Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Batboy
Not the kind you see at a baseball game retrieving Louisville Sluggers or game balls.
Other Jim brought home a bat from The-Place-Where-He-Works Mart. He caught it in a cup, stashed it in his car, and brought it into THE HOUSE. A LIVE BAT. The kind that sucks blood and turns into vampires!
Yes, I got pictures.
Other Jim transferred it from the cup to a little mesh container that Hayley and Matt have used to collect bugs. The pictures aren't great, but I was NOT going to let the bat out of its temporary cage in the house just to get a few good pictures. I don't trust bats. They're cute and all, but I just don't trust them ever since one whacked me good on the head in Wind Cave. Plus there's the whole rabies thing. Not my cup 0' hot chocolate.
The body was perhaps two to three inches long. I petted his belly through the mesh and he didn't seem to mind. Other Jim and Matt felt his toenails that were protruding through the mesh.
Then we let him go outside. I got a blurry picture of him skimming the sidewalk in front of our house.
Then he flew off into the wild pitch black yonder to commune with his own kind and debrief regarding his covert mission into the house of the humans for reconnaissance. The bats must be preparing for an invasion of a bloodthirsty kind.
His visit was an omen.
Halloween is coming soon.
Other Jim brought home a bat from The-Place-Where-He-Works Mart. He caught it in a cup, stashed it in his car, and brought it into THE HOUSE. A LIVE BAT. The kind that sucks blood and turns into vampires!
Yes, I got pictures.
Other Jim transferred it from the cup to a little mesh container that Hayley and Matt have used to collect bugs. The pictures aren't great, but I was NOT going to let the bat out of its temporary cage in the house just to get a few good pictures. I don't trust bats. They're cute and all, but I just don't trust them ever since one whacked me good on the head in Wind Cave. Plus there's the whole rabies thing. Not my cup 0' hot chocolate.
The body was perhaps two to three inches long. I petted his belly through the mesh and he didn't seem to mind. Other Jim and Matt felt his toenails that were protruding through the mesh.
Then we let him go outside. I got a blurry picture of him skimming the sidewalk in front of our house.
Then he flew off into the wild pitch black yonder to commune with his own kind and debrief regarding his covert mission into the house of the humans for reconnaissance. The bats must be preparing for an invasion of a bloodthirsty kind.
His visit was an omen.
Halloween is coming soon.
A rose is red
A Violet is cute
First the blessing,
then time for to shoot.
Bad poetry, how I love thee!
This baby is so even-tempered! She didn't cry at all during her blessing.
Vi and Grandma
Mike wanted to get at least one shooting session in while we were there. He patiently showed Hayley and Matt how to shoot a pellet gun. An orange juice carton served as a target and both kids hit the target a couple of times.
Hayley discovered that she has to shoot left-handed because it's hard to close her left eye to use her right eye to get the sights lined up. Get that? Neither did I. Anyway, she has an easier time shooting left-handed. Even though she does everything else right-handed.
Matt's arms aren't quite long enough. This does not bode well for trombone playing. Oh well. He did hit the target. It looks like he is crying in this picture, but let me assure you that he is not. He just has his face mooshed up against the stock.
My turn. I took three shots and hit the target all three times. Yes, I am awesome.
Jim gets to shoot the big-boy way, without using the patio post as a stabilizer.
If you want to see nice family pictures, visit the hawleyfocus, where Jen has posted some pictures that she took of the blessing day.
First the blessing,
then time for to shoot.
Bad poetry, how I love thee!
This baby is so even-tempered! She didn't cry at all during her blessing.
Vi and Grandma
Mike wanted to get at least one shooting session in while we were there. He patiently showed Hayley and Matt how to shoot a pellet gun. An orange juice carton served as a target and both kids hit the target a couple of times.
Hayley discovered that she has to shoot left-handed because it's hard to close her left eye to use her right eye to get the sights lined up. Get that? Neither did I. Anyway, she has an easier time shooting left-handed. Even though she does everything else right-handed.
Matt's arms aren't quite long enough. This does not bode well for trombone playing. Oh well. He did hit the target. It looks like he is crying in this picture, but let me assure you that he is not. He just has his face mooshed up against the stock.
My turn. I took three shots and hit the target all three times. Yes, I am awesome.
Jim gets to shoot the big-boy way, without using the patio post as a stabilizer.
If you want to see nice family pictures, visit the hawleyfocus, where Jen has posted some pictures that she took of the blessing day.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Temporary cheesehead
So I'm in Wisconsin today and tomorrow with Jim, Hayley and Matt and Mom. I wanted to meet Violet (new niece) so we arranged to come out for her blessing at church.
Violet is so very nibble-able! And such a sweet little girl!n Her eyes are open wide in the attitude of permanent surprise most of the time. And she has the funniest little cowlicks right on her prominent widow's peak. She has smiled a couple of times and fell asleep once while we watched.
Right now we are getting ready to roast marshmallows for s'mores so I'm not going to make this long. In fact, this is as much as I'm going to post, especially because there is a baby to be held!
Violet is so very nibble-able! And such a sweet little girl!n Her eyes are open wide in the attitude of permanent surprise most of the time. And she has the funniest little cowlicks right on her prominent widow's peak. She has smiled a couple of times and fell asleep once while we watched.
Right now we are getting ready to roast marshmallows for s'mores so I'm not going to make this long. In fact, this is as much as I'm going to post, especially because there is a baby to be held!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
The CranRaspberry Juice Incident
First of all, let me tell a story about the Lemonade Incident that happened just a few short months ago. Hayley and Matt had a lemonade stand one day. While filling up a glass pitcher, which had a nozzle for juice dispensing action, (and can you see where I'm going with this, the pitcher being GLASS?) Hayley somehow jostled it or knocked it or something while it was FULL of sugary sweet lemonade and popped a hole in the glass pitcher low enough to effect a full-scale lemonadey deluge in the kitchen. I happened to be writing a talk I was going to give at church at the time and was somewhat stressed out even before the juice made its way to the floor (and subsequently THROUGH the floor to the bathroom below as well). So when the breakage occurred, Jim, ever considerate of my fragile state during talk-writing times, helped Hayley clean up the mess.
Today was my turn, only with CranRaspberry juice.
I was driving home from taking Paul to an ortho appointment. I had Fake Child with me in the car. She was begging to go to the park and I was on the brink of giving in. But I explained that I had to go home to see if everything was all right before we went to the park. Not that I had a nagging feeling about imminent disaster, I just needed to give FC an excuse so I could go home first and grab a book before heading out to the park. Hayley was the only one home at the time, and I didn't think she would be in need of me.
I was wrong.
I opened the door and heard whimpering and sniffling. There she was on the floor with a single paper towel trying to mop up several acres of red juice. Now I had CranRaspberry juice on hand because Hayley is suffering from a cold and juice tastes better than water when one has a cold. I didn't get out the exact events that led up to the, well, what looked to be a veritable explosion--there were red dots ALL. OVER. THE KITCHEN. AND THE DINING ROOM. (You can tell I'm serious because of the number of periods I've inserted randomly into the previous sentence) Hayley was too distressed for coherent explanation. But I didn't really need to know WHY the juice was all over the place, we just needed to clean it up.
And there she was with a single sheet of paper towel. I sighed, and told her to get real towels.
Now, I'm not supposed to complain, right? No one likes a complainer or a whiner. So we'll get right to the FORTUNATELYs
Fortunately, all our towels are mere months from being rags, so sopping up red juice with "the good towels" is not an issue.
Fortunately, I was not in the middle of something (like writing a talk, or something equally mind and time consuming). I had just gotten home and my only plans were to go to the park.
Fortunately, Hayley didn't have anywhere to go either.
Fortunately, I was given the opportunity to quiet the voices in my head that have been reminding me that there are places in the kitchen that are NOT clean, like under the stove, behind the stove, both sides of the stove and the cabinet sides of the stove. It was gross, and now it is not anymore. The juice had pooled underneath the stove prior to making the final waterfall descent into the basement bathroom (where I have not yet ventured--I need a bit of a breather) so it necessitated the moving of the stove, which...
Fortunately, I am capable of doing. (Unfortunately, I am NOT capable of moving the fridge. That will have to wait until the Muscle gets home)
Fortunately, I was not in a mood to get all angry and start shouting. I just told Hayley what needed to be done, how to do it, and dug in.
Fortunately, I was able to joke around. I mentioned to her, "This is what happens when you don't do your sweeping job every morning." She got a puzzled look on her face, paused, then said, "Oh, I thought you were saying something REASONABLE."
Fortunately, Hayley is old enough to recognize when she is responsible for something and she starts right in to make it better. She didn't complain ONCE about having to clean or it taking to long or why do I have to clean things that aren't directly affected by the juice (she had to mop the WHOLE dining room floor, not just the half that was covered by red dots).
Fortunately, it took long enough so now I don't have to go to the park.
Today was my turn, only with CranRaspberry juice.
I was driving home from taking Paul to an ortho appointment. I had Fake Child with me in the car. She was begging to go to the park and I was on the brink of giving in. But I explained that I had to go home to see if everything was all right before we went to the park. Not that I had a nagging feeling about imminent disaster, I just needed to give FC an excuse so I could go home first and grab a book before heading out to the park. Hayley was the only one home at the time, and I didn't think she would be in need of me.
I was wrong.
I opened the door and heard whimpering and sniffling. There she was on the floor with a single paper towel trying to mop up several acres of red juice. Now I had CranRaspberry juice on hand because Hayley is suffering from a cold and juice tastes better than water when one has a cold. I didn't get out the exact events that led up to the, well, what looked to be a veritable explosion--there were red dots ALL. OVER. THE KITCHEN. AND THE DINING ROOM. (You can tell I'm serious because of the number of periods I've inserted randomly into the previous sentence) Hayley was too distressed for coherent explanation. But I didn't really need to know WHY the juice was all over the place, we just needed to clean it up.
And there she was with a single sheet of paper towel. I sighed, and told her to get real towels.
Now, I'm not supposed to complain, right? No one likes a complainer or a whiner. So we'll get right to the FORTUNATELYs
Fortunately, all our towels are mere months from being rags, so sopping up red juice with "the good towels" is not an issue.
Fortunately, I was not in the middle of something (like writing a talk, or something equally mind and time consuming). I had just gotten home and my only plans were to go to the park.
Fortunately, Hayley didn't have anywhere to go either.
Fortunately, I was given the opportunity to quiet the voices in my head that have been reminding me that there are places in the kitchen that are NOT clean, like under the stove, behind the stove, both sides of the stove and the cabinet sides of the stove. It was gross, and now it is not anymore. The juice had pooled underneath the stove prior to making the final waterfall descent into the basement bathroom (where I have not yet ventured--I need a bit of a breather) so it necessitated the moving of the stove, which...
Fortunately, I am capable of doing. (Unfortunately, I am NOT capable of moving the fridge. That will have to wait until the Muscle gets home)
Fortunately, I was not in a mood to get all angry and start shouting. I just told Hayley what needed to be done, how to do it, and dug in.
Fortunately, I was able to joke around. I mentioned to her, "This is what happens when you don't do your sweeping job every morning." She got a puzzled look on her face, paused, then said, "Oh, I thought you were saying something REASONABLE."
Fortunately, Hayley is old enough to recognize when she is responsible for something and she starts right in to make it better. She didn't complain ONCE about having to clean or it taking to long or why do I have to clean things that aren't directly affected by the juice (she had to mop the WHOLE dining room floor, not just the half that was covered by red dots).
Fortunately, it took long enough so now I don't have to go to the park.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
A week???
Ten things I did or someone else did that I didn't post about for a whole week.
1. Jim stained the deck--a two day process.
2. Paul ran a personal best at the Lakeville CC meet. He was 5th in on the team--it was a FAST race. Top runner came in under 16 minutes.
3. Wrangled Mom for a few hours post-surgery. The woman will not sit still. Mike, I know where you got your not-sitting-still from. Honestly! "No, we will not be going to the thrift store half an hour after you were discharged from surgery, Mother!" We did stop by the arboretum apple store, though. PS--she's fine.
4. Thought about renting a car for my upcoming trip to CA for my grandmother's 90th birthday. Postponed any action on the thought until later.
5. Saw Sr. Beck speak at a fireside and a training meeting on Saturday (I sat from 3 til 7:30 in the same chair). Learned that all you need to know to be fluent in Spanish is "Hola. Mucho gusto" and kissing Spanish women on the left cheek. "The rest is sign language" she said. Despite the urging she gave us not to pile the guilt on, still went home with a pile of guilt on. Loved her story about visiting teaching.
6. Learned that taking a break from responsibility after a CC pasta dinner isn't all it's cracked up to be. Got a bit cranky.
7. Finished Lost Symbol. I'll have to read that one again. I kind of enjoy his philosophizing. The hand thing though--YUCK.
8. Banged my head against the wall regarding lack of communication. Am trying not to think of all the ways I could do other people's jobs better.
9. Rubbed my eyes too much last night and now they are all puffy and weepy.
10. Am thoroughly enjoying a British TV show--sort of a period piece soap opera called Berkeley Square. I watch it while exercising on the stationary bike. But I hear it's only 9 episodes and doesn't have much of a resolution. Frowny face!
Hey, want to see a few pictures of Katie? She emailed me some of herself posing in her unfinished Halloween costume and she said I could post them.
Very nice, yes? She's sewing a Renaissance dress for Halloween. She says everyone is dressing up on Halloween at her office. She's borrowing a friend's sewing machine because the one I brought out for her to use is DEAD. Sigh. So much for trying to help a girl out.
1. Jim stained the deck--a two day process.
2. Paul ran a personal best at the Lakeville CC meet. He was 5th in on the team--it was a FAST race. Top runner came in under 16 minutes.
3. Wrangled Mom for a few hours post-surgery. The woman will not sit still. Mike, I know where you got your not-sitting-still from. Honestly! "No, we will not be going to the thrift store half an hour after you were discharged from surgery, Mother!" We did stop by the arboretum apple store, though. PS--she's fine.
4. Thought about renting a car for my upcoming trip to CA for my grandmother's 90th birthday. Postponed any action on the thought until later.
5. Saw Sr. Beck speak at a fireside and a training meeting on Saturday (I sat from 3 til 7:30 in the same chair). Learned that all you need to know to be fluent in Spanish is "Hola. Mucho gusto" and kissing Spanish women on the left cheek. "The rest is sign language" she said. Despite the urging she gave us not to pile the guilt on, still went home with a pile of guilt on. Loved her story about visiting teaching.
6. Learned that taking a break from responsibility after a CC pasta dinner isn't all it's cracked up to be. Got a bit cranky.
7. Finished Lost Symbol. I'll have to read that one again. I kind of enjoy his philosophizing. The hand thing though--YUCK.
8. Banged my head against the wall regarding lack of communication. Am trying not to think of all the ways I could do other people's jobs better.
9. Rubbed my eyes too much last night and now they are all puffy and weepy.
10. Am thoroughly enjoying a British TV show--sort of a period piece soap opera called Berkeley Square. I watch it while exercising on the stationary bike. But I hear it's only 9 episodes and doesn't have much of a resolution. Frowny face!
Hey, want to see a few pictures of Katie? She emailed me some of herself posing in her unfinished Halloween costume and she said I could post them.
Very nice, yes? She's sewing a Renaissance dress for Halloween. She says everyone is dressing up on Halloween at her office. She's borrowing a friend's sewing machine because the one I brought out for her to use is DEAD. Sigh. So much for trying to help a girl out.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Zen and the art of pasta dinner maintenance
Well, THAT went well!
I floated through the pasta dinner on fluffy white clouds of easiness and danced through glittery rainbows of I-can-handle-this.
What made this dinner so easy compared to the last one? Two things: other people and Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol. Five other families signed up to contribute to the food so there was no underabundance and frantic casting about for spaghetti sauce. I prepped for the lasagna yesterday by grating cheese and browning the meat. Early this afternoon I made the four lasagnas and then after I washed the dishes necessary for the lasagna prep, I filled two pots with water and sat them on the stove, ready at a moment's notice (or 4:30 p.m.) to boil for spaghetti noodles. I heated up spaghetti sauce in the crock pot (on the deck--no sense in heating up the house more than I had already). Then I sat for 15 minutes to read The Lost Symbol. After 15 minutes, I cleaned for half an hour. Then I read for another 15 minutes. Then I cleaned for half an hour. Et cetera (until 4:30 when I had to heat up the water and finalize the food placement on the table prior to kids showing up). Alternating some relaxing reading in with specific amounts of time cleaning helped keep my head from detaching and rolling off to parts unknown.
And so the house was as clean as I wanted it to be and the food was ready to go when Paul texted me that they were on their way. I had five helpers (Jim, Liz, Linda, Mrs. Brian's-mom-whose-name-I-have-forgotten, and Mr. Brian's-dad-whose-name-I-think-might-be-Mike). Mr and Mrs. Brian's-parents brought chairs and tables and the evening was so perfect weatherwise that all the kids ate outside!
I was so glad to have prepared better this time because then I was kind of excited to see the stampede of 30 hungry runners. They are a good group of teenagers. I thoroughly enjoyed standing on the fringes of 10 conversations occurring concurrently. It was like the bubbling of a vigorous stream that I could dip my fingers into and let it wash over me and I didn't have to dive in to enjoy its refreshing and rushing energy.
The parents who helped all agreed that it went well and that if I was willing to be the host again next year, they would be here to help. I don't mind having it here as it gives me the motivation to clean the house.
And I get the leftovers.
P.S. I found out why Paul didn't want to host a pasta dinner--because he was afraid I'd flip out again. *Ashamed sigh* This year went so well that he said that he would be happy to have it here again next year.
I floated through the pasta dinner on fluffy white clouds of easiness and danced through glittery rainbows of I-can-handle-this.
What made this dinner so easy compared to the last one? Two things: other people and Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol. Five other families signed up to contribute to the food so there was no underabundance and frantic casting about for spaghetti sauce. I prepped for the lasagna yesterday by grating cheese and browning the meat. Early this afternoon I made the four lasagnas and then after I washed the dishes necessary for the lasagna prep, I filled two pots with water and sat them on the stove, ready at a moment's notice (or 4:30 p.m.) to boil for spaghetti noodles. I heated up spaghetti sauce in the crock pot (on the deck--no sense in heating up the house more than I had already). Then I sat for 15 minutes to read The Lost Symbol. After 15 minutes, I cleaned for half an hour. Then I read for another 15 minutes. Then I cleaned for half an hour. Et cetera (until 4:30 when I had to heat up the water and finalize the food placement on the table prior to kids showing up). Alternating some relaxing reading in with specific amounts of time cleaning helped keep my head from detaching and rolling off to parts unknown.
And so the house was as clean as I wanted it to be and the food was ready to go when Paul texted me that they were on their way. I had five helpers (Jim, Liz, Linda, Mrs. Brian's-mom-whose-name-I-have-forgotten, and Mr. Brian's-dad-whose-name-I-think-might-be-Mike). Mr and Mrs. Brian's-parents brought chairs and tables and the evening was so perfect weatherwise that all the kids ate outside!
I was so glad to have prepared better this time because then I was kind of excited to see the stampede of 30 hungry runners. They are a good group of teenagers. I thoroughly enjoyed standing on the fringes of 10 conversations occurring concurrently. It was like the bubbling of a vigorous stream that I could dip my fingers into and let it wash over me and I didn't have to dive in to enjoy its refreshing and rushing energy.
The parents who helped all agreed that it went well and that if I was willing to be the host again next year, they would be here to help. I don't mind having it here as it gives me the motivation to clean the house.
And I get the leftovers.
P.S. I found out why Paul didn't want to host a pasta dinner--because he was afraid I'd flip out again. *Ashamed sigh* This year went so well that he said that he would be happy to have it here again next year.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
The Lasagna days and selective amnesia
Nearly a year ago, we hosted a pasta dinner for the high school cross country team. When sign-ups rolled around for this year's pasta dinners, I signed right up. Paul initially said that he'd rather not host a pasta dinner, but I wore him down finally and made him come to terms with it. He never did say why he was loathe to have everyone over.
So tomorrow is the day that I signed up to host the dinner. I've been busy grating cheese, browning mild Italian sausage for four pans' worth of lasagna. And just for a lark, I thought I'd look up last year's post about our first turn as CC parents hosting a dinner.
Apparently I forgot that my head nearly imploded because of things that did not go right. I totally blanked on how they came early and the house was still a mess, and the lasagna wasn't cooked all the way through, and I had no bread, and the salad came REALLY late, and we didn't have enough food so I had to have Jim run to the store for more spaghetti sauce and I was boiling up spaghetti noodles not quite fast enough to feed the runners and we had NO DESSERT.
I am so MAD at my brain right now for repressing those memories and allowing me to sign up to be a host this year!!
MUST CALM DOWN.
*deep breath*
Ten notes to self:
1. Don't listen to brain ever again when it assures you that something will be fun.
2. This year, there is no children's choir to go to right afterward and Other Jim can drive himself to work.
3. I have no less than 5 other dinner contributors and I am pretty sure we will have plenty of food. The mom in charge of beverages just dropped off milk. So we're set there.
4. Someone is even bringing extra chairs!
5. The kids will still be early, but they can play bocce ball or horseshoes while we wait for the food to arrive from the contributors (my food will hopefully be done by 4:30).
6. Take deep breaths all day long.
7. Picture-taking opportunities!
8. It was fun last year, actually. I even said so in my post from last year.
9. Cross country meet the next day and I can go!
10. You CAN do this.
So tomorrow is the day that I signed up to host the dinner. I've been busy grating cheese, browning mild Italian sausage for four pans' worth of lasagna. And just for a lark, I thought I'd look up last year's post about our first turn as CC parents hosting a dinner.
Apparently I forgot that my head nearly imploded because of things that did not go right. I totally blanked on how they came early and the house was still a mess, and the lasagna wasn't cooked all the way through, and I had no bread, and the salad came REALLY late, and we didn't have enough food so I had to have Jim run to the store for more spaghetti sauce and I was boiling up spaghetti noodles not quite fast enough to feed the runners and we had NO DESSERT.
I am so MAD at my brain right now for repressing those memories and allowing me to sign up to be a host this year!!
MUST CALM DOWN.
*deep breath*
Ten notes to self:
1. Don't listen to brain ever again when it assures you that something will be fun.
2. This year, there is no children's choir to go to right afterward and Other Jim can drive himself to work.
3. I have no less than 5 other dinner contributors and I am pretty sure we will have plenty of food. The mom in charge of beverages just dropped off milk. So we're set there.
4. Someone is even bringing extra chairs!
5. The kids will still be early, but they can play bocce ball or horseshoes while we wait for the food to arrive from the contributors (my food will hopefully be done by 4:30).
6. Take deep breaths all day long.
7. Picture-taking opportunities!
8. It was fun last year, actually. I even said so in my post from last year.
9. Cross country meet the next day and I can go!
10. You CAN do this.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Free cleaning
I get my basement bathroom cleaned today for free and without complaint!
Matt missed the bus this morning and he knows the rules--if I have to drive anything (homework, lunch, child who missed the bus) to school because someone wasn't prepared or wasn't watching the clock, I charge $5 for the drive over. He apologized and immediately asked "What jobs should I do when I get home from school?" I didn't yell (I did when certain older children were younger and I had to haul the younger children--who were even younger--out of bed and affix them into various car seats, younger children who didn't WANT to be hauled out of bed and strapped in. Am I ashamed of yelling? Maybe a little, but if I hadn't, certain older children would not have believed that they needed to be more responsible. Matt needs no yelling from me to realize that he had dropped his own ball of responsibility), I just said that he could clean the downstairs bathroom as payment.
I almost wish the kids would miss the bus more often. The kitchen sink needs deodorizing and the garbage cans need scrubbing.
Matt missed the bus this morning and he knows the rules--if I have to drive anything (homework, lunch, child who missed the bus) to school because someone wasn't prepared or wasn't watching the clock, I charge $5 for the drive over. He apologized and immediately asked "What jobs should I do when I get home from school?" I didn't yell (I did when certain older children were younger and I had to haul the younger children--who were even younger--out of bed and affix them into various car seats, younger children who didn't WANT to be hauled out of bed and strapped in. Am I ashamed of yelling? Maybe a little, but if I hadn't, certain older children would not have believed that they needed to be more responsible. Matt needs no yelling from me to realize that he had dropped his own ball of responsibility), I just said that he could clean the downstairs bathroom as payment.
I almost wish the kids would miss the bus more often. The kitchen sink needs deodorizing and the garbage cans need scrubbing.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Current frustration
OK, not that current. I was frustrated yesterday. And the frustration wore me out to the extent that I was too tired to blog about it yesterday.
And the task that caused me so much frustration was not really even my task to do.
It's all Jim's fault.
First of all, he went on a church mission to Argentina when he was 19 (ok, that part is not frustrating. I'm glad he went and I'm glad I didn't know him then so that the pain of waiting for him to come back was no pain at all. Besides, I was only in 8th grade. I was ogling geeky high school freshmen and TV hunks like Magnum PI. 19-year-old Californians weren't on my radar) Secondly, this was back in the very early 80s when digital camera technology hadn't yet swept picture-taking film into the dusty corner of antiquity. Thirdly, he took pictures with that film. Fourthly, he had the film developed into SLIDES. Slides!
Fast forward many years later to a couple of Saturdays ago when we cleaned out the garage. We threw a lot of stuff out, but one box remained un-throw-out-able. Jim's mission slides. He said, "I need to take these into some photo place and get these things converted to digital pictures." I agreed, secretly thinking, "Sigh. He'll do that about the same time that we get a new deck door--never."
Then my dad posted this on his blog. I got all excited. If you care to look, you will see that I posted a comment (and I note with irony that I said, "I love technology!") asking about this gizmo someone had and loaned to Dad that scanned slides and converted them to digital picture files.
So Dad asked the owner if we could borrow it and the guy said yes. I picked it up from Dad (along with a delicious pile of honey scones--them was good eats!) and brought it home for Jim to load his mission slides onto the computer.
And then the trouble started. Our computer would not talk to the machinery. We tried to reload the software to clear up the miscommunications, but to no avail. Three days later, we gave up after much head-scratching, googling, searching, attempting, and wailing and gnashing of teeth.
I asked Dad if perhaps I could come over and use his computer, which had no problems talking to the slide-scanning thing (see how the job of digitizing has now become not Jim's job but mine? Not that I'm complaining...oh, wait. Yes I am). Dad said that was fine and I went over yesterday to do it.
Dad got it all set up (thanks, Dad!) and the second hurdle presented itself. It took a while for me to familiarize myself with the process of scanning slides. The software interface program was difficult for me to wrap my brain around. I eventually got it, but not after several turns unplugging the converter, exiting out of the program, and venting smoke out of my ears. But I finally got it.
And I scanned a whole tray of slides--about 80 total. I had four more trays to load. But I thought I would try to save the ones I had scanned to my flash drive. So I clicked on various links and squares and sat back to watch the scanned pictures load. Only nine made it. Out of 80. A. R. G. H.
I had to rescan the tray. This time, I saved in batches of four to eight pictures at a time. It was a very time consuming process (much like reading this post?). Every so often, some picture would goof up the process, and I would have to rescan a couple slides here and there.
Then my flash drive announced that it was full and could hold no more pictures. I had done only 2 1/2 trays of slides. FORTUNATELY, I brought a second drive.
That drive filled up a tray later. I still had a tray and a half to go. I had been there over three hours. I commenced banging my head on Dad's desk. Thankfully, Sharon had pestered me to eat something a little while earlier, and I finally gave in to an apple*. That apple probably prevented me from having a full-blown meltdown involving little model Swissair planes being used to puncture 440 mission slides from Argentina (and a few slides of a night-time Giants baseball game) individually and with extreme displeasure. I left a tray and a half of slides (and my sunglasses) at Dad's and went home, stopping only at Great Harvest Bread Co. to grab a free sample of spinach/feta bread heavily slathered with butter because I NEEDED BREAD to dull the sharp pain of a slide-induced headache.
Then when I got home, I loaded the pictures onto my computer--which took FOR. EVER.--and they turn out to be .tiff files, NOT .JPEGS! BLEAGH!
All that trouble so I could show you a couple of these (keep in mind that in order to post these here, I had to resize, and convert from .tiff to .jpeg. You're welcome):
(Yes that's his room that he shared with several other missionaries. Yes, those are bare cement walls and yes, that is a bare Christmas-type bulb hanging near his head. And yes, he is smiling.
Jim was considered one of the tall ones in Argentina.
He is standing in a street. Little muddy, don't you think? That is what they had to walk/drive on. And Jim said that they had to walk down that street at night too. Aren't his boots stylin'?
Jim, you owe me big time. I get an hour long deep tissue massage in the neck and shoulder region. Unless you think that posting these pictures on my blog without your permission is payment enough. And in that case, I'm going to bed on MY bed. You get the couch.
And thank you Dad for scanning the rest of the slides to a cd for me. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You saved me from another brow-furrowing exercise in frustration.
*That was a GOOD apple, both taste and in curative powers.
And the task that caused me so much frustration was not really even my task to do.
It's all Jim's fault.
First of all, he went on a church mission to Argentina when he was 19 (ok, that part is not frustrating. I'm glad he went and I'm glad I didn't know him then so that the pain of waiting for him to come back was no pain at all. Besides, I was only in 8th grade. I was ogling geeky high school freshmen and TV hunks like Magnum PI. 19-year-old Californians weren't on my radar) Secondly, this was back in the very early 80s when digital camera technology hadn't yet swept picture-taking film into the dusty corner of antiquity. Thirdly, he took pictures with that film. Fourthly, he had the film developed into SLIDES. Slides!
Fast forward many years later to a couple of Saturdays ago when we cleaned out the garage. We threw a lot of stuff out, but one box remained un-throw-out-able. Jim's mission slides. He said, "I need to take these into some photo place and get these things converted to digital pictures." I agreed, secretly thinking, "Sigh. He'll do that about the same time that we get a new deck door--never."
Then my dad posted this on his blog. I got all excited. If you care to look, you will see that I posted a comment (and I note with irony that I said, "I love technology!") asking about this gizmo someone had and loaned to Dad that scanned slides and converted them to digital picture files.
So Dad asked the owner if we could borrow it and the guy said yes. I picked it up from Dad (along with a delicious pile of honey scones--them was good eats!) and brought it home for Jim to load his mission slides onto the computer.
And then the trouble started. Our computer would not talk to the machinery. We tried to reload the software to clear up the miscommunications, but to no avail. Three days later, we gave up after much head-scratching, googling, searching, attempting, and wailing and gnashing of teeth.
I asked Dad if perhaps I could come over and use his computer, which had no problems talking to the slide-scanning thing (see how the job of digitizing has now become not Jim's job but mine? Not that I'm complaining...oh, wait. Yes I am). Dad said that was fine and I went over yesterday to do it.
Dad got it all set up (thanks, Dad!) and the second hurdle presented itself. It took a while for me to familiarize myself with the process of scanning slides. The software interface program was difficult for me to wrap my brain around. I eventually got it, but not after several turns unplugging the converter, exiting out of the program, and venting smoke out of my ears. But I finally got it.
And I scanned a whole tray of slides--about 80 total. I had four more trays to load. But I thought I would try to save the ones I had scanned to my flash drive. So I clicked on various links and squares and sat back to watch the scanned pictures load. Only nine made it. Out of 80. A. R. G. H.
I had to rescan the tray. This time, I saved in batches of four to eight pictures at a time. It was a very time consuming process (much like reading this post?). Every so often, some picture would goof up the process, and I would have to rescan a couple slides here and there.
Then my flash drive announced that it was full and could hold no more pictures. I had done only 2 1/2 trays of slides. FORTUNATELY, I brought a second drive.
That drive filled up a tray later. I still had a tray and a half to go. I had been there over three hours. I commenced banging my head on Dad's desk. Thankfully, Sharon had pestered me to eat something a little while earlier, and I finally gave in to an apple*. That apple probably prevented me from having a full-blown meltdown involving little model Swissair planes being used to puncture 440 mission slides from Argentina (and a few slides of a night-time Giants baseball game) individually and with extreme displeasure. I left a tray and a half of slides (and my sunglasses) at Dad's and went home, stopping only at Great Harvest Bread Co. to grab a free sample of spinach/feta bread heavily slathered with butter because I NEEDED BREAD to dull the sharp pain of a slide-induced headache.
Then when I got home, I loaded the pictures onto my computer--which took FOR. EVER.--and they turn out to be .tiff files, NOT .JPEGS! BLEAGH!
All that trouble so I could show you a couple of these (keep in mind that in order to post these here, I had to resize, and convert from .tiff to .jpeg. You're welcome):
(Yes that's his room that he shared with several other missionaries. Yes, those are bare cement walls and yes, that is a bare Christmas-type bulb hanging near his head. And yes, he is smiling.Jim was considered one of the tall ones in Argentina.
He is standing in a street. Little muddy, don't you think? That is what they had to walk/drive on. And Jim said that they had to walk down that street at night too. Aren't his boots stylin'?
Jim, you owe me big time. I get an hour long deep tissue massage in the neck and shoulder region. Unless you think that posting these pictures on my blog without your permission is payment enough. And in that case, I'm going to bed on MY bed. You get the couch.And thank you Dad for scanning the rest of the slides to a cd for me. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You saved me from another brow-furrowing exercise in frustration.
*That was a GOOD apple, both taste and in curative powers.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Current enjoyment
Riding my stationary bike while watching the last episode of the first season of Pushing Daisies.
Hearing nothing from everybody else.
I hate to admit enjoying others' illnesses, but fake child called in sick today (her mother did the actual calling for her) so I am work-free today (but also money-free. Alas).
Note to self: get fat hands on Pushing Daisies season two. Mourn lack of more Pushing Daisies seasons yet again. Find some other episodic show to watch while racking up the miles on the stationary bike.
Hearing nothing from everybody else.
I hate to admit enjoying others' illnesses, but fake child called in sick today (her mother did the actual calling for her) so I am work-free today (but also money-free. Alas).
Note to self: get fat hands on Pushing Daisies season two. Mourn lack of more Pushing Daisies seasons yet again. Find some other episodic show to watch while racking up the miles on the stationary bike.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
The OLD days
So I'm a college student. I'm a student on my own time and in my own home. Sometimes I think I might have jumped the gun on finishing my degree though. I thought having children in school would give me all kinds of free time in which to do college-type homework. Turns out not so much. Somehow my days fill up and I get distracted. I'm halfway through the time allotted by the college to finish my lowly degree program (8 years, General Studies) and according to my original plan, I should have finished by now. Instead, I'm only halfway through. Sigh. Children continue to be a major TIME SUCK even when they are in school! Who knew? Especially high school students who like to sign up for extra curricular activities (I'm looking at you, Kate. And Paul.) (On the other hand, I've enjoyed spectating at the extracurricular activities so I don't feel too guilty about putting aside my homework for my children)
Anyway, this post isn't so much about venting on my current state of parenting that I thought would be more free (Yeah, somehow I thought teenagers wouldn't require supervision? You need super vision to keep track of those sneaky little buggers. Stay OUT of the chocolate chips! Where are you? When to plan on coming home? Is your homework done? Leave your sister alone! Where are you again? Who are you with? Prove to me that your homework is done! I said quit teasing your sister! No you cannot eat a burrito now because we are about to eat dinner! And don't talk on the phone and drive! Dangit, you are making your sister cry--STOP IT. You want to drive WHERE by yourself to meet up with your friend? Iowa??!!) (uh, I'm digressing again) as it is about one of my classes.
I'm taking a Scottish history/family history research class, which has turned out to be very interesting. I spent 15 hours in the Family History Library when Jim and I went to Utah to visit Katie to help her move (the move only took a few hours). I could have spent hours scrolling through the Rathen Parochial Registers and the Rathen Civil Registers on microfilm for names of ancestors. I'm captivated by the handwriting in these books. Sometime they are hard to read, like the time I thought Peter Masson was Peter Mapan--seriously! Check out this entry! Whoever entered this made twin Ss look like a single P. You can see it on the word "witnesses" too. It looks like "witnipes." (5 points to the person who comes up with the most amusing definition of "witnipes")
(Yes I realize that is how they wrote. They also liked to enter children of unmarried parents as "begat in fornication" too. How would you like that on your birth certificate? In the civil registers those entries were changed to "illegitimate." And 99.9% of the "illegitimate" entries I saw, the mothers were listed as domestic servants. Ladies, this is why I am against having a maid come clean my house)
This is a civil register entry of a brother of one of my direct-line ancestors.
This class requires a 20-hour research project and I could EASILY take twice that for the family members born just in the 1800s. It will be hard to stop doing this project.
College is fun! Even if you have to stop what you are studying occasionally to meddle in your children's lives.
Anyway, this post isn't so much about venting on my current state of parenting that I thought would be more free (Yeah, somehow I thought teenagers wouldn't require supervision? You need super vision to keep track of those sneaky little buggers. Stay OUT of the chocolate chips! Where are you? When to plan on coming home? Is your homework done? Leave your sister alone! Where are you again? Who are you with? Prove to me that your homework is done! I said quit teasing your sister! No you cannot eat a burrito now because we are about to eat dinner! And don't talk on the phone and drive! Dangit, you are making your sister cry--STOP IT. You want to drive WHERE by yourself to meet up with your friend? Iowa??!!) (uh, I'm digressing again) as it is about one of my classes.
I'm taking a Scottish history/family history research class, which has turned out to be very interesting. I spent 15 hours in the Family History Library when Jim and I went to Utah to visit Katie to help her move (the move only took a few hours). I could have spent hours scrolling through the Rathen Parochial Registers and the Rathen Civil Registers on microfilm for names of ancestors. I'm captivated by the handwriting in these books. Sometime they are hard to read, like the time I thought Peter Masson was Peter Mapan--seriously! Check out this entry! Whoever entered this made twin Ss look like a single P. You can see it on the word "witnesses" too. It looks like "witnipes." (5 points to the person who comes up with the most amusing definition of "witnipes")
(Yes I realize that is how they wrote. They also liked to enter children of unmarried parents as "begat in fornication" too. How would you like that on your birth certificate? In the civil registers those entries were changed to "illegitimate." And 99.9% of the "illegitimate" entries I saw, the mothers were listed as domestic servants. Ladies, this is why I am against having a maid come clean my house)This is a civil register entry of a brother of one of my direct-line ancestors.
This class requires a 20-hour research project and I could EASILY take twice that for the family members born just in the 1800s. It will be hard to stop doing this project.
College is fun! Even if you have to stop what you are studying occasionally to meddle in your children's lives.
Monday, September 7, 2009
"Laboring" to think of ten things I will do tomorrow on the first day of school for the kids
1. Jump out out bed and wave vigorously at three of the children as they leave the house. Threaten to follow Hayley to the bus stop with the camera and run away as she takes a swing at me with her backpack. Threaten to photograph the boys as they hop into the Luminosity--Other Jim's car--and watch them roll their eyes because they know I won't follow through.
2. Hop in the Van with No Name (does that count as a name?) to volunteer at the high school passing out schedules. I can rest easy doing this because a) I will have showered and b) my boys have their schedules already.
3. Call home while passing out schedules to make sure that Matt is awake.
4. Call a second time because he sometimes doesn't answer the phone.
5. Call a third time to remind him to brush his teeth.
6. Go home after volunteering to find Matt playing the Wii. Kick him off and bark at him to make sure he has everything. Shoes? Socks? Underwear? Chores done? Hair messed up? Eye-rolling function operational? Voice volume check (and turned all the way up)?
7. Squeeze Matt one more time as he heads out the door and threaten to follow him to the bus stop. See him run REALLY FAST and hear him yell "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
8. Smile at the door.
9. Sit on the couch for 5 hours.
10. Babysit fake child (sigh)
2. Hop in the Van with No Name (does that count as a name?) to volunteer at the high school passing out schedules. I can rest easy doing this because a) I will have showered and b) my boys have their schedules already.
3. Call home while passing out schedules to make sure that Matt is awake.
4. Call a second time because he sometimes doesn't answer the phone.
5. Call a third time to remind him to brush his teeth.
6. Go home after volunteering to find Matt playing the Wii. Kick him off and bark at him to make sure he has everything. Shoes? Socks? Underwear? Chores done? Hair messed up? Eye-rolling function operational? Voice volume check (and turned all the way up)?
7. Squeeze Matt one more time as he heads out the door and threaten to follow him to the bus stop. See him run REALLY FAST and hear him yell "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
8. Smile at the door.
9. Sit on the couch for 5 hours.
10. Babysit fake child (sigh)
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Running in circles
As in two laps around the Rosemount school grounds in a huge pack of boys following a pace cart.
Yes, it's that time of year again, folks. Cross country running for Paul. I loaded up the van with a water bottle, a banana, some off-brand Yogos for Fake Child, Fake Child herself, and set Aunt Roady's sister (who still doesn't have a name. And Aunt Roady has had an "operation" and is now known as Tio Camino--Spanish for Uncle Road. Jim has him/her set to Spanish male voice) with the address for Rosemount high school and headed out to watch Paul run.
He's on the varsity team again this year, just barely squeaking into that 7th slot (he says he ran only as fast as needed to get onto the varsity team--little stinker).
The team engages in a little bit of group hugging right before the race. Mic the Manager smiles happily in the background.
At the starting line...
Paul's first lap.
He's coming "down the chute" (the term for the end of the race, which is usually bounded by rope and flags funneling the runners to the finish line). He's the third Prior Lake boy to finish.
I still can't figure out how he manages to smile after running for 11 minutes straight. I'd be dead on the ground after 1 minute. Or less. And certainly I wouldn't be smiling.
Yes, it's that time of year again, folks. Cross country running for Paul. I loaded up the van with a water bottle, a banana, some off-brand Yogos for Fake Child, Fake Child herself, and set Aunt Roady's sister (who still doesn't have a name. And Aunt Roady has had an "operation" and is now known as Tio Camino--Spanish for Uncle Road. Jim has him/her set to Spanish male voice) with the address for Rosemount high school and headed out to watch Paul run.
He's on the varsity team again this year, just barely squeaking into that 7th slot (he says he ran only as fast as needed to get onto the varsity team--little stinker).
The team engages in a little bit of group hugging right before the race. Mic the Manager smiles happily in the background.
At the starting line...
Paul's first lap.
He's coming "down the chute" (the term for the end of the race, which is usually bounded by rope and flags funneling the runners to the finish line). He's the third Prior Lake boy to finish.
I still can't figure out how he manages to smile after running for 11 minutes straight. I'd be dead on the ground after 1 minute. Or less. And certainly I wouldn't be smiling.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Lickable Wallpaper could be next
Roald Dahl was the JK Rowling of my childhood. His books, particularly Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, and especially James and the Giant Peach, enlarged my taste for fantastical (not necessarily "fantasy") stories. He wrote for the child who knew that bad things sometimes happened to good people (mostly kids) but also believed in the capacity of the child to overcome and create good out of it. And the stories usually came with a dollop of Magic.
I have many fond memories of Mom reading to Jenni and me before bed, and the two of us begging for just one more chapter! Mom, with her musical abilities, was able to infuse Roald Dahl's natural inclination toward rhyme and written song with a lyrical quality that both fit the song in word and theme. I absolutely LOVED the song that Centipede sings about all the food he's eaten in James and the Giant Peach.
Then I grew up and became Aunt Sponge (Mother Sponge?), flabby, pallid, and evil to the core.
No, not really. But I loved the description of Aunt Sponge as a boiled cabbage. I swore I knew JUST WHAT SHE LOOKED LIKE IN REAL LIFE.
What really happened was that Mom gave Hayley a book titled Roald Dahl's Revolting Recipes. Several of his stories featured or even revolved around fantastical food and someone decided to formulate recipes based on Dahl's silly food ideas. Mom saw it somewhere and knew that Hayley had to have it. And Hayley has been begging me for quite a while now to let her make something out of it. The recipe list is quite intriguing, although to my dismay, they don't have a recipe for Square Candies that Look 'Round (which, when I finally "got" this joke from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory I felt quite grown up and in-the-know). There is however, Hot Ice Cream for Cold Days, Mr. Twit's Beard Food, Scrambled Dregs, Bunce's Doughnuts, Eatable Marshmallow Pillows, Boggis's Chicken, Mosquitoes' Toes and Wampfish Roes Most Delicately Fried, along with many other "delectables."
Hayley wanted to make Stickjaw for Talkative Parents (a confection from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), although both she and Matt called it Stickjaw for Talkative Matts. The recipe is essentially a meringue with a caramel center. I separated the egg whites from the yolks and Hayley and Matt did the rest. Hayley was the one who whisked the egg whites into the meringue. I only watched and gave tips. The only problem we encountered was finding the cubic caramels in Target. I had limited time and we didn't find them so we resorted to some little caramel pebbles that we found in the baking aisle. I'm sure they will be sufficient for taste, even if they don't turn out quite as gooey and sticky as the caramel cubes would have been.
Hayley can be quite the pest when it comes to making stuff in the kitchen. She loves to cook but she still requires supervision, and I am not one to drop everything for my children's sakes to supervise. Bad me, I know. But it wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be and I made them clean up. The meringues are in the oven right now and I am keen to taste them, even if I run the risk of having my jaw stick shut.
For those of you who are super-ultra-uber observant, did you notice Hayley's new glasses? They even turn dark outside in the bright sunshine!
PS. How many times did I use the word "quite" in this post?
PPS. The confections are now out of the oven and ready for consuming. Mmmm tasty, although not all that sticky. A little extra chewing is required, however; enough to make it more than just a melt-in-the-mouth mound of meringue.
I want another one.
I have many fond memories of Mom reading to Jenni and me before bed, and the two of us begging for just one more chapter! Mom, with her musical abilities, was able to infuse Roald Dahl's natural inclination toward rhyme and written song with a lyrical quality that both fit the song in word and theme. I absolutely LOVED the song that Centipede sings about all the food he's eaten in James and the Giant Peach.
Then I grew up and became Aunt Sponge (Mother Sponge?), flabby, pallid, and evil to the core.
No, not really. But I loved the description of Aunt Sponge as a boiled cabbage. I swore I knew JUST WHAT SHE LOOKED LIKE IN REAL LIFE.
What really happened was that Mom gave Hayley a book titled Roald Dahl's Revolting Recipes. Several of his stories featured or even revolved around fantastical food and someone decided to formulate recipes based on Dahl's silly food ideas. Mom saw it somewhere and knew that Hayley had to have it. And Hayley has been begging me for quite a while now to let her make something out of it. The recipe list is quite intriguing, although to my dismay, they don't have a recipe for Square Candies that Look 'Round (which, when I finally "got" this joke from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory I felt quite grown up and in-the-know). There is however, Hot Ice Cream for Cold Days, Mr. Twit's Beard Food, Scrambled Dregs, Bunce's Doughnuts, Eatable Marshmallow Pillows, Boggis's Chicken, Mosquitoes' Toes and Wampfish Roes Most Delicately Fried, along with many other "delectables."
Hayley wanted to make Stickjaw for Talkative Parents (a confection from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), although both she and Matt called it Stickjaw for Talkative Matts. The recipe is essentially a meringue with a caramel center. I separated the egg whites from the yolks and Hayley and Matt did the rest. Hayley was the one who whisked the egg whites into the meringue. I only watched and gave tips. The only problem we encountered was finding the cubic caramels in Target. I had limited time and we didn't find them so we resorted to some little caramel pebbles that we found in the baking aisle. I'm sure they will be sufficient for taste, even if they don't turn out quite as gooey and sticky as the caramel cubes would have been.
Hayley can be quite the pest when it comes to making stuff in the kitchen. She loves to cook but she still requires supervision, and I am not one to drop everything for my children's sakes to supervise. Bad me, I know. But it wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be and I made them clean up. The meringues are in the oven right now and I am keen to taste them, even if I run the risk of having my jaw stick shut.
For those of you who are super-ultra-uber observant, did you notice Hayley's new glasses? They even turn dark outside in the bright sunshine!
PS. How many times did I use the word "quite" in this post?
PPS. The confections are now out of the oven and ready for consuming. Mmmm tasty, although not all that sticky. A little extra chewing is required, however; enough to make it more than just a melt-in-the-mouth mound of meringue.
I want another one.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Better late than never
It seems like we are the last school districts on the planet up here in MN to send our kids off to school. I've been so jealous of reading back-to-school stories on others' blogs and seeing kids get on the bus and heading off to school while we were on vacation! I am not afraid to say that I don't miss my children while they are at school. I feel no guilt or shame in saying that I'm GLAD they are going back to school. I like them when they are around me, but they need school and I need for them to be in school.
The kids don't start until next week. But I finally feel that school is near. When we got home from the trip, the mail was heaped neatly on our bed (in piles by day of delivery--thanks, Paul) for us to peruse. Loving mail as much as I do, going through the piles was the first thing on my list of things to do when I got home.
And, oh happiness! we got bundles of school-related missives! Matt got his teacher assignment, and a wad of papers for me to sign to bring to the open house. All the kids got their bus assignments (except Other Jim, who has elected not to receive bus service--I had to not fill out a bus request form for him. If a high schooler does want bus service, you have to fill out a form). Hayley got her invitation to the middle school open house, along with picture forms.
Paul and Other Jim have already had their back-to-school orientation the week before the trip. (I was quite relieved to discover that our trip would not get in the way of any orientations) Matt's orientation is today and Hayley's is tomorrow.
Yay!
The kids don't start until next week. But I finally feel that school is near. When we got home from the trip, the mail was heaped neatly on our bed (in piles by day of delivery--thanks, Paul) for us to peruse. Loving mail as much as I do, going through the piles was the first thing on my list of things to do when I got home.
And, oh happiness! we got bundles of school-related missives! Matt got his teacher assignment, and a wad of papers for me to sign to bring to the open house. All the kids got their bus assignments (except Other Jim, who has elected not to receive bus service--I had to not fill out a bus request form for him. If a high schooler does want bus service, you have to fill out a form). Hayley got her invitation to the middle school open house, along with picture forms.
Paul and Other Jim have already had their back-to-school orientation the week before the trip. (I was quite relieved to discover that our trip would not get in the way of any orientations) Matt's orientation is today and Hayley's is tomorrow.
Yay!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Scrapbook
Boo-hoo! My trip is over! It was wonderful to see Katie, and I'm glad we were able to help her move. Email me if you want her new address.
I now resort to showing you my trip pictures. I have shown you some already, so we pick up the trip on the second day in Utah (I have no idea what day that was. Days don't have names when you are on vacation).
Jim and I went to visit the gravesite of his grandparents. He didn't know exactly where the grave was (he DID know which cemetery, though) and we walked among the gravestones until we found it. I remember Hazel very fondly; she always made me feel welcome and put me at ease right away with her sense of humor. Jim and I visited her a few times while we were still BYU students and then we visited a couple of times after we moved away. The last time was about a week before she passed away. Other Jim (third one after the James Warner on the inscription below) was only about 9 months old at the time.
After the visit, we went to lunch with Katie and then went downtown to the Family History Library where I promptly pulled a muscle scrolling through what seemed like hundreds of film reels of Rathen parish civil registration and old Parochial registers.
The next day, Jim cleaned the car. No more dead bugs!
Art showed us a bullet hole he put in the hood of his car after taking Katie and Jim shooting the day before.
Katie and me on moving day
Her old room after it was emptied of the bed, a desk, and a multitude of other things. Notice that there is still a multitude of even otherer things still there.
Jim and Kate. Notice that Jim is letting a goatee grow. I guess shaving is not a fun vacation event. I don't mind.
Jim and his former babysitter, Aunt Karen
Uncle Art and Aunt Karen. They are such fun relatives!
Art's trailer, which hauled the big stuff
The door of Katie's new apartment
Katie in her new room
A drawer full of plastic bags (giggle)
The family picnic after the move (and a nap) L to R: Thomas, Sara, Art, Jenny, Karen, Katie, Dave (Sara's husband)
Lisa and Jenny's baby, Owen
And then the last day of our road trip, I took a picture of the sun through some fog in Custer SD.
Things I did not get pictures of: me doing family history research, napping, eating lunch with Katie at La Paisa Grill, Katie's workplace (darn!), eating lunch with Katie at PF Chang's, the Draper Temple (Kate has those pictures on her camera. I'll have to check my flash drive to see if she loaded them on it), Katie and her co-worker who lives in the same apartment complex, meeting up in a grocery store with the guy who introduced Jim and me to each other and told Jim to ask me out, Sara's baby Spencer, Jenny's other son Beckham, two other Wright cousins
who weren't able to come to the picnic (and I only ever saw David Wright as he slept on the couch--I never did see him awake. Sara, tell David thanks for the use of his bed while we were there), most of the trip home. I didn't feel well on the first day of our trip home and the second day we were just anxious to get home.
Time for more napping--blogging wore me out!
I now resort to showing you my trip pictures. I have shown you some already, so we pick up the trip on the second day in Utah (I have no idea what day that was. Days don't have names when you are on vacation).
Jim and I went to visit the gravesite of his grandparents. He didn't know exactly where the grave was (he DID know which cemetery, though) and we walked among the gravestones until we found it. I remember Hazel very fondly; she always made me feel welcome and put me at ease right away with her sense of humor. Jim and I visited her a few times while we were still BYU students and then we visited a couple of times after we moved away. The last time was about a week before she passed away. Other Jim (third one after the James Warner on the inscription below) was only about 9 months old at the time.
After the visit, we went to lunch with Katie and then went downtown to the Family History Library where I promptly pulled a muscle scrolling through what seemed like hundreds of film reels of Rathen parish civil registration and old Parochial registers.The next day, Jim cleaned the car. No more dead bugs!
Art showed us a bullet hole he put in the hood of his car after taking Katie and Jim shooting the day before. 
Katie and me on moving day
Her old room after it was emptied of the bed, a desk, and a multitude of other things. Notice that there is still a multitude of even otherer things still there. 
Jim and Kate. Notice that Jim is letting a goatee grow. I guess shaving is not a fun vacation event. I don't mind.
Jim and his former babysitter, Aunt Karen
Uncle Art and Aunt Karen. They are such fun relatives!
Art's trailer, which hauled the big stuff
The door of Katie's new apartment
Katie in her new room
A drawer full of plastic bags (giggle)
The family picnic after the move (and a nap) L to R: Thomas, Sara, Art, Jenny, Karen, Katie, Dave (Sara's husband)
Lisa and Jenny's baby, Owen
And then the last day of our road trip, I took a picture of the sun through some fog in Custer SD.
Things I did not get pictures of: me doing family history research, napping, eating lunch with Katie at La Paisa Grill, Katie's workplace (darn!), eating lunch with Katie at PF Chang's, the Draper Temple (Kate has those pictures on her camera. I'll have to check my flash drive to see if she loaded them on it), Katie and her co-worker who lives in the same apartment complex, meeting up in a grocery store with the guy who introduced Jim and me to each other and told Jim to ask me out, Sara's baby Spencer, Jenny's other son Beckham, two other Wright cousinswho weren't able to come to the picnic (and I only ever saw David Wright as he slept on the couch--I never did see him awake. Sara, tell David thanks for the use of his bed while we were there), most of the trip home. I didn't feel well on the first day of our trip home and the second day we were just anxious to get home.
Time for more napping--blogging wore me out!
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