Retro Text

It's been an odd couple of days at The Learning Factory. Yesterday, two students were out sick and I had to send the Cheerful Teaching Assistant home because no one should ever be out among living people in that condition. Seriously. There was no amount of makeup in the world that was going to conceal the degree to which she was ill. Short-staffed and with a small enough class that two kids out means a significant dent in the learning population, the schedule was highly altered.

Today, the Teaching Assistant From Last Year Who Is Becoming More Cheerful was out sick. One of the sick kids from yesterday was out again and new one followed suit, leaving me in the same situation as yesterday. The schedule and class coverage was adjusted yet again. Plus I had to leave early for a meeting which always turns the day on its head. The fact that no one was there to meet with me when I got to the designated meeting location made things even weirder.

You start anticipating the weird after a while. It takes very little to give you pause. Today, for example, I couldn't help but notice that The Charming Boy Who Gets Away With Way More Than He Should was passing notes to The Boy Who Needs A Nicotine Patch By Noon. It wasn't like they were doing much to hide this fact so noticing it wasn't fancy detective work on my part. As the teacher in this situation, I felt it my duty to deal with this blatant display of non-compliance. It is, after all, a time honored tradition.

Ms. Sheep: Excuse me! Just what do you think you are doing?

(note: this is a stupid question since the deed and intent are obvious, but this is just how we are taught to do it in teacher-school)

Charming Boy Who Gets Away With Way More Than He Should: (still happily jotting notes and sliding them across the table to his peer) We're texting!!!

MS: (losing any kind of grip on her stern expression) Oh. My. God...

CBWGAWWMTHS: You know what, Ms. Sheep? I think we've invented a new way to text!!!! Pretty soon everyone will be doing it this way!

(Ms. Sheep and the Cheerful Teaching Assistant look at each other blankly for a full minute. Both know that this is a moment worthy of commentary, but neither can think of anything that fits. The boys continue "texting" for the remainder of the class period)

Texting. With paper and pencil. I'd laugh, but this means that I'm now old enough for my own schoolgirl behaviors to be coming back into vogue. This makes my head hurt.

I came home and did some knitting while I pedaled the exercise bike and watched Hulu on the laptop. I felt that some good, old fashioned technology was in order at that point. I mean, honestly! What has the world come to with the crazy kids texting in class and using up all the paper in the process?

As if that weren't bad enough, the texting bug seems to have been caught by another in my immediate circle. Abandon your fur babies so you can go back to school when summer vacation ends and there are sure to be repercussions.

I wants mine own phone. I miss mine mama and wants to send her texts allllll day!!!!!

That would be a rousing NO on that one, I'm afraid. I find it hard to believe that he could stay within his minutes and the bill would be insane. Plus, the Big, Fluffy Kitty would want one, too and I don't know if there are any family plans that include cats at this point in time. I would also imagine that they'd be texting me all day, wanting me to settle petty arguments over who gets The Big Cookie Bed or how much is too much when it comes to crunchies. I don't see how this could end well.

Of course, it will take some time before the AGK accepts this answer. I'm going to have to hold firm. You have no idea how far he will go when he really, really wants something. He can put The Charming Boy to shame...

PUH-LEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZ!!!!!!!

SA

25% On

I mentioned earlier in the week that I pulled a muscle in my neck. Being as I am a selfless creature who believes that suffering in silence is the more dignified way to live, I didn't dwell upon this matter. I know. I'm a model of sacrifice in a world gone mad with self-indulgence.

This neck issue has continued to plague me for days now. One does not realize how much of a role the neck plays in day to day living until it starts to complain. One cannot turn one's head to see danger coming. Or pastries, for that matter. One cannot sleep on one's left side because that makes the right side hurt. This is a problem if one really, really needs to sleep on the left and will just roll that way anyway once one nods off. Then one gets to wake up more sore than when one started because motor memory doesn't much care about a pain in the neck. One might eventually find a comfortable way to hold one's head, but eventually something will happen that will jar the neck and then it hurts all over again. (Certain Absurdly Gi-normous Kitties and their love of being underfoot being one of those "somethings".)

It is, in short, a stupid way to live. And it makes one look ridiculous so there is little in the way of sympathy from those who have to look at the hunchback in their midst.

It's getting better, though. In fact, I'd say that I am 75% better than I was on Tuesday. I'm grateful for that and take it as a good sign that things are improving, but 25% of ouchiness is still unpleasant.

However, life does go on and this particular Sheepie needed to go to the store this morning to buy eggs. Eggs are an essential part of the morning commuter breakfast and the ones in the fridge passed their optimal freshness date several weeks ago. Pain in the neck or not, the journey was necessary.

And so it was done. While at the store, I happened to pass down an aisle which caused a sudden head-turning reaction. This, of course, also cause a pain reaction but I barely felt it. I was too mesmerized by what lay before me.

All summer merchandise: 75% off!!!!

I have a weakness for percentages off, especially when they are presented on hastily scrawled signs and taped in place. In fact, I sometimes think I spend more on discount merchandise than I would have had I just purchased sensible, necessary things at full price. But still...75% off!

Just as I was beginning to get my neck pain back under control and start thinking more logically about the things I really need as opposed to those I don't no matter what the discount, I heard a gasp to my left. Carefully, I turned to see a woman standing at my side. She looked at me and said in tones both soft and reverent:

75% offfffffff.....

I felt a little bit better. I'm not the only one. In fact, I was the very model of restraint by comparison. While she stocked up on beach chairs, fans and patriotic plates for next summer's Fourth of July Cookout, I merely picked up two items. In her defense, the party they have on the Fourth is also their anniversary and it will be their 25th so I think she deserves to splurge a bit there. I don't begrudge her at all.

And yes. People do have a tendency to share every aspect of their lives with me in the grocery store. If you met me there, you'd do it, too. You'd be powerless to do anything else if my shopping history is any indication.

Summer clearance items don't always make sense as Fall approaches. But, when you come from a family that uses the grill well past the traditional barbecuing season, it doesn't hurt to snag a stocking stuffer or two when the opportunity presents itself. I also purchased a light-up football for the kids in my class to use when they earn free time in the afternoons. Currently, they are using this time to throw rocks at live hornet nests and I think this will be a better choice in the long run. Unless they throw the ball at the hornets, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it...

It was worth the head-turn. Only 25% of the pain and 75% off the merch. Math isn't my strong suit, but I think this one worked out OK. And I left lots of stuff for my fellow bargain hunter to pick from. When I left the aisle, her mother had joined her and they were eagerly pawing over the shelves. They looked very, very happy.

So uplifted was I by this happy and comparatively pain-free turn of events, I even spent some time knitting today. Of course, it was the Invisibility Shawl that caught my eye and I think we all know how the math works out when you factor in things like lace weight yarn and time invested. I don't have 75% of the shawl done. I might be able to stretch things a bit and say I have 25% done...but you'd have to be using very forgiving math to hang your hat with mine on that one. I am just happy to have been able to sit and knit for a while. Between the lack of motivation and The Great Neck Pain Excuse, I haven't been very good about that part of my life lately.

I only wish my weekend wasn't 75% over. I could use the extra time for healing, knitting and scouring the discount aisles...

SA

User-User-Yes-Shop

Ms. Sheep had a somewhat trying afternoon on Thursday. As a result, she was a bit behind schedule come day's end. She blearily made her way downstairs to the copier where she hoped to get some worksheets ready for the students to refuse to do the next day and she cut through the main office to shorten the trip.

There, she met the secretary who was putting on her coat and saying her good-byes to all and sundry. Ms. Sheep jokingly said, "Yeah...you should go now. I'm going to copy. There will be collating involved."

The secretary, having had many dealings with the copier malfunctions that inevitably follow Ms. Sheep's attempts at collating, quickly suggested that she use the office copier. That one seems more resistant to whatever it is that Ms. Sheep does to make the other one break down. Ms. Sheep always gets to use the office copier. It is a privilege because that one doesn't require a staff code and doesn't keep track of how much paper is being used at taxpayer expense. The secretaries have an odd affection for Ms. Sheep and find her helplessness in certain areas to be kind of charming. Most motherly types do...

She turned the copier back on and instructed Ms. Sheep in how to turn it off again when she was done. "It is simple," she said. "You just hit the User button which brings you to the User Screen. You select the shut-down function and hit "yes" to confirm. That's it! And if you run into trouble, Mr. Principal is right across the hall in Mr. Assistant Principal's office and he can do it for you. Otherwise, just close the door and it will lock up right behind you."

Ms. Sheep repeated the mantra, "User-User-Yes." She confidently assured the secretary that she could handle it from there. And she did. The worksheets were copied, collated and stapled. The User-User-Yes sequence was followed and the deed was done. All Ms. Sheep needed to do was close the door and she was home-free!

Except that she wasn't. As she was exiting the room, Mr. Assistant Principal hailed her heartily from his office.

Mr. Assistant Principal: Bye Ms. Sheep!

(Ms. Sheep prepares to return the farewell, but before she can do so, she is interrupted.)

Mr. Principal: MS. SHEEP!!! DO. NOT. CLOSE. THAT. DOOR!!!!!!!!!!

(Ms. Sheep is startled and can only make noises that do not translate well into print. They are similar to the gobble of a dying turkey. Mr. Principal is a man of many talents, though, and speaks gibberish fluently. He correctly translates her gobbling as, "Of course, Fearless Leader. Your wish is my command. But may I ask why you wish this door to remain open?")

MP: Ms. Sheep. You have NOT shut off the lights. You have NOT shut down the copier.

MAP: (giving the principal a look of infinite patience usually reserved for small children and dogs taking obedience class for the third time) Mr. P, you do realize that the light switch is on the outside of the room, not the inside, right?

MP: Oh. Well, the copier is still on.

MS: (buoyed by MAP's confidence level and now able to find her voice) User-User Yes!!! User-User-Yes!!!!

(Ms. Sheep quickly realizes that regaining the power of speech doesn't mean she has mastered coherence at this time. She extends her index finger and begins helpfully miming button pushing gestures to lend more meaning to her words.)

MP: I take that to mean you shut off the copier.

MS: User-User...I mean Yes! Yes! I shut off the copier just like Ms. Secretary taught me. I think. Let me look...yes! It is off.

MP: I'm so sorry! I thought I heard Ms. Secretary say she wanted me to shut it off. I didn't mean to startle you like that.

MS: No...wait. Let me look again. Yes. It is off. I did it!

MP: Have I not demonstrated adequate contrition here?

MS: No...I mean yes! I'm just doubting myself now...

MAP: Don't worry. I'm keeping track here. (gets paper and pencil from his desk) That would be Ms. Sheep -1 Mr. Principal- 0.

Yesterday was Friday and picture day. As I waited in line for my turn to be immortalized for posterity and my i.d. badge, I made a point of telling Mr. Principal that I'd told Ms. Secretary how he'd yelled at me. I wished him good luck with that and noted that I'm actually more scared of her than I am of him.

"As well you should be, " he said, "As well you should be..."

I was very much ready to be done with this week and to have a little fun-time. Preferably time that didn't require me to remember shut-down sequences or demonstrate extreme bladder control when very loud principals think I am wasting electricity. Fortunately, I had plans to meet up with my sister-in-law so that we could go with Mommy Sheep to The United Maine Craftsman Show this morning. That is much more relaxing than copying stuff as far as I'm concerned and Mommy Sheep also buys me lunch. She doesn't yell at all.

I was much more conservative in my spending this year. It is, after all, a recession. One must balance the need to support local artisans with the ability to keep the lights on. However, I did manage to snag a couple of Christmas gifts and might even remember where I've hidden them come December. I also gifted myself a bit because I deserve it after all my strife and stuff.

I visited with a favorite potter and picked up a very cool garlic bowl just perfect for bread dipping. I also made a point of dropping by Hilltop Handspun so I could squeeze a skein or two. I love the yarns and the vendor is just about the sweetest thing in the world. She would never yell at me for remembering to turn off the copier.

It's kind of a weird day when you spend more for a skein of yarn than for a hand-made bowl, but I don't begrudge the monies. The heart wants what the heart wants and the artist should be paid accordingly.

It was a lovely day. Even better, SIL Sheep bought me fudge. You can go on and on about that time your SIL gave you a kidney, but I got fudge!!! Fudge!!!! I am not hating on the kidneys or anything...but fudge!!!!!!!

Frankly, it's almost like Thursday never happened. Except for the part where Mr. Assistant Principal gave me that extra point and now I'm saving it to cash in later. I remember that quite clearly. Or how the secretary will probably enforce my payback because she thinks I am rather adorable and whatnot. I also remember how to shut off the copier in the office and know that I will be able to recall that piece of information until the day I die.

Otherwise, I'm completely over it. And I have new stuff. And fudge.

SA

WNBP: I Object!!

Hello, Wednesday! You certainly did come quickly this week, didn't you? That's the nice thing about a holiday weekend. Just when you start getting used to the week, it's almost over! Let's take a look at this Wednesday's bullet points.

*I had a 1:00 meeting this afternoon.

*One of my teaching assistants went home sick.

*Leaving the Cheerful Teaching Assistant to man the fort alone while I went to my meeting.

*I wasn't supposed to be there for long. It was a simple guest appearance. That was it.

*Promises were made.

*I arrived at the meeting to find an attorney in attendance.

*While I wasn't even close to being a participant in this meeting and only there for form's sake, you can't walk out when the lawyers are on the guest list.

*They don't call my teaching assistant "cheerful" for nuthin'. She's a trouper, that one.

*Lawyers are hired to do a job. I like lawyers. They help us.

*I have nothing whatsoever against lawyers.

*It's important to have people who help us interpret the law and to advocate for those who need it.

*This was not a pleasant meeting. I did not know this was going to be the situation.

*The words, "Let me rephrase the question" were used.

*None of us knew there was going to be a lawyer there. We didn't think to bring one of our own. You don't normally need to do that in the course of a normal day.

*I did not like this particular lawyer.

*I kept wanting to shout out, "I object!!"

*But I'm pretty sure that I can't do that.

*I think you need a license to object with any real authority.

*Or be in a courtroom...

*I did not knit today.

*I know that you probably didn't need to know that but I have a rule around this.

*Knitting Blog=Knitting Reference. At least one. Every post.

*It's a rule. So I do it. Even if it's only to say that I didn't knit.

*I don't want to be in contempt of my own blogging court.

*The CTA did not have a very pleasant time while I was in my meeting.

*Still cheerful. It's amazing.

*But it was a limp kind of cheerful. I rescheduled my Friday meeting so she wouldn't be stuck alone again. It was the least I could do.

*The other teaching assistant was sent home by the nurse. Possible flu.

*I bleached her desk.

*Twice.

*Gonna do it again tomorrow.

*I'm torn between hoping she is back tomorrow and praying that she keeps her germs home for one more day.

*Tough call.

*I pulled a neck muscle last night.

*Sleeping. That is just embarrassing.

*And now I can't look to the left.

*Fellow commuters, please take note. Approach from the right. It's for your own good.

*A stiff neck is bad.

*Only having to do cardio today and being able to skip the weights is good.

*I kind of hope that I hurt it again tonight while I'm snoozing.

*Except for the pain part.

*Another tough call...

*The lawyer in my meeting was sitting on my left.

*Eye contact was difficult.

*I don't know if that was a problem since I couldn't really see the reaction.

*My director was on my right and I could see her just fine.

*She looked a little bit sick to her stomach...

*Understandable.

So that was Wednesday. I miss the days when I spent my mid-week at the farmer's market instead of in meetings and worrying about my teaching assistant or wondering what was going on to my left. But the meeting/worrying/wondering thing is a paying gig so I guess I'll just have to keep my chin up for the time being.

Or not. That kind of hurts my neck. Maybe I'll just keep my head down and file a motion for a continuance until everything settles down...

SA

Granting Balance

Anyone who has worked in a non-profit capacity knows all about grants. Grants are free money. All you need to do is have an idea, explain it to the satisfaction of those who have dollars to give and do so more quickly and loudly than all the other people who have also had an idea. Suddenly, you have the means to make your concept a reality! Or you don't. Sometimes it doesn't work out. But that's how you play the game and losing is just a part of it.

My school district loves grants. We often have workshops in how to write bigger and better grants. Grants grease the wheels of learning in my world. We revere the grant writing process and have no qualms whatsoever about writing them for the least little thing.

Sometimes, though, an idea slips through that is just too stupid for words. That or it is so brilliant that I'm a little jealous for not thinking of it myself.

Last spring a real hum-dinger of a grant made it through the gauntlet and monies were released unto us for a rather "interesting" experiment. We were all informed of this miracle in a staff meeting and told to expect a large delivery the next day. Sure enough, the big trucks came and many boxes were dropped off in the lobby. What was in those boxes you ask? Well...let me tell you:

Large, bouncy balls. Lots of them.

You know the kind I mean. They're the really big ones that you find in gyms or the living rooms of certain Sheep who are trying to lose their summer pounds. Sometimes they are called "exercise balls." They are big. They are blue. And now they are all over my school.

With health and fitness becoming more of an issue for young people, one of our teachers decided to try writing a grant which would allow her students to sit on big bouncy balls instead of chairs. Staff could also access these magical spheres should they so desire. The exercise ball has long been used to help strengthen core muscles and even sitting on one is enough to provide a bit more calorie burn. The theory here is sound. And, since there were to be clear classroom rules around their use, I actually think it's a pretty cool idea.

Further, anyone who has worked with younger children who have motor control and distraction issues will probably be familiar with "the wiggle seat." This is a small inflatable disc that goes on the student's chair and which is weighted rather oddly. The child is kept just slightly off-balance and the excess motor movements normally used for fidgeting are channeled towards sitting. It works brilliantly and most kids love them.

With the older kids, I see great potential for the bouncy balls in classrooms. Better focus...an increase in core muscle use...it's all good.

Except that now you never know when you are going to turn a corner and find a staff person on a bouncy ball. There is just something about that sight, especially if you are unprepared for it, that seems a little "off." You think you'd get used to it. That you will somehow be better prepared for it after a while.

It doesn't work that way.

To make matters worse, not everyone is necessarily of an age where this sort of thing looks dignified. There are some for whom balance is not a gift and who will need to work a little harder to remain safely centered on their bouncy ball. This can be particularly disturbing if you don't know that they are sitting on a bouncy ball because they happen to be behind a desk.

Take for example a certain teacher we all know. She may go into the Principal's office to discuss with him a rather serious matter and they may be very much engrossed in the details of this troubling situation. Suddenly and without any warning whatsoever, the principal might begin frantically bouncing up and down and rubbery squeaking noises might begin emanating from beneath his desk. There may also be a bit of arm waving involved because middle aged men should really practice sitting on bouncy balls before they try to do it in public or in front of their staff. I might also suggest that a look of panic will cross his countenance as he realizes that he may soon be unseated and that his bouncy ball may roll away.

This, of course, will be too much for the teacher. She will bury her face in her hands and say softly, "I'm sorry. I just can't do this. It's too much..."

Some grants should be written with care and the consequences more carefully considered. If every time someone goes into an office to speak of serious matters there is a big rubber ball involved, the whole educational machine could grind to a halt. Quickly. And with a great deal of squeaking. Education as we know it could become a highly endangered animal and we'll have no one to blame but bouncy balls and grants. And poorly coordinated school administrators.

I'm giving some thought to knitting again someday soon. Maybe even in the near future. It would be nice to return to the blog theme for a bit. But for now, I'm just going to take a minute to recover from the grant writing.

Is it wrong for me to want one of those bouncy balls for my own office?

SA

Is It Really So Wrong?

As you will probably remember, it was only a couple short weeks ago that the temperature in my living room soared into the nineties. We had a seven day stretch (give or take) of this and it came with a side of unbearable humidity. I'd like to say that I bore up well under this trial by fire and that I presented myself with a gentle dignity so as not to burden others with my suffering.

I know very well that I did not.

I was fussy and grumpy while the heat wave rolled across the state. I drank vast amounts of root beer, burped lustily and wore garments highly unsuitable for a lady of my advanced years. I lolled about on the couch for hours at a time and pointed out to anyone who asked that this was perfectly acceptable given the state of the weather, adding more of the lusty burps for good measure. I cursed the very atmosphere and used real curse words to do it. Not the poetic kind. The truck driver kind. This always adds a certain touch of style to a sweaty, root beer swilling, middle aged woman lolling on the couch in a sweaty tank top, don't you think?

This sort of weather always generates the same conversation when people gather in groups. Inevitably, someone will ask the question: Would you rather be too hot or too cold?

Everyone will then chime in with their favorite form of misery and defend their decision with great fervor. Some think that it is better to be too hot because winter is coming and we should appreciate warmth while we have it. Some would rather be too cold because it is such a simple thing to just throw on a sweater and we are knitters, are we not? I tend to sit outside these conversations. My opinion isn't usually helpful since everyone is taking sides on the weather issue. I can't help to settle any ties on this one. When it comes to extremes, I don't feel like I should have to choose.

I'd rather be comfortable.

I know. I'm no fun. Everyone else is playing the game and I have to go and ruin it by being selfish. I'd hate me too if I weren't so busy trying to find the right climate for myself.

I say all this because I think it will help to clear up some confusion. Surely there will be those who will wonder how I could still be unhappy now that the heat wave has passed. Others, of course, have realized by now that I am a fussy creature at heart and have learned to just nod and smile while I rant. I rant a lot. I am easily driven to rant-state. I am highly rantable.

I do not think it is unreasonable to keep the windows open in early September. In fact, given the recent heat wave, I think it is prudent because you never know when the sun will suddenly decide to turn on us again. Hence, I am somewhat miffed by the fact that the temperatures dropped into the forties last night and that the situation in the living room was venturing towards "arctic" when I got up this morning. (forgetting to turn off the fan in the window was probably a judgement error on my part, but I don't want to talk about that...) I think it is kind of mean of Weather to play such a cruel trick, especially when I have made my position on comfort quite clear.

I stayed chilly for most of the day. During the family cook-out at Mommy and Daddy Sheep's house this afternoon, I bundled myself into a heavy sweatshirt and gave some serious thought to sticking my steak in my pocket to try and get my core temperature back up. (I didn't do that. I just thought about it.) I cursed myself for wearing sandals and kept getting distracted by thoughts of what little body heat I had left oozing out between my toes. Fortunately, the food was amazing so I was able to keep up my strength, but it was a near thing. Why, I barely made it through to dessert and I would have just kicked myself had I frozen to death before getting chocolate cake!

You'd think this sudden turn in temperature would inspire me to knit in defense. I should probably be feeling the need to start cranking out various woolly body coverings before it's too late. But I'm not. I've barely picked up the sticks since the start of school.

Mostly I'm just inspired to huddle. I'm still drinking the root beer and there is an equal amount of lusty burping going on, but at least I'm doing it while decently covered and not in a sweaty tank top. I suppose that is an improvement. However, I still find the whole thing incredibly unfair and I am writing a letter to whomever is in charge of Weather to voice my complaints. It will be a strongly worded letter and I will get to it just as soon as my fingers thaw out enough to type.

It would probably help if I remembered to close the windows. I still haven't done that. But I don't want to get out from under the blanket just yet...

SA

Summer vs Weekend

Whoops! I lost you there for a couple of days. That wasn't really my intention. I honestly planned on dropping a line somewhere between Thursday and Friday but somehow both of those days slipped by without my remembering that the blog might need some attention.

What can I say? Maybe I was just so overwhelmed by the thought of a four day weekend that I lost all sense of how things should be. It was rather nice of my school district to decide that a two day week was enough of an orientation for the kids. Having yesterday off and knowing that this would be the state of affairs until Tuesday morning was nothing short of a delightful.

It's not like summer vacation, though. During the summer, I tend to think of the weekends as the time when everyone else is home instead of being at work. While it's nice to have a bit of company while I'm out and about, I usually consider it something of a waiting period. I just sit tight until everyone is out of my way so I can move about more freely. It takes a while for me to get past that, I guess. Soon I'll get used to being just a regular weekend person and grateful for the two days where I'm not expected to be at work. That's the way things are supposed to be anyway, right?

Meanwhile, I have not exactly used these weekend days to my advantage. I'm still kind of programmed to wait for everyone to move aside. I haven't knit much of anything since the summer began grinding to an end, nor have I returned to the spinning wheel for more than a minute or so. The carpets still need to be vacuumed and it occurred to me an hour ago that I somehow have to make bread happen before lunch at my parent's tomorrow. If I don't get my act together sometime soon, there will be no lunches for next week, no breakfasts for eating on the commute and I'll be going to work in my pajamas. I've been sitting on the couch in my usual weekend holding pattern and nothing seems to motivate me to land somewhere productive.

It's a long weekend, though. I have time to convince myself that I'm no longer one of the special weekday people and that my summer privileges have been suspended until next June. I'm sure I'll put it together eventually and get back into the swing of the schedule which defines me most of the year.

Meanwhile, the tasks keep piling up. None of them are crucial in the grand scheme of things, but I can't help noticing them. Even if I don't seem all that motivated to do anything about them. For example, someone within my current field of vision is in dire need of a belly brushing. Dire.

I'm not naming names, but it rhymes with Wig Wuffy Witty...

I'm certain that, given the state of her belly right now, she is probably grateful for my lack of motivation. But if she lolls there for much longer, I'm not going to be able to avoid it. Whether it's a summer vacation or simply a plain ol' weekend, some bellies just need to be brushed.

SA

The Back To School WNBP

It's hard to believe that a week ago I was writing a Summer Vacation Wednesday Night Bullet Post. Where did it all go? When did those lazy, hazy days slip away?

Oh yeah...that would be yesterday. I remember now.

But a Wednesday is still a Wednesday and that means it is time for the weekly bullet points. If nothing else, getting out of the house to spend time with teenagers is good for a few pithy observations. Here's this week's dose of random:

*I think I've got my morning routine down pat, even after a summer of not having a morning routine.

*It's the evening routine I can't seem to get a handle on. I forget things like putting the coffee on, laying out clothing that is school-friendly or making my lunch.

*This is screwing up an otherwise orderly morning routine.

*Yesterday we had workshops for the adults. Today we had actual students upon whom we could inflict our enthusiasm for education.

*"Inflict" is not an overstatement.

*At least that's what the kids told me.

*As far as First Days go, it was pretty quiet.

*But it isn't a First Day until a 7th grader panics and pukes under a teacher's desk.

*Not mine.

*I don't allow the kids in my office.

*It wasn't the one that belongs to The Teaching Assistant That Came Back From Last Year Just To Torture Me. I could have found some humor in that.

*It was The Cheerful Teaching Assistant's desk. The one who came back to me after a year away and who I missed more than words can begin to express.

*I cleaned it up before she got back from her lunch.

*She has a sensitive nose. Had she gotten a whiff, I would have had lots more tummy tumbles to mop up.

*The Teaching Assistant Who Came Back had hidden the bleach wipes on me.

*She'd probably describe it as "putting away the things certain teachers leave all over the place."

*It's a matter of perspective...

*I hurt my back picking up a pencil today.

*That is a bad sign. I should probably just put in for Workman's Compensation and stay on the couch until retirement.

*I was wiped out when I got home. And my back hurt.

*I did not work out. I am too old to work out.

*I hurt myself lifting a small piece of wood. I shouldn't be doing much of anything, really.

*I should probably spend some time on that sock, though. If I'm not going to work out, I should at least knit.

*The teaching schedule is really different from the summer schedule.

*You may hate your kid's teacher.

*You may even have good reason to hate her. She may be the worst teacher in the world.

*But you have to admire her bladder control. Give her that.

*I miss going to the bathroom when it is time to go.

*Now I go when there is time to go.

*There is a subtle difference between those two statements.

*But it is a significant one.

*On the first day of school, the buses are always wicked screwed up. If something goes wrong with the afternoon routes for the older kids, the little ones don't get dropped off until after dark.

*This causes great angst among the parents.

*The little kids don't care because they have gone to sleep by then.

*But it's bad. So we have early dismissals for the first two days of school to allow for any errors and still get the kindergartners home before breakfast.

*Today's dismissal began at 12:40.

*Tomorrow we will dismiss at 1:30.

*I have Friday off.

*I have Monday off.

*Daddy Sheep refers to this Back-To-School Schedule as "The soft start."

*I tell you this because I think that full disclosure is important.

* I still want lots of sympathy for having to go back to school. I hate being back at school because I am not the type who fears I will become bored upon retirement.

*I feel very strongly that I will handle retirement like a champ. I'm already really good at it.

*But I think it is only fair that you be given the opportunity to keep my sympathy rations in perspective.

*Two short days with kids and a four day weekend.

*You'd have figured it out at some point and I didn't want anyone to be caught by surprise.

*Or hate me for both whining and deceiving you.

*The AGK was in full Needy Mode this morning and the dollar store cat cave was required in order that he be distracted enough to let me out the door.

*But he was much better when I got home today. There was none of the pouting we saw yesterday.

*I think we are going to be OK with the new routine.

*That or he is planning some horrible revenge for my daring to have a life outside of the house...

Happy Wednesday, Folks. Hope yours was a good one. While I do miss the summer vacation days and the restful feeling that comes from being a lady of leisure, I can't help but think that a little structure will be a good thing for all of us.

Except for the vomiting part. I could probably do without that being a regularly scheduled event...

SA

Crime And Punishment

I forgot to set the alarm last night. I'd spent the better part of the day planning for how best to tackle this morning's schedule. One does not want to be late on the first day of school, after all. Even if it is just workshops all day, it is still considered poor form. I must have double checked that alarm clock fifty times yesterday in preparation...but I still didn't get around to setting it.

Fortunately, I have a back up alarm clock. You probably wouldn't be all that shocked to learn that I've had issues with alarm setting in the past. I'm that kind of person. Plus it was fifty degrees last night and the inside temps never made it past 62. I was up early anyway because of the imminent frostbite. It all worked out and I was ready to go by 7:00. I get to go in an hour later than usual on workshop days so I had plenty of time to pull myself together. I even thought to tuck some knitting into my bag so that I could get a few rounds of sock done during the endless meetings. Alarm clock issues aside, I wasn't really worried about me...

The Big, Fluffy Kitty and I have been hanging out since the spring of 2000. We have an understanding regarding the school schedule. She knows I'll come back eventually. I can put on my coat and walk through the front door and she will barely blink. She has faith in me. Against all odds and after a rather rocky start in life, she still trusts the human race implicitly.

Grumpy countenance aside, she is the sweetest animal to ever walk the planet.

I wasn't worried about me. I wasn't worried about the BFK. But I was worried. Because there is one more resident here at the manse who has more in the way of abandonment issues. We call him the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty:

And he has correspondingly gi-normous abandonment issues.

It wasn't always like this. When he first came to live with me last summer, he was sort of like a polite house guest. He lived in the moment and enjoyed life when life gave him good things. He wasn't much for contact, but he'd wander by for a pat on the head every now and again. Mostly he was just a big goofball who simply wanted to make the most of a good situation while it lasted. In his world, I would imagine, the good times weren't a permanent state of affairs.

With time, though, he started to catch on to the fact that he was one of us. He seemed to come to terms with his new situation and allowed himself to connect a bit more. He didn't give his heart easily. But when he did...

He did it big. Gi-normously so.

Gone was his devil-may-care attitude and "seize the day" philosophy. He planted his absurdly gi-normous self by my side and no force on earth would move him. He lost his ability to tolerate the rest of the human race as well. Should anyone else come into the house, he now panics and flees the scene lest he be cat-napped. He has actually hurt me in these escape attempts. I'm not talking "oh-my-the-cat-has-scratched-me-would-you-get-me-a-bandage?" He has left bruises.

For the bulk of the last school year, I had to distract him with a toy before I could get out the door for work. Otherwise, he would block my path or try to follow me. I had to move quickly before he realized what was going on. It took great planning on my part to make certain that everything was ready to go before I broke out the dollar store cat cave he so loves.

Having been home for two months and enjoying my summer vacation, the schedule lightened up a bit. The AGK didn't have to worry every time I moved towards the door and he visibly relaxed. I found I was able to leave the house for short periods without having to go through the whole distraction routine.

But vacation is now over. I have to go to work. Every day. Without fail. Except for sick days and holidays and those don't come around as often as the working kinds of days. He is not going to like this.

I'm pretty sure that he didn't figure it out today. I guess he thought I was going to the grocery store or something. I exited the manse without incident. He probably figured it out sometime around noon or so and I can tell he isn't happy about this state of affairs.

When I got home this afternoon, he met me at the door as usual. Satisfied that I was in for the day, he then proceeded to storm off to the bedroom and didn't speak to me for two hours. There was no AGK at my feet, standing up using my knee for support or chattering happily while I checked my email.

In short, the cat was ticked off. For hours.

We are fine now. Everything is back to normal and my right foot is asleep thanks to the absurdly gi-normous weight resting upon it. I have been forgiven and all is right with the world.

Is there anyone out there who would like to volunteer to tell him that I have to go back tomorrow? And the day after that? And the day after that? I'd appreciate it.

Because I'm not saying a word.

SA

The Final Review

It's funny. Last year my school got out much earlier than most did. While everyone else used up all their snow days and then some, we got away with implementing "delayed starts" and had days to spare once spring rolled around. In addition, we didn't go back until after Labor Day so it ended up being one of the longest summer vacations I've ever had.

Oddly, I didn't really enjoy it like I should have. I found myself worried about not using my days well or running out of time. I ended up feeling anxious about not savoring my summer instead of just shutting up and savoring it. I think this might have had something to do with the upcoming job change and my knowing that The Bad Job At The Middle School That No One Else Would Take was looming.

This year was different. We were slammed with snow days, the first few coming in succession as an ice storm had taken out the power to the whole area. This was before the Christmas bells even began tolling and it got worse from there. We had to go well beyond our scheduled closing date in order to make up our days. Even the ones we'd built into the system were not enough to sustain us. With Labor Day coming later this year, we are going back early. It is a short summer this time around.

In spite of that, I really did get into the spirit of this summer vacation. I honestly can't recall the last time I left the classroom behind me on the last day and let all that school stuff go without a second thought. It was a tough year, but I didn't reflect on it once. I simply summered.

But all good things must come to an end and summer vacations are no exception. This one is done. Some things just have to be set free. Like moths that flutter in through the tear the AGK made in the screen, summer is better off for being sent on its way before it eats more of the socks. I don't know why I felt that was an apt comparison, but I'm sticking with it. It's theme-based and that somehow makes it seem OK.

So here it is... the final review of Summer Vacation '09. As I do every year, I made out the Index Cards Of Summer Organization well in advance so as to have some kind of structure during this time of leisure. (Otherwise I tend to lie around demanding that someone feed me grapes then getting cranky when no one does so) Rather than listing all the things I wanted to get done then trying to come up with creative excuses for not doing them all, this year I decided to simply give myself a few categories with which to work and then jot down what I did that fit. We don't need a complete run-down, but here are a few of the things that I thought might be worthy of the jotting:

Stupid Medical Stuff: Before the first week of vacation was done, I'd managed to get to both the doctor and the dentist. Getting that sort of thing out of the way is a coup and don't try to tell me different. A+! (I put off the visit to the optometrist and the whole bifocal thing, but we don't need to discuss that...)

Summer Of Compensatory Knitting Socialization (S.O.C.K.S): Every summer, I vow to travel down to The Yarn Sellar and knit with others in order that I might relearn all those social skills I let lapse during the winter months as I knit alone. This year's score? That would be an F. A big one. I have no excuse other than pure laziness on my part. It was just too easy to make excuses for not finding my shoes every time Tuesday rolled around. And every Wednesday, I regretted it. I always enjoy spending time with the other knitters and I don't know why I couldn't find it in myself to do a better job of it this year.

Visiting With The Vegetables: The first day of vacation was a Wednesday, I think. If not, it was the second. Either way, it poured. But I still went to the Farmer's Market and bought fresh produce just like I said I would. I missed two trips this summer. Once because I had an appointment with the eye doctor and the other because I was without transportation. Otherwise, I went faithfully every Wednesday and may even be dating The Produce Guy With The Little Stand Down At The End. Or not...it's hard to tell, but we sure do have good banter. The only reason I'm giving myself a B+ instead of an A is because I didn't always manage to eat what I bought. But still...

Playing With The Wool: I did pretty well there, too. While I didn't finish "The Dishcloth" (with sleeves) as I said I would, I did crank out good deal more of the knitted stuff than last summer. I even wrote it down on the appropriate index card. They were, in no particular order: The Socks I Started When There Was Snow On The Ground, A pair of Bripples, 2 Octagonal Swirl cloths, 1 Nubbins cloth, 1 crocheted cloth, 1 Grandmother's Favorite cloth, 1 Doily cloth, 2 Darryl Waltrip cloths and the Rose Trellis Scarf. I started an Invisibility Shawl and have a pair of ribbed ankle socks fairly close to the finish line.

Spinning didn't go quite as well as I'd hoped. I finished up some merino and a few small blended batts but that was about it.

However, in light of last year's poor showing with spindles and needles, I still feel like I deserve an A for effort, if nothing else. I can afford to be generous with me.

I also did a lot of reading, cooking and napping. I managed to tidy up the bedroom a bit and get rid of a bit of the clutter in there. There was some champion lolling about while watching TV and I don't think you will find two other cats in the world so well-snuggled as mine. The blogging suffered a bit and I finally had to throw in the towel on the nightly posting, but I really do think that was for the best. The time had come for me to take a step back for a while and the restful days of summer seemed like as good a time as any.

All in all, I had a wonderful summer vacation. And I don't think I've ever been sorrier to see one end. But ending it is. Tomorrow, I will hoist myself out of bed (literally since I'm still trying to deal with all that summer resting and noshing weight), put my coffee in a travel mug and point the car south. I will then sit through a day of teacher workshops in preparation for the arrival of students on Wednesday. It's over whether I'm ready or not.

I've been trying to explain this situation to the cats for the better part of two days now. Today I was especially blunt about the matter and did everything in my power to get them to understand that tomorrow will not involve the same degree of snuggling they've enjoyed for the past two months.

There was little in the way of of response.

I doubt that anyone even heard me.

This is going to be a rude awakening tomorrow morning, I fear. There will be a great deal of confusion and probably more in the way of hurt feelings than I like to see. Tomorrow evening promises to be filled with recriminations and the need for me to repeat everything I've been saying to cats who can't be bothered to listen. I suppose I could have been more forceful about it, perhaps tried harder to wake them up...

In my defense, though...could you?

SA

Summer '09 Philosophy

Tomorrow will be a busy day here at the manse. I don't have to go to school, but I do have to do all those things I said I would do this summer and failed to find all that important until the last second. It will be a mad rush for about an hour and then I will give up and just sit back to enjoy those last few seconds of freedom. I also need to go register my car because that is one of those things I put off and it's kind of important. At least to those people who think I should be current on all the appropriate taxes...

As I reflect back on this year's summer break, I can't help but acknowledge the appalling number of losses we experienced. It felt as if every time I turned around there was another breaking news story about someone who passed away and whose life was somehow notable. Of course, I knew none of them what with my being a very busy individual with no time for hobnobbing amongst the stars. But I still sort of took it personally. I now feel an overwhelming urge to purchase any and all products every hawked by pitchman Billy Mays as if that will somehow make up for my not doing so when he told me to...

Last night, I found myself particularly moved while watching the interment of Senator Kennedy. I set aside that sock I so desperately want past the heel point so I'll have some mindless knitting for Tuesday's teacher workshops in order that I might watch without distraction. I'm not normally one for televised funerals. But, for some reason, I was transfixed.

I commented on this to the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty. He was the only other one awake and since he was right there on my foot, he seemed like the obvious choice as a pondering partner. He had little to offer in the way of insight, but I found him to be a pretty good listener while I ran through the possible reasons for my rapt attention during the ceremony.

Maybe it was the soft Irish lilt of the priest. Or maybe it was the way the darkness gathered, making the Eternal Flame more prominent. It could have been the sight of the military pall bearers and the dignity with which such people always seem to carry themselves during these events. The speakers were certainly moving and they could have been the cause of my unusual attention level. Maybe it was the fact that, for once, we were seeing the life of a Kennedy played out to the end rather than cut brutally short.

It could also be the fact that I have reached an age where I actually recognize some of the players. When someone of a certain vintage passes, it is no longer "just some old dude." Instead it is someone whose life, while not ever intersecting mine, ran parallel to it and was a part of my view for as long as I can remember. I suppose that, if I were being totally honest, there was a great deal of that going on. For my entire life, there has always been a Ted Kennedy. I cannot picture the senate without him in it.

Maybe it was just a moving service, nothing more nothing less.

In the end, the cat and I didn't really come up with much more than that. The AGK isn't much of a philosopher and I can only deep-think for two for so long before I peter out. Finally, I hoisted the big guy up on my lap, dug deep for what I knew about the Kennedy family and said,

"Well...I imagine there is a hell of a football game going on in heaven right now."

SA

Living In The Fishbowl

It should not have come as a great shock when I got a sore throat yesterday. I should have seen that one coming. The signs were all in place and I was a fool for ignoring them.

To say that this last week of summer vacation did not go as planned would be like saying that Hollywood has a little bit of silicon floating around. Understatement. Of epic and D cup proportions.

However, I have decided to see this as a sign that it is time to go back to work. Sure, I may have to go back to The Bad Job At The Middle School That No One Else Would Take And For Very Good Reason. But it is steady work and gives my day a little bit of structure. I suppose it's time for that after my two months of leisure.

But the summer isn't over until I have rehashed it to death and what else is a blog for if not the rehashing? I've already covered the sinus issues, so now let's discuss my eyeballs, why don't we?

I've been putting off getting an eye exam for a while. I knew that I needed new glasses. The ones I'd been wearing for four years had been through the wringer. Most of the anti-reflective coating had flaked off down the center of the lenses, causing my students to ask me if I ever cleaned my glasses or if I was just too blind to see those big smears. I also knew that the time had come for me to make the move into bifocals and I really didn't want to hear that.

It's not about getting older. I wore bifocals when I was twelve so I have had some practice with this. Besides, you're only as old as you feel, right? And, these days, I feel about 80 so bifocals seem rather appropriate. I just knew that they were going to be pricey and I hate spending money on practical stuff like my vision.

But then I started getting headaches and it was becoming harder and harder to go from looking at my knitting to looking at the TV. When the knitting and the TV watching start to suffer, I don't mess around. I take action.

Hence, Summer '09 ushered in the changing of the guard as far as my lens prescription went. A couple of people have asked how I was doing with the Progressives, so I figured I'd add that to the vacation wrap-up series.

In short, they aren't bad. I was far less of a big, fat whiny baby about this than I was the neti pot referenced in the last post. Although how I could have been more of a big, fat whiny baby, I have no idea...

Today's frames are tricky when it comes to bifocals. They are rectangular and there isn't much space for adding a second seeing-space. You don't get much of a transition between the two. But I think I've finally managed to find the "sweet spot" required for things like walking across a room or navigating a supermarket without careening into other shoppers and artfully arranged fruit pyramids. I'm still better off in my own living room than anywhere else, but I do have to leave the house from time to time for supplies so I deal.

What I haven't completely gotten past is the Funhouse Effect. Should I dare to turn my head quickly from side to side, perhaps to catch a glimpse of a cat who isn't supposed to be on the counter or to confirm that the sign really does advertise a yarn sale, the world suddenly begins rocking. It's like looking through a fishbowl. Except there are no fish. Just lots of people looking at me strangely because apparently I have a tendency to shout, "Whoa!" when this phenomenon occurs.

If I had a horse, this would be easier to explain. But I don't. I also think that, if I did have a horse, I would probably have bigger issues since this would now involve explaining why I brought him into the grocery store. I am pretty sure that this isn't allowed what with all the carrots being left out and all...

It's gotten better with time, though. I almost never find myself trying to stabilize against the rolling that only I can see. And, when it does happen, I'm a bit more prepared for it. All in all, I think I will be OK with my bifocals. I suppose that, when I write my What I Did Over Summer Vacation essay, it won't be the most exciting read. But at least I'll be able to see what I'm writing.

I can also knit and look up at the TV now. Which is really all that matters, right? Sure, it's great to be able to see where I'm driving. And I suppose that it will be better for the students in my class now that I can read their assignments or observe what is going on in the back of the room that they don't want me to see but which I probably should be aware of.

But it's really all about the knitting and TV.

SA

Drowning The Genie

It's the end of summer vacation and a good time to reflect back on all that was. In this installment, I shall talk about my sinus cavities. They were very influential. They defined me for a good part of the past two months.

I have been having off and on again sinus problems for a while now. It's nothing serious. It's just uncomfortable. For some reason, the problems seemed worse than usual this summer. I imagine that the weather, which ranged from very low to very high pressure systems, might have had something to do with this. There were points where even looking down to check the knitting progress was just short of being actually painful.

I didn't mention it much, though. I knew that if I said the wrong thing to the wrong person, they were going to make the suggestion. I did not want to hear the suggestion. I dreaded the suggestion. But I knew I'd get it. My doctor had already made the suggestion.

My doctor is not what you'd call an earthy-crunchy-let's-chant-and -steam-some-herbs-and-you'll-feel-better-in-no-time sort of physician. She's pretty traditional. So if she is saying that it might be time to consider the neti pot, then you know it's not anything too crazy. That or she is just so sick of hearing my whining that she'll resort to anything in order to shut me up.

In the end, we decided that it was probably not the best idea. This conclusion was not based on any medical reason. Instead, it was more about my somewhat over the top, childish and not exactly subtle reaction to the very thought.

I objected to the idea for several reasons. Among them were the fact that it is disgusting, I had reasonable concerns about whether or not I'd be dribbling water down my throat or getting it in my ear canal, it is disgusting, I was already using saline sprays and (as I may have mentioned) it is disgusting.

Also, the pot looks like Aladdin's lamp and I was afraid of drowning the genie. Then I couldn't wish for healthier sinuses.

However, the situation deteriorated enough this summer that I was past caring about such things as disgust and lifeless, floating genies. I broke down and got the pot. I have two renditions of this event, both of which I will share with you now. The first is what I like to call The Big, Fat Baby Who Overreacts To Everything And Couldn't Stop Whining If You Muzzled Her version:

OH MY GOD!!!! Neti Pot???? Do you realize what they want me to do??? I have to stick a stupid teapot up my nose and dump water in it until it comes out the other freakin' side!!! Yeah. That's right. It's a head enema. A headema!!!!! Oh, this is just great. I particularly like the part where you hold your head wrong and it comes out your stupid eyeballs!!! Or how no one tells you how to breathe and you just have to figure that out for yourself before you drown right in your own stupid bathroom. That'll look good on the 6:00 news. My mother will be so proud...

Then, once you've survived the horror and are thanking any and all deities who may or may not have had a hand in your living through this nightmare, you have to do the OTHER FREAKIN' SIDE!!!!!!!!

If there were any doubts in any minds at this point, let me clarify things for you. Water boarding is, in fact, torture. There is now no question about it and I don't want any further discussion on the matter. I will personally go testify before any committee that wants me. I will demonstrate if that's what they want.

Oh, and by the way. In case you were wondering. I've read that stupid pamphlet fifty times now and I still can't find anything in there about what to do if you happen to have an Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty in the sink. Not a word about AGKs who love running water in all forms and do not care if it happens to be snot water dribbling out of mommy's face. No. They don't mention that at all. He sees the whole thing as a marvelous parlor trick performed just for his entertainment and nothing will stand between him and the process. Not even a closed door. I should probably write to the company about that and see what they say. I'll bet they don't have a plan for that, those big, stupid neti pot torture executives.

This is a nightmare of epic proportions and everyone involved is a big ol' jerk for making me do this. But I shouldn't be worried because, apparently, I will "just get used to it." Isn't that nice?

Now, let's take a look at the Grown Up Making The Best Of A Bad Situation And Who Will Be Mature About This version of the same distasteful event:

Well, it's not ever going to be the greatest part of my day, nor should anyone be looking to me as the new poster child for Nasal Irrigation. However, it is possible to get past the worst of it and practice really does help. Some days you get it right, some days you get it wrong. That's the way it goes. While I don't see myself ever "getting used to it," I have to admit that using the neti pot has worked wonders for my sinuses. I don't think I am exaggerating when I say that I am breathing more clearly than I have in years. It's been a couple of weeks now and, so far, there have been no ill effects and I guess the practice is something I can live with. I am a fan of breathing so that should help to motivate me in getting past the Ick Factor.

Also, if I remember to feed the cats before doing the whole neti thing there is far less chance of any AGKs breaking down the door because the sound of running water is too much for him to resist. Usually. Sometimes there is nothing to be done for it. Maybe I can train him as an assistant or something. He could be my Neti Towel Boy...

I'd like to think that I'm being mature about this overall. The reality is that I'm probably alternating between the two extremes most of the time. But I can breathe and when I look down to find that stupid dropped stitch or to figure out where I missed a yarnover, it doesn't feel like my sinuses are going to explode out of my head. This is bad for the knitting. It's very bad. Worse than a dropped stitch, I should think.

But I still feel kind of guilty about that poor genie...

SA

Dodging Bullets

Well, here we are. It's the half-way mark in the last week of summer vacation. This is the week that I feel like I have to try and get done everything that I meant to do this summer but never got around to getting to doing. Or not doing. Like that light bulb in the hallway that burned out back in April...

It is also the day of the Wednesday Night Bullet Post so I'll just review this bittersweet time in the customary shorthand format:

*I was grounded today. There is a great deal of stupidity going on around here right now.

*Great, vast waves of stupidity. The kind that gets in the way of my really enjoying this last week of summer vacation.

*The worst kind of stupidity is your own.

*My current life circumstances are of my own making. There is no one to blame. Nary a soul.

*I miss blaming. I'd cut off my right arm to have someone to blame for this mess.

*In the "here and now" there is nothing to do about it, though.

*In the short term, I can fix this.

*In the long term, there will probably be repercussions but I'm not a fan of those so I'm going to be optimistic about the whole thing.

*I had to stay home today. Not by choice.

*I missed the last chance to go to the farmer's market this summer.

*Maybe I'll break down and go on Saturday with the rest of the people just to say I made it.

*By the weekend, I'll have reached The Short Term Solution stage of this week's festivities and will be able to do the things I wanted to be doing for the past three days.

*Tonight's dinner: fried rice made with the sad veggie leftovers from farmer's markets past.

*I didn't have any soy sauce.

*That's OK. I had ketchup.

*The entire Asian community weeps for me tonight.

*I'm getting my hair cut on Saturday.

*I'll not be telling The World's Greatest Stylist And Life Coach about the ketchup.

*She likes me, but I don't know if she will completely approve of this condiment-related insult to her culture.

*I love ketchup. Without it, I'd probably have starved as a child.

*Anyone who tells me that I am wasting my time with the Panda Cam can just kiss my patootie.

I am most certainly NOT wasting my time.

Not one hour of the many I've spent waiting for baby panda to wave to me has been wasted

*I'll fight ya. I seriously will. I defend my panda time to the death!!!!!

*Here's a question: How am I going to tell the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty that I am going back to school next week?

He has no idea.

Nary a clue. He is oblivious to the coming abandonment.

*I've been busy dealing with the stupidity this week and haven't had much time to spend discussing the matter with him.

*He is not going to like this. It is going to be high drama.

*In the year that this cat has lived with me, he has gone from a relaxed, but a little standoffish beast to a needy, clingy feline who can't bear the thought of my leaving the house.

*He's been known to panic when I go to the bathroom.

*Now I have to announce it when I feel nature's call.

*Next week is going to be rough on the poor lad.

*It will probably be equally difficult for his big sister who will have to keep him entertained whilst I am off earning a living.

*She hates him and all he stands for.

*He loves her. And me.

*And hates everyone else...

*I made yarn.

*I still call it yarn even if it is not what one might call, "lovely of ply."

*Poorly plied.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Even after all these years, I remain utterly transfixed by the making of yarn in my own home.

*This was a batt sent to me by the unbelievably talented Susie.

*I am equally transfixed by the fact that I know someone who can dye like this.

*Me. Knows a person who can make even my poorly plied yarn look beautiful. Me...

*Anything I do with Perchance To Knit fibers always looks good.

*It's magic, I think.

*Since I was grounded yesterday too, I couldn't go to visit with the other knitters at the Yarn Sellar.

*This was sad on many levels. But mostly because I missed Patti's birthday party.

*Happy Birthday, Patti! Thanks for your wonderful shop where happy knitting memories abound and for being such an all-around amazing person!

That's it for tonight, my darling dears. I must go see about putting some stinky fishy foods into the bellies of some very "present" kitties. One of them happens to be sitting on my foot and clawing up the couch. Maybe my going back to work is not such a bad thing. It'll be a break from my own stupidity and my foot has been asleep since I came home from school back in June.

The couch is beyond hope so it doesn't care.

SA

Just Wonderful

I really hate putting off that first visit back to the classroom in August. It's one of those things I dread, but I want to get it done so that I can enjoy the last week of summer vacation. It doesn't always work out that way. Sometimes I procrastinate. Shocking, I know...

In general, though, I really do make an effort to get the room set up before it feels like I'm under pressure to do so. My plan this summer was to spend a morning or two at school during the second-to-last week of break then pretend that I didn't have to go back at all for the rest of my life. This was a very good plan, if I do say so myself.

The weather didn't think so, though. Last week was hot, muggy and unbearable. The very idea of being in my third floor classroom while the temperatures soared to the top of the thermometer was something I couldn't bear to contemplate. I decided to stay home and go in first thing Monday morning. No doubt about it. That was the plan.

Except that I didn't. In my defense, the weather was still a tad muggy this morning and a check of the forecast predicted better conditions tomorrow. It made sense to put it off for one more day. At least in my own mind. For a while.

I wavered a bit. There was a certain familiar ring in all this, the chiming of every task I've ever not done because there was a "better" opportunity for completing it in the future. So I thought about it a bit. I even put on shoes just in case I decided to take the high road.

I did not take that road. It was a near thing. I had to really exert some thinkin' muscles to come up with another excuse. I did pretty well, though. I'm on day two with the new glasses and still not used to the delightful fishbowl effect of the bifocal lenses. Nor have I figured out where one might place one's eyeballs in order to look down whilst walking. This is a necessary skill here at the manse where Absurdly Gi-normous Kitties roam free like the buffalo and live for opportunities to entwine around moving feet. Another day to get used to this visual funhouse before highway driving would be the best thing I could do for the community.

I'm all about the community. I live for the opportunity to do good deeds for the populace. It's just who I am...

I'll go tomorrow. I have to. This is a task that needs to be done and I'll feel all the better for just getting it over with. In the meantime, I soothed my guilty conscience by finishing up the plying on some wool that's been on the wheel since before forever. Karma and the rules of a just universe paid me back for my sitting at home when I should be at school; the final result was not my best work, I'm afraid. But poorly plied yarn is still finished yarn and at least I can add something else to the Finished Column for summer vacation '09. I'll see about putting up a picture once it's finished drying.

Yes, it's the last week of school vacation and the set up of the classroom is yet to be finished. The need to do it looms over me like a dark cloud. With any luck, I'll get my mojo working bright and early tomorrow so I can get it over with. If not, there is one more little incentive floating around these days that might just do the trick. Staying home means that the TV is on. There is no avoiding the need to start getting my act together as long as I'm staring at the glowing box of entertainment.

This commercial? It haunts me...

SA