly not being enjoyed by my fellow trainees.  They were relying on their having studied for the course and the copious use of note cards.  Unfortunately, both were so nervous that they were having a hard time staying focused.  But it was every woman for herself at that point and I needed the banter to distract everyone from the fact that I was reading the sections of the manual that I'd skipped the previous evening during class time.

We all passed.  And Mr. A. Dorable said that he loved me.  Loved.  Me.  I was that charming.  If I were ten years younger, dear readers, I swear to you that I would be sending you all my hand written wedding invitations sometime within the next week...

Girls is weird.  They is not all sophisti-ma-cated like us boys is..

We do what we have to in order to make it to the weekend, I suppose.  My shiny new Safety Procedures Trainer card should be in the mail sometime next week and I will probably be the most charming individual to ever teach choke hold release techniques in the history of the human race.  I will just have to remember to teach the class with one of the people who relied a little more heavily on reading the material is all...

Mama should try to be more like me.  I is a Man Of Mystery.  Is very classy...

With my less than honorable, but still successfully completed training behind me, I can now relax and fully enjoy this three day weekend.  The opinions of the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty aside, I feel that I have earned it.  It is very taxing to have to be all charming and making Mr. A. Dorable declare his love for me and whatnot.  I'm not as young as I used to be, after all.  I ran a few errands this morning, then settled in for a quiet day of knitting happily on the new scarf whilst watching hour upon hour of downloaded television.

TV, while somewhat distracting when you should be studying for stuff, is great for knitting.  Incredible progress was made and I am soon to be attaching a second ball of yarn.  I'm even remembering to count the stitches so that I won't have to do so much with the tinking back.  I was so impressed with my efforts that I promised myself I would put up a picture today in order that I might share my scarfy goodness with everyone else.

Once again, the intentions were good.  The follow-through?  Not so much.  I'll try to remember to do that tomorrow.

In the meantime, though, don't you feel charmed?

SA

Gah!!!

I am sitting here with my safety procedures manual, trying to absorb a great deal of information in order that I might pass the trainer's test tomorrow. I do this because I was so ordered by The Bosses Of Me.  I've been doing this for an hour or so.  I've even demonstrated some of the lectures to the cats.

And I am starting to see a little problem.

Since before forever, I have been a procrastinator.  If a task can be put off until the last possible second, then that is the option I will choose.  If you ever need to pick me out of a crowd, just look for the harried individual thumbing through a folder of some sort whilst Very Important Files flutter through the breezes in my wake.  It is likely that I am wearing yesterday's clothes and that there is some food residue in my hair.  Another hint will be the irritated looks being shot my way by the more organized people.  They hate me.  I make their lives much more complicated.  I don't blame them...

Perhaps it was poor judgement on my part to not study this stuff a little bit sooner.  I ended up having to stay late at school in order to put together some lesson plans for the half day we have scheduled for students tomorrow since I won't be there.  I also thought it might be a good idea to have a little something ready for next week so I don't have to stay past dismissal time tomorrow.  I was a bit later getting home than I intended and I really felt that I should do the short weight training session that I have been promising myself to do on Thursdays.  To say that I've been a bit haphazard with that would be an understatement.

Then I realized that I had decided to wear sweats tomorrow since I won't be teaching regular classes and will need to be demonstrating some physical maneuvers in order to meet my trainer's certification requirements.  I really only have one pair that are appropriate to wear outside of the house and they needed a bit of a wash to reach that state.  And we must not forget that the usual sort of "get ready for work" stuff needs to be done before bedtime.  

Yup.  I made a bit of a judgement error.  I did not plan well.  I have one night to process and be able to spit back a great deal of information.  That is not good planning.  That is the opposite of good planning.  It is Anti-Planning...

I'll pull it off, though.  I always do.  I won't be able to knit tonight, nor will there be much time for it tomorrow.  The curse of the procrastinator is that she has to sacrifice some of the things that make her happy every once in a while if she wants to live this sort of life.  

There is an up side, though.  For all my sacrifice tonight, I shall be rewarded threefold.  For you see, even the procrastinators get to have three day weekends when the government declares a Monday to be a holiday.  They can't take it away from me.  All I have to do is show up for the required amount of time during the work week, scramble to get everything done and then I'm home free!  I'll knit over the weekend.  And then some.  

That little perk is still in the distance, though.  Tonight, I must focus my attention on the task at hand.  The safety procedures manual remains at my side and I'm going to have to put a few more hours into the reading of it before bedtime rolls around.  It isn't going to be one of my more pleasant evenings.  But I suppose I bought the ticket for this particular ride.

To make matters worse, the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty continues to protest his diet with loud cries of hunger.  He virtually rockets into the kitchen every time I so much as rearrange my hindquarters on the sofa.  He does not care that I am studying.  He is starving to death!!!  The recommended serving amounts listed on the cat food bag do not nearly fill his gi-normous belly and he will probably faint completely away from the hunger any minute now.  The fact that I am studying (and that the consumption of his sister's food puts him in excess of his calorie limits for the day) means nothing to him.  

I guess this is better than what I'm getting from The Big Fluffy Kitty this evening.  She is fine with the portion sizes these days.  No issues there.  She does, however, seem to have some thoughts regarding my frantic manual perusal.

I think she looks a little "judge-y."  Don't you think she looks "judge-y?"  I think so.  I really do...

SA

WNBP: Because It's Wednesday...

I hustled into school early today.  Since I still have no prep periods due to testing, there was much to do before classes started.  Plus I didn't want to be late for my morning bus duty...

Then I realized that it was not Thursday.  That was a bit of a bummer.  At least I didn't have morning bus duty...

And I get to do the Wednesday Night Bullet Post.  That's a perk.  I still would have preferred for it to be Thursday, though.  In case you were wondering about that...  

Here's your bullets:

*I found a mistake in the Very Simple Scarf That Is Easy Enough To Be Almost Foolproof.

*I probably could have just left it.  It was hardly noticeable.

*I couldn't stand it.  I used my afternoon exercise bike session to tink back and make things more bearable to mine eyes.

*Here's a little sample of what it might be like to administer mandated achievement testing to The Student With Severe Attention Deficit Disorder (with hyperactivity)

Ms. Sheep:  All right, my darlings.  You are all set up at your individual testing stations and your computers are ready for you.  Should you have any questions, please do not hesitate to raise your hand.  I shall scamper hastily to your side and endeavor to give you whatever you might need in order that you may do your very best on this test.  Unless, of course, you want the answers.  I'm not allowed to do that.

Student With Severe Attention Deficit Disorder (wh):  (Raises hand and waves it frantically in the air whilst making little whimpering noises.)

MS:  Yes, my angel?  Whatever do you need?  I am here to serve.

SWSADD(wh):  Where did you get that sweater?

MS:  (Performs those deep breathing exercises that are supposed to keep her head from exploding because that will probably force the test proctors to stop the test and she'll just have to go with the kids to do that make-up session.)

*I am so remiss when it comes to the Thank You's.  

*I'm also pretty horrible with Memes.  Seriously.  I firmly believe that my current life circumstances can all be traced back to that chain letter I let lapse back in the seventh grade...

*But I really should say, "thank you so very, very much" to Leigh, Annie and Cursing Mama for their kind words and bloggy type awards.  I was so thrilled that you thought of me and am always a bit surprised when someone mentions me as a blogger worth visiting.

*Since I cannot for the life of me narrow down my list of favorite bloggers, I fear that the chain ends here.  I love you all like family and I just don't have time to do all that linking...

*More fun with testing the students:

Student Who Has Decided To Make My Life Difficult With Loud, Token Refusals To Participate:  I ain't doin' it!  This is so stupid!!!

Ms. Sheep:  Oh come now, angel.  It won't be so bad.  And you get to show everyone how smart you are!

SWHDTMMLDWLTRTP:  (Censored Response)

MS:  (giving up all pretense of patience)  Dude...seriously.  Enough.  You have to do it.  The president says so.

SWHDTMMLDWLTRTP:  (Another Censored Response Which Indicates That I May Have A Future Democrat On My Hands.)

*The Absurdly Gi-Normous Kitty continues to protest the cutting back on foodstuffs most vigorously.  And loudly.

*It is a necessary thing, though.  He has lost the ability to reach his hindquarters for cleansing purposes.  

*'Nuff said.

*He is gi-normous.

*I bought him a kitty tunnel connector thingie that is rather large.

He spans it.  And then some.  It's like one of those weird optical illusions...

*I finally decided to bring the manual for that safety procedures course up from the car.  It's been sitting in there since I took the first part of the course and I figured I should get a head start on studying the stuff I have to demonstrate in order to be certified as a trainer for the district.

*I am nothing if not a planner.  Always thinking ahead, that's me!

*The test is Friday morning.  There are only three of us taking the class, so I will probably have to teach eight million things.  The list is in an email that Mr. A. Dorable The Instructor Dude sent me.

*I am too busy to go find that email what with all the studying.  Plus it came a while ago and it is buried under lots of other emails.  It would probably be faster to just study everything.

*Poor Mr. A. Dorable.  I wouldn't wish me on any instructor.  

I guess I should be looking over that manual instead of chatting away with you guys.  Two evenings of haphazard perusal should be plenty.  Unless there is something good on TV or the AGK needs me for something.

Then I guess one night will be OK.  I'm starting to think that it is a good thing it isn't Thursday...

SA

Be Careful What You Wish For

I bundled myself up all snugly this morning and headed out to brave another day in my classroom.  Or, as I have taken to calling it of late, The Arctic Tundra.  The sun was scheduled to be high in the sky today and there was hope that the room might warm up by late morning.  Until then, however, my students, staff and I were going to be tucked away like Popsicles in the freezer section.

I arrived at school a bit earlier than usual since all the testing we are doing these days has pretty much wiped out any planning periods I might have once had.  I entered my classroom and...the heat was on!  

A quick check of the email revealed that our Heroic Principal had begged The Powers That Be for some respite from our frigid condition and had been granted two hours of heat each morning.  He warned us to not get too attached to it.  It seems that we started the school year over budget in the heating department but Mr. Principal promised us that he would make it his business to keep the temperatures at 65 degrees or die trying.

There was much rejoicing.

We reveled in the warmth.  We spake words of praise and even burst out in spontaneous song every now and again, making certain to use the principal's name in each verse.  It was super keen to be warm again.

Oddly, though, this gift from the central office did not leave us after a couple of hours.  In fact, it seemed to get more powerful after the first two class periods.  That was OK.  We were still kind of grateful for the feeling in our toes.  

When it stayed on through lunch, however, our happiness started to fade a bit.  It was beginning to get a tad uncomfortable.  No one dared approach the radiators for fear of third degree burns.  Plus, we didn't want to make them angry.  There was no telling how we might be punished should we attempt to shut them off.  It was better to just open the windows and hope that the cool breezes might make things more bearable.

If nothing else, it might help disperse the scent of Overheated Teen Aged Boys...

By dismissal time, we'd all started speaking with thick southern accents and adopted postures more suited to a lazy day fishing down at the creek.  Half of us were ready for naps and I was one of them.  This meant that I was not exactly at my best for my 2:00 meeting.  I used the word, "Dude" a total of seven times.  That is not exactly protocol.  

And, yet, no one really seemed to notice...

There is just no middle ground to be had these days, I suppose.  I left just after 3:00 in spite of the fact that I still had worksheets to copy and lesson plans to write.  I just couldn't keep my eyes open for another second.  Here's hoping that I'm not abducted by aliens during the night because there will be a roomful of kids with nothing to do tomorrow morning if I don't make it in.

It is more likely that I will be trampled by an Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty, though.  He is not exactly thrilled with the new diet.  Not one little bit.  Every time I make a move towards the kitchen, he thunders past me and screeches to a halt by his bowl hoping that there will be some little offering of the edible persuasion.  He also cries a lot.  He cries while I am picking up stupid dropped stitches on the scarf.  He cries while I am riding the little exercise bike for an hour and cursing all those black and white cookies I ate this weekend.  He cries while I make up excuses for not doing any weight training since I spent extra time on the hated bike.

Sometimes he just sits on my foot and cries.

Ask for the heat to be turned on and you get a solid wall of superheated air that sucks the very life force from you.  Ask for a big, squishy kitty to love and you get eight thousand pounds on your slipper-clad foot.  You have to be careful what you wish for.

He's awfully cute, though.  Maybe it's brain damage from the searing temps, but I really think the AGK has earned a little treat.  Who wants a skinny kitty, after all?  

Plus, I don't have the same heating system here at the manse as we do at the school and a chubby kitty could add some body heat to the coming winter nights...

SA

Not A Fan Of The Man With The Gadget

I arrived this morning at school to find the thermometer in the second of our two teaching spaces barely hitting 57 degrees on the Fahrenheit scale.  This did little to make my arrival at work anything along the lines of joyful.  Monday is not the best of days on any given week unless it is a holiday and this, obviously, was not one of those.  

And it was 57 degrees Fahrenheit.  Inside.

As we had little choice in the matter, my staff and I forged ahead hoping that some very vigorous teaching might keep us from just slipping away into the cold, welcoming arms of severe hypothermia.  For the record, there is no amount of vigorous teaching that will actually warm a body up to the point where you can forget about the fact that it is 57 degrees Fahrenheit.

Shortly before lunch, we were visited by The Man With The Gadget.  It seems that my pleas for warmth were heard by our well-intention principal and that he'd sent the head custodian in to do a temperature check.  He wandered around looking for all the world like a somewhat husky and jumpsuit clad member of the Starship Enterprise.  He moved from room to room with his handheld Super Impressive Temperature Taker Thingie, scanning the air in search of good temperature readings.  He muttered all sorts of things that sounded quite technical.  We hoped for the best.  We prayed that he might get a reading which might convince the Other Guy Who Runs The Gadget Which Turns On The Heat that it was time to push that button.

But we knew better...

By then, you see, the sun was out.  It had been happily baking the windows and there was no way on earth we were going to look like the freezing individuals that we really were.  Even if the bright, glowing orb in the sky had managed to get the temperature back up to a rousing 65 degrees, we still hadn't managed to warm up after a morning spent in a meat locker.  The custodian left us with a scathing look, now muttering something about fragile females who will complain about everything and take time out of his busy day.  

I can't help but wonder if that fancy temperature-sensing gadget might have equaled the cost of a day's heat in our classroom.  An hour even...

I'm watching the forecast with great interest.  Any day that doesn't come with abundant sunshine is not going to be a pleasant one.  Until they turn on the heat in the building, we'd better have clear, sunny days.  

Meanwhile, the award for Keeping The Sheep Alive Until The Big Metal Thingies Start Pumping Out The Warm Air goes to April!  Let's all say a nice, big, "Thank You!" to she who gifted me with a pair of warm socks knit just for Sheepie.  They were the only things between me and an icy grave up until about noon today.  Bless you, April!  

I'm still knitting away on that scarf I started over the weekend.  That is intended as a gift that I might tuck away for the coming holidays and isn't going to help me much in my quest for survival.  Fortunately, I have lots and lots of nice, clean socks ready for wearing after my weekend of sock-washing.  

However if you don't hear from me, you might want to start making some phone calls.  There is no telling how long the sunny weather will last...

SA

No One's At The Door (Thank Heavens...)

I've been lamenting the situation with the economy since this past summer.  Not so much because of the threat to our way of life or the fact that there is an election coming up, although I suppose I should be more concerned about those things.  Mostly I am...honest.  But the whole thing with the economy has meant that I am penny pinching and can't go out and buy all those things I want to purchase with wild abandon.  The thing I've been craving most of late has been a certain boxed set of dvds.  I found the price to be more than I was willing to shell out in these dark financial days, however, and decided to let cooler fiscal heads prevail.  

Imagine, then, my joy at finding the whole ding-dong series on Hulu this weekend!  Further, imagine the amount of time I have spent glued to the sofa staring at a computer monitor and eating black and white cookies.  Not a pretty picture.  Maybe it's best if you don't imagine that part...

American Gothic came out in 1995 and had a sadly short run.  In one of life's most ironic twists, it was created by Shaun Cassidy who also did some of the writing and and was a supervising producer.  There were many inconsistencies in the presentation and the writing, I fear and far too many attempts to humanize the villain of the story.  That led to some disjointedness in the whole flow of the thing.  Still, it was a great piece of television drama and really quite gripping.  It wasn't so much filmed as it was rendered.  Atmosphere fairly dripped from the screen.

And no.  I am not going to provide you with a Shaun Cassidy link.  If you are not the sort of person who can sit down with me and engage in a lively debate over which Hardy Boy would be the one you'd like to marry and then join me in a rousing chorus of Da Doo Ron Ron, then I fear for our friendship.  It is for the sake of our relationship that I don't test it by putting up the link.  You can just pretend you read the same teen magazines as I and we can go on from there.

Should you choose that route, I will further assist you by telling you that the answer to the first question is:  Joe.  There is no question about it.  Period.  End of discussion.

Even better, they brought in Sam Raimi as one of the executive producers.  You will probably remember him from my beloved Evil Dead trilogy.  Well, the first one is beloved.  The second is one I'd probably have a long term relationship with but never actually wed.  The third, Army Of Darkness, is just kind of silly.  But it has the best lines so I'd probably go out for a beer with it...

I guess that watching the whole thing on downloads is not quite the same as having the dvd set and the picture quality leaves a bit to be desired.  But it has still been a rather happy weekend for this Sheep.  Nothing like living in the past while watching good and evil play out on the small screen, now is there?  Sheriff Buck is as bad to the bone as I remembered him to be and still makes a girl long for the return of the vest as a male fashion statement.  It is also good to know that four little words like, "Someones at the door," can still send a shiver down my aged, creaky spine.

Iz skeeeery!  I hides in here with mine eyes shuts tight!!!!

While it may not be the viewing material of choice for the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty, it is rather good for scarf knitting.  I have knit myself a rather impressive length of scarf thanks to the hours spent parked in front of the monitor.  It wouldn't do to not use the time somewhat productively, now would it?  People might ask what I did all weekend and we don't want them calling in some sort of social service agency for the housebound.  That would interfere greatly with my viewing schedule!

This was from yesterday, actually.  There is oodles more now.  

OK.  So the economy is still in the toilet and I don't have a boxed dvd set in my collection.  I also may have had something of a "lost weekend" and perhaps there is no hope of getting all those ground-in cookie crumbs out of the couch cushions without some kind of very toxic solvent.  But I am still a pretty happy Sheepie tonight.  I've got a great deal of scarf to my credit, I remembered to feed the cats and once ran the vacuum over the carpets during a viewing break.  Heck, I even remembered to shower a couple of times.  All in all, I can't think of a better way to spend a couple of days.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got precious little weekend left and several more episodes to view before it all comes to an end.  I am also planning on checking the locks once or twice.

You never know when you'll hear, "Someones at the door..."

SA

Bah. Humbug.

I have been giving some thought to setting my classroom on fire.  Actually, I don't so much have one classroom as I have a suite of rooms designed to contain me along with my Less-Than-Cheerful-Teaching-Assistants and the students who were gifted unto me this year in the hopes that I might somehow make the educational magic happen.  

Disclaimer:  I would never set a classroom on fire.  I write this for the overall dramatic effect and entertainment value of the post.  Fire bad.  Make a note of this.  

Now before all the other teachers get up in arms and start sending me hate mail about how I should be grateful for this palace I've been giving whilst they labor in a single room, please remember that we are talking about The Bad Job At The Middle School Into Which I Was Transferred And Am Where I Am Now Being Held Hostage For The Foreseeable Future.  Sure, it's nice having an office where I can hide from the children and pretend that they can't see me through the wall to wall windows.  But it ain't paradise, folks.  Let's keep this in perspective.

The quality of the job is not why I'm thinking of a career in pyromania, though.  It's more about surviving the coming winter months.  For the last few days, I have been keeping a record of the temperature in my office and the room next door.  We are ringing in at a rousing 60 degrees Fahrenheit every morning.  The heat does not seem to be coming on and I fear for the retention of all ten fingers and toes if something of a heat source does not present itself soon.

Thus, I was rather pleased to run across the principal yesterday as I was escorting a few of my 7th graders back from their first round of state mandated testing.  I told the boys to sit tight for a moment and mentioned to Mr. Principal that the conditions in my classroom were downright frigid.  In fact, I theorized, I might need to requisition a space heater.  And if we are now banned from having coffee pots in the classrooms, you can only imagine how the insurance company is going to view that...

Mr. Principal, a true orator if there ever was one, then proceeded to launch into a story of his own.

"Why Ms. Sheep, your tale brings to mind that old movie from nineteen-blah-de-blah.  Perhaps you've seen it?  It is the words of Mr. Charles Dickens brought to life on the silver screen and titled "A Christmas Carol."  Of course, most people don't realize that the one with which we are all so familiar is actually the second.  An earlier film was released in nineteen-blather-dee-something and is, in my opinion, a much finer cinematic experience."

I nodded knowingly at this point.  It seemed best to pretend an awareness of the history of holiday-related cinematography given that at least two of the four students awaiting the end of this conversation now had that "hey, I have an idea..." look in their eyes.  That rarely bodes well.  Mr. Principal continued, oblivious of the doomsday potential lurking just to the right of us:

"However, in both versions, you are able to see those poor souls under the supervision of Mr. Scrooge toiling away under what must have been unbearably frigid conditions.  It is not only the acting, but the wardrobe that gives this away."

I continued to nod furiously, knowing not only what he meant but beginning to suspect where all this was leading.  I fear my attention was not really on the conversation at this point, though.  All four of my would-be mischief makers were now huddled together in conversation and periodically glancing back at me in a manner that could only be described as "furtive."  Things were going to get ugly fast and I had little left in the way of reserve energy on a Friday and after having spent much of that trying to keep my core temperature up.  I prayed for a quick resolution to this little chat without my having to make Mr. Principal's point for him.  That would, after all, have been rude...

"And if you observe these characters closely, my dear Ms. Sheep, you will note that all wear a certain piece of winter-wear that I feel might benefit you in these chilly days.  Upon their busy working hands you will note that marvelous invention known as...the fingerless glove!  I don't suppose you might be able to acquire such a thing?"

I quickly assured Mr. Principal that I had one or two pairs of those very accessories lying around the house and the ability to produce others should they prove too well hidden.  I then bid him a somewhat hasty adieu as the 7th graders were giving me every indication that they had used their time to plan a very successful mutiny.  One which might even negate my need to light that fire in my office now that I think about it...

Sheesh.  Lectured on the usefulness of the fingerless mitts by a non-knitter.  That is just wrong!  More than that, he had little to offer in the way of help with getting the heat turned on.  It seems that there is one guy at a computer who monitors and controls all that stuff and he hasn't really seen the need to push the button yet.  I'm guessing that his office is pretty toasty what with all the computers and stuff.  

I was also told that I was not allowed to go visit him.  That was actually made pretty clear.  I guess there was a little of the mutiny in my eyes as well...

I suppose that is why I was so resistant to the idea of spending my weekend knitting handwarmers.  Instead, I am mutinously knitting a scarf.  And it is going rather swimmingly, if I do say so myself.  We got off to a rough start, but a change in yarn has made everything ever so much better and great progress has been made.  

This is where the picture of the scarf would be if Blogger was feeling even remotely receptive to that sort of thing right now.  I suppose everyone gets to feeling a little mutinous every now and again...

But even a fussy uploader can't resist the kitty pix.  Those seemed to travel across the interwebs just fine.  Here are my furry roommates in all their weekend napping glory:

The Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty took custody of the Equally Gi-normous Tunnel Connector Thingie That I Bought By Accident.  I was lucky to even see this much of him for most of the day.

Others of the Big and Fluffy persuasion (who are a little more kind to the yarn) were given couch access and chose to snooze there.  Until, that is, a certain photographer happened along.  Then they chose to glare menacingly there.  

Even better, it is warm here.  I feel no urge to strike flint whatsoever.  I have also been washing and laying out to dry every handknit sock I can find in the depths of the laundry basket.  These are desperate times and require that the woolens be ready for action.  Tonight, we start looking for those handwarmers.

Just how flammable is wool, anyway?  No reason...just asking.

SA

In The Pink. Or Is It Blue?

I called the doc's office this morning to remind them that they had failed to provide me with that little blue slip of paper that would allow me access to the medication that I like to take every day.  This had resulted in my running out of medication.  The fact that I remembered to call them this morning is fairly impressive since the medication tends to help me with the remembering of things.

I took this as  good sign for the day and all that I had to get done.

Frankly, I think I did rather well.  I found myself to be witty, charming and full of amazingly good (if utterly impractical) ideas.  Nothing caught on fire, no one is suing me as of yet and several students actually learned a couple of things whilst under my tender, loving care for 7 hours.  

I am choosing to ignore the fact that one of my Less Than Cheerful Teaching Assistants (who may be starting to perk up a bit and getting with the Cheerful Program) bid me farewell at day's end by noting that they wouldn't worry if I didn't make it in tomorrow because they'd know I was probably incarcerated somewhere.  That's kind of funny and indicates a raising of the Cheer level.  I'm pretty sure that this is a good sign for the overall Cheerfulness situation in my classroom.  

I'm feeling positive.  Sure, I still have the Hideous, Insidious Cold.  And, predictably, that scarf I was knitting last night went quite badly.  (Horrifically so, if you want the truth.  I'm not even going to continue with it.  At least not with that particular yarn.  Any yarn that doesn't want to let go of itself enough to be tinked back after a boo-boo is not the yarn for me.)  It isn't technically Friday and the weather wasn't exactly cooperating with us for much of the day today.  Not to mention the fact that the kids aren't behaving any better than they were yesterday...

But things are not so bad, really.  There is always more yarn with which to knit and I'll eventually find the one that will work with this pattern.  Tomorrow is, in fact, Friday and I'm certain I'll survive the day.  Especially now that I have a brand new, fifty dollar bottle of medication sitting on the counter for my consumption.  

Plus, Crazy Aunt Purl gave us all a link to that wonderful thing called Hulu and now I can watch all sorts of TV that I missed this week without having to pay Itunes for it.  That is a nice, little perk on a Thursday!

Yup.  Things are looking up!  Even the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty thinks so!

I wuz sleepin.  She woked me up.  And she did not feeds me the yummy foods...

See?  He is as giddy as I.  And he didn't even get that nice blue slip of paper.

SA

WNBP: The "Are You Kidding Me?!" Edition

If it is not Wednesday, then I don't want to hear it.  I know I've said that before.  But this time I really mean it.  If tomorrow is not Thursday and soon to be followed by Friday, then there will be no dealing with me.  I will be insufferable.  More so than I am on a regular Thursday.  And I'm told that this is not always a pleasant time for people so you can imagine how testy I shall be...

Here Be The Midweek Bullets:

*It was a rainy sort of day today.  The kind of day best spent huddled under an afghan.

*The afghan thing is even more appropriate if you happen to have a stubborn cold that has decided to settle into your chest.  

*I did not spend the day under an afghan.

*The students in my class today were not good.  Not remotely so.  

*Best Conversation Of The School Year Thus Far:

Ms. Sheep (just about at her wit's end and ready to try pleading if it will settle down some of the more rowdy boys in the bunch)  Dude...please.  You've got to hold it together!

Dude (AKA: Kid Who Is Nearing The End Of His Short Life And Perhaps Knows This) I am holding it together.  Sometimes it just come loose is all...

*Saved his own life with that one, he did.

*I had a doctor's appointment today so I got to leave school early.  I had mixed feelings about this.

*Feeling The First:  Anxiety over how the students might fare in my absence.  

*Feeling The Second:  Utter joy at the prospect of leaving them behind.

*It is pure coincidence that I had a doctor's appointment today.  I didn't have a cold when I made the appointment.  I was just running out of medication.

*I made it to the office with time to spare and looking forward to maybe getting a little bit of nice cough medicine along with my regular prescription.

*The doctor was out.  Family emergency.  

*The phones were down.  No calls could be made to cancel appointments.

*Not that it would have mattered since I've changed jobs and they don't have that number.

*My medication is classified as a controlled substance and there are all sorts of rules around its being dispensed.

*No little blue slip was left for me.  

*I am out of meds.

*I also didn't get any nice cough syrup.  

*I can't get back to the office until tomorrow afternoon and there is still a chance I won't get the scrip without seeing the doctor live and in person.

*I hate everyone involved.  

* I realize that this is unreasonable and that no one was actively out to get me.  These things happen and normal, rational people understand this.

*I still hate everyone involved.  

*I have a cold and I am grumpy.

*I did not work out this afternoon because I am grumpy and snuffly.  I should have since I was up at 11:30 last night due to an adverse reaction to the antihistamines I'm taking.

*Although why that reaction should have caused me to eat half a carton of ice cream, I have no idea.  That is not usually one of the symptoms.  I normally just get the jitters...

*To Recap:   I'm tired.  I have a cold.  I am out of my regular meds.  I have no cough medicine.  My students are full of energy and working together in a diabolical scheme to drive me utterly mad.

*So I figured I'd start a scarf in laceweight since I'm already in such a delightful sort of mood.  

*I cannot possibly imagine any sort of scenario involving violence resulting from this.  Not at all...

Yes, I do truly hope it is Wednesday.  And that tomorrow is Thursday.  And that the next day is Friday.  And that I can maybe ingest cold medications tonight without having to leap out of bed all jittery and stuff.  (I'm all out of ice cream...)  And that the doctor is in tomorrow afternoon and willing to sign her name to the blue slip of paper.  

I'll even forgo the cough syrup.  It's probably for the best.  I don't knit so well when I take the "good" cough syrup...

SA