What *was* I thinking?

I actually don't know why I started blogging.

It was 21 years ago today. I just started writing on a whim.
I'd been in the daycare business for a year, I was still homeschooling, running a Girl Scout troop and working part time. Busy.

I've been glad over the years that I wrote stuff down, it's helpful to me in my work, for example. Old science experiments or other busy-nesses are there when I want to see them or remember 'how did I'.

Working (slowly) on the book I want to write about after school, the stories about my kids are invaluable. It's been pointed out to me more than once that I already have the book written, I just have to find the posts and put them in some sort of coherent order.

Coherent may not be within my reach right now, my brain is going in too many directions.
When this publishes, I'll be 11 days out from a visit from the father in law. 

This time we're putting him in the Costco room. The Momcave is more than occupied. I think he'll actually have more room in there than in here.

Anyway, it's a sort of family chronicle, a journal, a photographic record, work history. Things that make me laugh. An occasional political post, although mostly I just sit here and seethe. No point in writing it down, we still have a shit president and shit people surrounding him.

I'm approaching retirement from my job, guessing I'm going to be done in a little over a year.

I'll probably still write. Seems it's habit forming.

Another thing that I've appreciated greatly are the connections with other people that have happened through what I've written. I follow a lot of of other bloggers, too and have made more than one 'imaginary friend' as my hubby calls you.

Thanks for coming along.

I looked for a picture of a blogger via google (minus ai of course, I always add -ai to the end of my searches) and found nothing I wanted to use. 
I'll leave you with this photo of me about 58 years ago. 

We don't realize how much we're aging until we really look back, huh?

Future Blogger 1968

20

I started writing this blog 20 years ago. 
August 25th, 2005.

I didn't have any particular plan in mind. When I try to recall why I started writing here, I can't figure it out.

I've continued for a few reasons. I'd never been able to keep up with any sort of journal. Being able to look back now on the last 20 years, I'm sorry I didn't, because it would be fun to look waaaaay back.

But for the last 20, I've written about my children, my Girl Scout troop, homeschooling, my work (helping raise other people's children). I have dumped photos here, philosophized (nothing new or life-changing) tie dye, art, friends. It's a chronicle of my life in general, my enjoyment of the young humans I'm entrusted with after school and a place to rant if I need to.

There still is no all-around purpose unless you consider that maybe there shouldn't BE a purpose or underlying goal, in which case I've succeeded magnificently.

I searched a bit and found some things that amused me/made me think/made me feel competent as a writer over 20 years.

Whiskers (mine!!), 
dog butt in our holiday photos,

 the progress of technology and Boob Costas.  

From that post: The man is a dumb ass. Inane comments, (thinking back to the Athens Olympics here and recalling his remark as the team from Djibouti entered the stadium, 'you bet Djibouti'... and the man still kept his job!!) annoying smirk... the worst part is, he takes himself seriously.


The story of a heartbreaking loss of a friend who left behind five children. 

Pie crusts, a new roof on the house, "Dr." Phil (he was an asshole way back when, too) and why we homeschooled. The reasons for continuing had little to do with why we started that particular journey.

From that post:

Open house was the first indication that school was not a lovely experience for Matt. I talked with his teacher (or rather, she talked at me) while Eric toured the classroom with his boy. When I asked her how things were going for him, she started into a recitation of what a pain in the ass he was, although she didn’t use that particular phrase.

With a tight-lipped, tense smile on her face, she said, "Well, I don’t know about Matthew. He has a real problem sitting still. AND! He’s been reversing a few letters! I wonder if we don’t have a little attention deficit on our hands, here. He thinks it’s funny to play with the light switches! He talks in the hall! He chases girls on the playground!"

Imagine how horrified I was to hear that he was behaving like a normal child! Wow, had I done a shitty job as a parent or what!? Chasing girls? OH MY GOD!!!


Camping trips with just the two of us. Dental work. Early Lyssa art.
People who wear too much perfume. 
They tore up my beautiful honeysuckle hedges to put in a sidewalk. They were mostly pigs disguised as men. 

Lyssa made a pink dragon costume.


Look under the cat.

Interesting neighborhood decorations. 
This is a pic of the Jolly Old Elf and his Bighead Alien Baby.
That same neighbor has some interesting ideas about decorating her yard.

Bumper stickers, my brother got my aging parents a Jack Russell terrier puppy ("Jesus Steve, why didn't you just get them a Tasmanian Devil?") Lyssa tried high school and lasted four days, I stepped down from leading a Girl Scout troop, our neighbor Cletus and his crop of half-brights, wildflowers that somehow accidentally magically got transplanted to our yard.

This post about Reese still remains one of my favorite things that I've ever written. I loved that kid so much. He's 24 or 25 years old now. I think of him often and hope he's doing well.

We're all proctologists.

Stories about shoulder surgery. (91 nights in a recliner.) Knee surgeries. Work comp and working for Champions, a division of Kindercare where children most definitely do not come first. Or second. Or third. Not sure they enter into the equation at all at corporate level. Toxic fucking place to work, and no, not just because of work comp. Assholes. I sent a letter to the boss of the bosses of the bosses after I left there. Still took them 10 years to get rid of that whoreible (whoreiffic?) individual. If I ever see her again, I would like to kick her in the taco. I've been blacklisted by Champions, which, while hilarious considering some of the incompetent fucking potatoes they hire as managers, doesn't matter. No way in hell would I ever work for those shitbags again. Eric said that letter was the best 'fuck you' without the use of profanity that he's ever seen. I don't know about that, but it was strangely satisfying and I don't regret it.

I learned to paint during the pandemic.
This is the first one I did from a tutorial online.

I have so many things I've written that we'd be here the next 20 years if I were to try and talk about them and I don't want to do that.

A great deal of this blog has been about the antics and trials and fun of working in after school. I am working on putting things in some sort of coherent form and writing a book.
Every time I go for training and some doofus or doofette talks about how they control their children it makes me crazy. It's always about control, too. Not teaching the kids self-control, but training them to follow adult control.

Meanwhile, regular life happens, too. It's hotter than the first four layers of Hell out there this weekend. The drains are backed up, I was running a load of laundry today and there was a bunch of BLURP BLURP BLURP noise from the bathroom and water had come up in the tub and was blurping in the throne as well.

Eric dumped a bunch of chemical shit down the drain, but he has to go tomorrow morning and rent a piece of equipment to fix the issue.

Dammit.


Okay.
4,622 posts.
4,457 comments. (y'all need to step up your game)
1 kabillion times I have written something down or laughed at kid antics or learned something interesting and said, "I have to put that on my blog!"

20 years.

Huh.

Oh my gosh, I forgot!!

August 25th marked 19 years of writing here.

I've never been able to keep up with a written journal. A good deal of that is just that writing by hand takes SO LONG. There's always something I'd rather do than write on a paper. So any time I tried with a notebook, my efforts didn't last long. I regret that, as I enjoy reading back over my blog here. I wish I'd written when my kids were small. Even earlier when we'd only been married 10 years or so. So much has happened and so many little things that are gone from my mind forever. It's not that I miss them... can't if I can't remember them. But I know there are memories that I won't be able to see.

Shoulda written more down.

But using the computer, well... different.

this isn't me

I can watch whatever series I am binge-watching or I can draw while I am writing. Or sort of in between thoughts and sentences.

I don't know how everyone else's writing process works, but for me, the majority of my writing happens in my brain for at least a day or two before I try to write it down. Some stuff is faster than that, especially if it's a big thing on my mind. Something I feel passionate about will just... sploosh onto the page.

But other things take awhile and are done with a great deal of thought.

The eulogy I wrote about my dad, for example. It was about 18 hours of writing, editing, polishing, editing some more and finally hitting that print button only to catch a couple things I wanted to change.

In the 19 years I've written here, my kids grew up. Through homeschooling and music classes and enrichment classes through the public school (with somewhat mixed results, I guess..) and kids in braces and learning to drive and finding their significant others and getting married and dealing with all the stuff life tosses at us.

Car accidents and job changes. Surgeries and work comp assholes.

I learned to draw a little. Then branched out into original artwork. And painting. If you'd told me when I started writing here that I'd consider myself an artist, I would have laughed at you.

I've written 1,779 posts about my job. You've been there along with me while I've worked with some really interesting young humans.

And speaking of art. Kids are great at art. Like my portrait, drawn by Jennifer.

Who could forget this really swell picture of a sword?

And my favorite valentine EVER.... she made one for every single kid in the program....

Took Lyssa out for lunch one day and snapped this photo of a woman flossing her teeth at the table in a restaurant. Still makes me laugh and it's been a long time. Funny is still funny, right?

I learned to tie dye. Which doesn't sound like a big deal, but it's a great creative outlet and I've made some really fun stuff.

All my socks are dyed. My shoelaces. My lanyards for work.
I once dyed a bunch of underwear for my dad. He loved them, put some on his head and modeled for a photo one Christmas.

He wore them all the time until he wore them out.

I made him a green and other green shirt once. Which he also wore out.

I've made friends by blogging, too. Sure, they're long distance, but I sincerely appreciate the relationships I've found through this medium.

There's a lot more. We'd be here another 19 years if I went through all that's happened.

Thanks for joining me. Hope you continue to hang out.

Busy-ness

I keep meaning to write something. Even a little something. And then I'm tired and it's gotten late and I go, 'ah, tomorrow maybe' and then there's nothing.

I've finally gotten things a little calmer in my new program. It was pretty crazy there for awhile, 39 kids going in 39 different directions and getting into all kinds of trouble because the only things provided for them to do are crash into each other and throw things. Oh, and yell. And run in the cafeteria.

We've started 'Eat and Meet'. A daily thing where they come in, wash their hands and go to a cafeteria table. They don't have to eat if they don't want to, but all the activity carts are closed and they're required to sit at the tables until the timer goes off at 3:30. (School is out at 3 but all the kids aren't there until about 3:10, so not a long time.)

About five minutes before the timer goes off we have our daily 'Team Meeting', which is a company thing they want us to do.  We discuss what activities are happening that day, the crafty stuff that will be available. I also like to make sure the kids are able to talk if they have something to share with everyone. It would be easy to spend that time EVERY afternoon talking about which rules they've broken the day before, but I'm hoping that with the personal conversations we have, usually as soon as something happens, that I won't have to do that daily.

We discuss general rules (playground safety, cafeteria rules)

"If you don't get to run in the cafeteria during school you're not doing it after school either."

Although I dislike the forced inactivity, I had to do something to fix the situation.

My goal is to shorten the time a little bit every week and within the next month or two, be able to dispense with the 'you must sit after school' thing.

My company provided me with a large timer so I can set it and put it up on the edge of the stage for the kids so they can see it.

It has helped. They are calmer and more mindful of keeping their hands away from their friends. There is no meanness in them, they are just busy. There has not been a consistent adult handling the program for this entire school year so far.

It's just a lot.

As I always do, I have brought in many things from my own supplies. Origami paper, bead projects, little crafts. Glue and sequins and sparkly things. Fuse beads and peg boards and little trays so beads don't end up all over the floor. Oh it still happens, just in smaller amounts.

I have purchased quite a bit even though I won't be reimbursed for it. I could ask for things, and they might even get me some of the things I want, but waiting a month or so to start fixing the mess was too long a wait for me.

This week was the first week we were able to do a few crafts. I took a photo of my cluttered table toward the end of the day on Tuesday as visual proof that things have improved enough to start making controlled messes instead of the uncontrolled chaos.  Like this:

One of the little guys made the yellow bird. He borrowed my pen to put hair on its chest. Several other little guys found that hysterical. I admit it, I laughed, too.

And a barely six year old boy drew this chicken. It made me smile, so I got a photo for you. Hope it makes you smile, too. Sorry it's sideways, but that's not unfitting, considering the environment the 'chikin' was born into. LOL

We made fingerprint art.

One of the smaller girls made me this rose.

It's just a lot. Working from home in the morning for a few hours, planning time and surfing the internet looking for projects I can do with stuff on hand. Answering emails. Printing specific forms for my site that have to be done weekly. Trying to learn a bunch of different things on the computer. I'm not computer illiterate, but I wasn't born with a cell phone in my hand and did not grow up with computers in my life, so there's definitely a learning curve. I'm getting there.

Then the afternoon commute. To arrive at school by 2, I need to leave my house by 1:10. If I need to stop at our offices, I have to leave earlier than that. For example, this coming Monday I have a 9:30 meeting, so I will need to leave my house by 8:30. Long day for me.

After I get the last kid out the door (she's usually picked up right at six) I finish locking our cabinet and putting away the phone and paperwork in the file drawers and locking that. I use the restroom 'cause driving with my legs crossed is not my favorite thing, then I get out the door. I'm usually home by 7:10.

It doesn't leave me a great deal of time to have dinner, write something for my blog, do some laundry or just do nothing.

I don't hate it. But I'm tired.

It's not as fast as I'd like. Of course it never is.
I start working in a new kid place and it's dismal.
Dusty and grimy, years of kid dirt all over everything.

Neglected.

I'm not a thief.
But I've wished over and over the last few weeks that I'd taken at least some of the stuff I bought for my last program. Yeah, even though I bought the stuff, I'd still consider it stealing to take from the kids. Dammit.

I used to think integrity was a thing to be proud of.

Really, I still do. But I wish I'd brought a few more things with me when I left. I wouldn't want to deprive the kids, but I could have taken some more stuff.

Send money.

Okay then.

Blogger won't let me answer my comments today. I can approve them, but can't see them afterward. Weird.

Not sure why, but can't do it on my phone or my tablet, either. So maybe I can access them tomorrow.

I will have more photos, hopefully better ones... but haven't hooked up the big camera to the computer yet.

Bob's camera decided it wasn't going to work for him and he used my big camera instead. So I had the little one. I did take photos, but not as many as I would have liked to. It was kind of a busy day.

I gave away the rest of the flowers (had two bunches that I didn't use) on the local FB 'Buy Nothing' group. Gave away the platter that looked like a flower, too. The other platter belonged to my maternal grandmother, so that one stays. I use it every year for our Thanksgiving dinner. Rarely anytime in between.

Meanwhile, it's after 9 and I am up at 5 and even though there is a nap built into my schedule, it's not enough of a nap that I wanna stay up all night.

So more photos coming soon, answers to your comments, too.

Zzzzz ya later.

It's been 16 years today!!

I don't know what sort of entity prodded me into starting a blog on August 25th, 2005.

I don't know what I expected to accomplish, I had no idea if anyone would want to read what I was writing, I didn't know what I'd be writing about.

And I still haven't really figured it out.
I write for myself, it's a journal of sorts. You can find political statements, things that made me laugh, things that aren't funny but made me laugh anyway, stories about my job, my family, my kids.

Just a slice of life sorta thing.

I have been surprised by how many people read what I write. I started out not worrying about that, but I  find that when someone enjoys my writing, I enjoy their enjoyment. It encourages me to continue with what I'm doing.

As I was writing that line, I went to my stat counter and found that 276,081 page views have occurred.

This means that the 12 of you have been here a lot. Ha.
 
I have over 25,000 comments, but since I've tried to make sure to answer all of them for the past 10 years or so, that drops the total down a bit.

But thanks for reading, for commenting, for coming back over and over.

I have made friends here, and I'm happy about that, too.

Happy Blog Anniversary to me.... please send money. LOTS of it. :)

Um, thanks for saying something!!

I had to start moderating comments because of some brain-dead toilet hound.
Haven't seen him in the stats lately, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's not reading.

So I went and looked at 'comments awaiting moderation' this morning.
I'm so sorry I haven't published your comments!!!!

Usually I get an email notification, but there were several comments waiting for me to approve!

So Mary and Peg and WSF, I am sorry!!

your comments are there now... I gotta go answer 'em!

Want a shirt?

I realized that on August 26th of this year this blog has been up for twelve years.

Can't let that go by, am I right?

So leave me a comment with your t shirt size and favorite colors and I'll have 'my' kids draw a number sometime in the next week. If your number is the one drawn, I'll send you a tie dyed shirt and a pair or two of socks to go with it.

As soon as I dye some stuff, that is.

But hey, twelve years.
I have had a lot to say over those years.
And there are a couple of you who've been with me since the beginning.

So yeah. Want a tie dyed shirt?

Reports of my Demise...

I'm fine.
I know I mentioned a few posts ago that I'm really swamped with work. And I am. Or was.

The Christmas Break, that mythical state of Nirvana that I loved even as a child has arrived. I really love it now, as it means an end to days that start at 5 AM and never end.

Leading up to that break, however, was a ton of crazy.

Running here and there, trying to finish the little projects, playing catch up after the school flooded and was closed for three days, finishing making the gifts I've been working on for my own family, trying to do a little more dehoarding of the domicile (I will never be finished with that, but I can say that I *have* made a great deal of progress) and assorted other things that have caught up with me... well, I haven't been blogging.

In the last week, I had three nights of a parent picking up a child late. One of those nights the mom didn't arrive until half an hour past closing.

Part of the issue is the continued closure of a main road. I drive that road every day, or at least I did until the flood, and although there's always traffic on it, it never seems that busy. Not that busy until all the cars and trucks that usually take that road are clogging the smaller streets between here and there. It's one of the main routes out into the rural area where you can find my school, and the parents who are heading out there to get their kids are getting stuck in traffic.

I think that this time of year, people are just frazzled and trying to manage grocery store runs and last minute gifts and dinner on the table. They stay a little later at work so that maybe they can have an extra day off during the holidaze, which are upon us. And they end up five or ten minutes late picking up their children. Understandable, but frustrating all the same.

Friday afternoon we had a little party. The original How the Grinch Stole Christmas, a few games of BINGO, popcorn, finishing touches on a couple projects and some extremely wired children made it a very interesting afternoon.

My work party was that evening, too. I am not a party animal. At all. I don't have a great deal in common with the people I work with, either. But I do like most of them. So I went. It was a potluck at someone's house. I made Garlic Bastard Chicken... add some garlic to some of whatever-stuff-of-unknown-origins (hence the bastard part of the name) I have around the house to toss into the Crock Pot and dump in some fettuccine noodles. Turned out great. I brought the still-three-hours-to-cook dish to work and plugged it in to finish cooking. Many people walked in and asked me what the wonderful smell was.

I'm working the break program. Long story (and I don't have time to tell it tonight 'cause it's already bedtime) but we have a new-ish site director who is every bit as abrasive as Brashley was, but without the redeeming qualities. She's a peach.

I asked for next week completely off, Eric is evidently not going to be working and I'd much rather spend the time with him than working with someone who gets on everyone's last nerve and then stomps on it.

Anyway. I won't probably be back to posting regularly until after the break unless I have something terribly important to say. I may pop in, may not. Depends on how much time I have to actually sit and ponder.

I know that Tami wasn't worried since we've communicated recently.
Sorry to everyone else.

I have lots to ponder and write about. I do. But then I get home and it's already almost seven, and I have to manage to consume some food, catch up with my family, make sure everyone has clean socks and underwear for the next day, run the dishwasher...I know. Everyone else is busy too.

I should be back to regular ramblings on January 4th, which is when school starts back up. Before that, I may manage to share some art with you, a family photo or two, and this little joke I posted on Facebook this evening....
When I was young, I decided I wanted to be a doctor so I took the entrance exam to go to medical school.
One of the questions asked to rearrange the letters PNEIS into the name of an important human body part which is most useful when erect.
Those who answered "spine" are doctors today. The rest of us are posting jokes on Facebook .

I really am still functioning over here...

Been really busy with work. Lots of kids. My program has grown a lot. Never enough time to get everything done while I'm there.

The regional manager and our area manager went out to my school this week and met with the principal. He came down to my program in the afternoon and told me about the meeting. He said they both had wonderful things to say about me.

Ha. Say it with cash. :)

Anyway, things are good. Swamped. But good. Still working on getting the mess around here cleaned up. And getting down to the wire, my father in law will be here on the 14th.

Oh, and my daughter is coming home on Saturday. Tomorrow. About 22 hours from now. I can't wait. I have missed her soooo much.

Why didn't anyone tell me that children grow up and have their own lives?
I just wanted to have babies. ;)

So I will try to get back to blogging this week. Really. And I'll try to answer some of your comments, too. I'm feeling guilty that I haven't kept up.

Okay, bedtime. Lots of cleaning up to do tomorrow.

10 years ago

I just got this odd urge to write a blog. I had seen a few that I enjoyed reading.

I've never been successful in keeping any sort of journal or diary for longer than a few months. But this format is engaging for me. I can't really say why.

I've amazed myself with the cascade of words that have just.. flowed from me.

Sometimes I write something that I like, only to come back a few years later and re-read it. I find out that I actually love it. And it surprises me that I wrote something so engaging/amusing/deep. This is still my most-read post. I'm not sure why. Although I have to say it amuses me every time I read it, so perhaps that's why. It's funny. Likewise this one.

I wrote a lot about the work comp stuff. I still can't believe there are people whose sole function in life is to keep injured workers from receiving the care they deserve after being injured on the job. It makes me sick. The head fuckwit and his team of reprobates really deserve every shitty thing that happens to them for the rest of their lives.

I talk about politics. I don't think I'll influence anyone, but that's okay with me. I'm not trying to. It does upset me to see otherwise intelligent people voting for a party rather than a person, but since there aren't any people worth voting for, it's certainly understandable.

I say a lot about the kids I work with. They're always so funny.
So many people wonder aloud how I can work with kids for a living. I was never a big fan of other people's kids until I started working with them. They're hysterically funny and serious and cute and smart and deep. And they're locked away all day long in an institution. We're all poorer because of it.

I write about life and what I think about the things that we all take for granted. Funerals, for example.

I ramble.

There are a couple of you who've read from the beginning. I'm not sure if it's because you like me or you like my writing. Either/or. Thanks.

Ten years ago I had an 18 year old and a 12 year old here at home.
I spent my afternoons working in an after school program. I took the job because it fit into my schedule and I could make a little money to supplement our income.

That employment paid for some important things and helped us along. It actually wasn't that long before I figured out that it's my calling.

I'll never become wealthy working there, of course.
But that's never been the point.

I'm not sure how I've ended up blogging so long.
Thanks for sticking with me.

Can't slow down just yet..

School is out.
I have a load of stuff to grab tomorrow morning at my school and plan to haul it to our summer program. I'm glad to have a truck.

My feet are tired. My knee hurts. And it's going to be crazy-busy for the next two days at work.

So I'm fine. Tami. Just swamped.
Which I am sure you have no idea about. Since you're trying to write a billion words before Sunday. :)

I will get here and actually write something as soon as I can.

Today one of my kids was picked up and his mom wanted to talk to me.
She wanted me to know that he has been in three different programs run by the same company and that he has always hated it. Until now. Although he's scheduled for Wednesdays, he usually does not attend on that day, instead going to hang out with a friend after school.

He told his mom he didn't want to miss the last day of my program today.

I got hugs. I got gift cards. I received kind words.

I'm tired.

What I Really Think

Q: Where do vampires go to learn to suck blood?
A: Law school.

I haven't had anything to say about the work comp shit lately.
Unless I forget something, this will be the last full post about it.

I reserve the right to complain whenever I want to, though.

Of course I still am living with chronic pain and a broken and permanently damaged knee*, it's often full of water, too.

And I'm still just.. gobsmacked at how horrible the whole thing was.

*Damaged until I choose to have it replaced. They try to keep you going years and years and years on the ruined joint, as a replacement only lasts about 12 years. It's gonna be a long road. Much longer than the 5+ years I've been on it already. Thanks, you fucking assholes.

I had never had occasion to look into the whole sordid work comp business before all this shit happened, you see.

Now that I have, I'll tell you and anyone else who is hurt at work, GET A LAWYER. Do it first. In fact, it might be a good idea to research work comp attorneys now, just in case you ever are injured at work. That way, you know who to call. That will take one thing off your plate, and believe me, that's a good thing.

I am not completely thrilled with my choice of attorney, but could have done worse.

Although I think her intentions were good, there were things my attorney did not tell me.
A lot of them.
That lack of knowledge ended up being detrimental to me, because if I knew then what I know now...

I think this is due to the fact that all she does is work comp and takes for granted that people know things that they do not.

And because she's too busy. Too many cases and none of them are personally important to anyone but the person who's been injured and his or her family. There is no one looking out for your best interests but you. No one cares how much pain you're in, no one is going to listen to you unless you yell really, really loud.

Trust me on this.

I will be sending her a letter to try to explain what it would have helped for me to know.

Sort of as a public service for the next person who gets hurt on the job and doesn't know what really happens.

That they're about to be slammed with even more pain and suffering and humongous piles of bullshit. That the attorney(s) who work for the comp insurer (and the comp insurer) don't give a fuck whether you're hurt, what you need, how they can best help make you whole again. All they care about is doing whatever they can to avoid taking care of your injuries in the first place.

In addition, they want you to just take it.
Say nothing.
Go away, be quiet.
Suffer in silence, as it were.

The opposing attorney didn't like me speaking up on my blog.
They started reading it quite early in the proceedings.

It wasn't long before they subscribed via email to avoid showing up in my stats, but I knew they were reading.

The conventional wisdom about knowing your audience and writing for them was not lost on me. ;)

That post kept me from having to attend still another redundant exam.
Idiots.
Left hand, meet right hand.

The comp attorney made vague rumblings about libel. There were comments about me 'badmouthing' my employer.
Which is a complete crock of shit.
I have taken great care not to do that.
I am invested in my program with all my heart and not a small amount of my own damn money.

Is it a perfect company?
No. It's a large corporation, and there's a great deal of left hand not knowing what right hand is doing, but it's not a bad place to work.

I think for the most part, they do a decent job with benefits etc. It *is* hard to be heard, because peons can't talk to anyone, but that's kind of okay, too.

I'm out on my own little island, hanging out with my kids and doing my job. Getting paid to play.

I think Mr. comp attorney was projecting... I'm sure he's not much fun to work for.

No reason for me to say bad things about my company.
My company doesn't take care of their injured workers anyway.
Instead, they've hired an insurance company who doesn't take care of them.

I'm sure once they've handed off to the insurer, they don't even know what's going on. That's why you hire someone else to do things... so you don't have to. Right? Oh, they might get a very sanitized update now and then, but they don't really *know*.

If I ran the world, though,(or at least my own company) I'd assign someone from the company to monitor work comp cases and make sure the people who work for me are being taken care of properly.

And if not, find out why. Make things right.

Anyway, those fucking humanitarians and statesmen of the ever-popular putz and assbite Inc. didn't like me talking about MY injuries on MY FUCKING BLOG. They didn't like the scrutiny and honesty about what was going on and what was being done, er, NOT being done for me.

If me telling the truth was detrimental to them... if the m.i.t.s.c.s was so afraid that one small blog, out of millions of small blogs would shine unwanted light on his operation, then maybe he should consider changing the way he does business.

As for libel, he'd have to prove I damaged his reputation (oh good god... seriously???)
And that I somehow affected his earnings.
Again, nope. The only damages were the ones done to me.

And if the things I wrote about were true (they were, to the best of my knowledge) there *is* no libel anyway. He knew/knows that. He was just doing the standard intimidation that has helped him and people like him be the flowers of humanity they are.

I chose to remove his name from my blog because I was sick and tired of that asshole.

I found even the act of reading his name abhorrent and disgusting.
Like stepping in dog shit.

I didn't want him here anymore.

But gee whiz, I can't imagine why he didn't like me writing about what was going on.

The tens of people who read my blog would never have need of his services, and if a simple google search by someone who was considering retaining him found my blog, why, wouldn't that be to his benefit?

So when I made the decision to scrub the shit off remove his name from my blog, it was for me.
Not him.
He can rot in hell.

I sent a letter to my attorney. Told her to feel free to send it on to him. Instead, she sanitized it and sent him a condensed version.

I've always been sorry about that, I thought he should have seen the whole letter. My guess is that he's still paying some poor asshole to monitor my blog, so perhaps he will see this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear My Attorney,

I received your recent letter in which you passed on the requests made by whosit regarding my personal blog and the comments about libel and/or other possible legal action.

As a public figure who earns a living by doing his best to make sure injured workers aren't compensated for their on-the-job injuries, I'm sure this isn't the first time whosit has been recognized for how splendidly he functions within those parameters.

As the injured party in this particular case, I have gone through and will continue to suffer extra years of pain and disability due in part to his efforts to help the insurer avoid covering my injuries in a timely manner.

I can't imagine why he finds it odd that I don't appreciate his help in keeping me from the care I deserved.

Partly due to whosit's efforts, I will eventually have to have my knee replaced, when if I'd been listened to by my doctors and they hadn't been repeatedly pressured by the insurer and their lawyers to close my case, it may have been possible to salvage my knee.

Nothing I can do about it now.

The irreversible damage to my knee and my mobility is now just another fact of life. It affects nearly everything I do, actually.

I can't imagine how anyone could feel good about that.

But strictly as a courtesy, I have done my best to remove his name and the name of his law firm from my blog.

If one searches my blog now, they will find whosit and his law firm renamed, some old posts changed, and some sections sanitized.

I know my employer is aware of my blog.
In fact, I have discussed it with my employer at great length on several occasions over the past few years.

There are many reasons I have never mentioned the name of the company I work for or our location, and never connected my own name with my blog.

Most of those reasons have to do with the privacy and security of the children I care for, but I also love my job.

The heroic efforts I've put forth to continue working through some horrendous pain probably show that in ways that words cannot.

I don't care if they want to monitor my blog until Hell freezes over.

If instructions for craft projects, stories about the children I care for, and occasional pictures of my family or my artwork are interesting enough to him to continue paying someone to read my blog, then by all means they should feel free to do so. It will add to my tens of readers.

Finally, I may have overlooked something. If I didn't catch all the posts or mentions of whosit or his firm, I will immediately remove those things if notified.

That is much more than was necessary.
And shows far more courtesy to him than he has ever shown to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And from the other letter I sent to her...

I received the copy of the letter you sent to whosit regarding my blog.

I may have removed his name and references to his firm, but I will always  wonder how someone who hurts people for a living feels okay about it.

I'm sure he thinks I was sufficiently intimidated by his blustering and his thinly veiled threats about libel to remove his name from my writings.

Not so.

He'd have a hell of a time proving I damaged his reputation. If anything, someone trying to decide whether or not to hire him to represent their company would be pleased to see how devoid of humanity he is.
That cold-hearted lawyer stereotype exists for a reason.
I enhanced his reputation.

And let's be realistic.
About 20 people a day read my writings.
18 of those are repeat customers.

I'm simply... weary. Ready to dismiss him from my universe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And with this post, that's my plan. Obviously the constant and unrelenting pain I have will cause me to remember him from time to time and send out a wish that everyone he comes in contact with will treat him exactly as he deserves. And I know that hurting people does eventually come back and bite you in the ass... I'm sorry I will probably never know when that happens.

Okay. On to better things. I'd mention them here, but I don't want to taint the good things in my life with even a hint of the filth that's surrounded me for the past 5 years.

I am Mental... and I approve this message!

So I got an email from my friend Ms. A over at Sarcastic Granny. (Which is a great name for a blog, if you should wonder...)

She has apparently not been able to leave comments on my blog for awhile.

I had no idea.

Since I have comment moderation because of some wacky spam stuff, all my comments are supposed to come to my inbox. I can send them off to never-never with a click of the little button on my mouse if they contain suspicious links or word salad.

I didn't find any emails in my inbox, but when I checked the spam/messages waiting for approval on my blog, well, I found about 20 comments that had been languishing there. Just waiting for someone to look at 'em. :)

Apparently, her comments and some other people's comments as well ended up in my blog spam folder. I never even got an email notification that someone had commented! Hell of a way to run a railroad, if you should wonder.

So if you comment and you don't see your comment show up, email me. Please.
I removed the comment moderation already, but according to Granny up there ^^ that doesn't seem to make a difference. It's possibly a gmail issue instead.

I don't know. But I don't like it. And I hope no one thinks I didn't want their comments. Because I do. I really do.*

*Unless you're a crooked work comp lawyer/one of his minions with your buttload of shitty personal and professional ethics.
Then, you can kiss my ass.

Just Busy

I baked. I made fudge. I managed to make sure there was no sugar left on the counter or the floor or in any nooks and crannies... including (but by no means limited to) my own.

I have been doing laundry, preparing for the next two weeks working with some, um, challenging kids as well as having fun projects for the kids who are actually there to have a good time.

So I will try to keep up here, but if you don't hear from me, it's just that time of year. :)

Yep, seems about right...

Attn.Beneficiary I am writing to inform you sequel to the notification received from the g8 leaders to release your fund inheritance accredited to you. Meanwhile, a woman came to our office yesterday that she is your personal attorney by name Yastie Denis from new york, united state. You are required to notify this office if truly that miss Yastie Dennis is your personal attorney, as we did gave her the scan copy of your draft payment waiting for verification from your bank. If this said lady is your attorney, we shall be sending your draft to her by courier, but if she is not your representative, lets terminate every arrangement in place of delivering your draft to her address in new york. I await your immediate response. Mr.Ian Narev Director Internal /External Control Commonwealth Bank group.

I am confused, though. If they gave a copy of the draft to Nastie... no, Yastie, then why do they need me?

Silly spammers.

In that same batch of spam was a letter from "Angela" who 'heard I have large male pakage'. Yes, that's how it was spelled.

I don't have a male package, although I do have access to one...

Stop worrying, Tami

I just decided to let tonight's post simmer a bit. Not finished writing it in my head yet.

So I'm tangling instead.
And writing tomorrow.

I love the internet

Sometimes I forget how spoiled we are to have the technology available to us today.

Remember when you used shoot a roll of 24 or 36 exposures, take the roll of film to the local drugstore, wait a week and then get maybe one or two pictures from the whole roll that didn't suck?

Did your dinner get cold while you were looking at and ordering your photos online? 
Stick it in the microwave for a minute or two. Hot dinner again. About the time you're finished with your dinner, your email will let you know your prints are ready at the local store.

Telephones. Let's talk about telephones.
When I worked at a little ceramic company in California in 1984, one of the ladies I worked with had a hubby who was some kind of high priced corporate guy. I don't know what he did for a living. He made a lot of money and he wasn't a very nice guy. Maybe he was a crooked lawyer. Ha.

Anyway, one lunchtime, I sat in the car with Wanda. And there was a TELEPHONE in the car!! In the center console was a regular black telephone. With a boingity cord connecting the handset to the phone.

There were also two large antennas on the roof of the car. I was soooo impressed with that telephone. I couldn't believe a person could be driving down the road and talking on the phone. She said that it was expensive, but yes, a person could make important calls. That it wasn't there so she could call and tell him to bring home a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk.

Now you can pull a phone out of your pocket and argue with people on the internet all day long... or of course ask your wife to bring home some milk. Or beer.
  Computers make it easy to find out almost anything. In the past month or so, I have learned many new things. I encourage the kids at work to come in and tell me what they've learned every day. Sometimes, they come in and tell me things they've found on the internet, sometimes from books or from parents or their teachers. I'm trying to get them to ponder the many ways a person can learn, and to figure out that learning isn't confined to a building between the hours of 8 and 3, Monday through Friday.

Hm. In no particular order, here are some of the things I've googled (funny how that's now a universally recognized verb, but my spell check, on a computer that's full of google, doesn't like the word) and/or looked at in the last month.

A few movie plots. I don't really love watching movies, although I will sit with Eric and watch whatever offering we have from Netflix for the weekend. I bring my computer and my zentangly stuff and we sit in the same room. Sometimes the movie's a little slow and I want to find out what's going to happen.

I looked up different plants. Flower photos. Tangle patterns. The cost of wedding flowers made commercially. It's like 40 bucks for a corsage with just a couple roses and a sprig of baby's breath!! I didn't figure out how much money we saved by my work on making the wedding flowers, but I spent about a hundred bucks for everything. Ribbons and flowers and wires and floral tape and the bouquet holder. 

I looked up some legal information, too. I was reading something interesting and looked up libel. 

Did you know that when you're a public figure (politician, lawyer, actor, university professor) the rules are a little different than for your average Joe. Or Jill. To prove libel, the ostensibly injured party would have to show both intent and substantial damage to his or her reputation and/or livelihood. It's a threat often bandied about to make people stop talking, but it's usually a bunch of wind.
Most of the time, people who want to safeguard their reputations don't go around doing questionable things and hurting other people.
Most of the time. :)

I looked up the rewards program for our credit card. We've never used any of our points, so there were a bunch of them accumulating. I chose a fifty dollar Amazon card and a fifty dollar card for a meal at Red Lobster. It's certainly not free money, but getting those gift cards required the internet.

Checked into, "What happens when you get a rock chip in the windshield of the car you rented?" Found out that yes, my own car insurance would cover it, but who knows what would happen to our deductible? I was advised to take a photo of the rock chip next to a dime or quarter to show the size of the damaged spot, as on occasion a rental car company will come back and try to bill your credit card for a full windshield replacement.  I took the photo without realizing there was no card in my good camera. So we have no photographic evidence anyway.

But they didn't bill us for a full windshield. It cost us an extra seventeen bucks on top of the one week rental, but that wasn't too bad. We saved something like 150 bucks by renting the car for a week. Eric, Lyssa and Bob drove up to Kennewick and saw Eric's sister over Labor Day weekend.

Eric hadn't seen her in the more than 35 years since we met, Bob in at least 25. Long story, and not mine to tell. But they were able to talk and spend some time together. I needed a car to get around while they were gone, and they needed something a little larger than the car we ordinarily drive, so we rented a Camry.

I perused the news websites. They're often fun to look at. KATU has the worst written website of the ones I read. Full of grammatical and factual errors. I swear they get a monkey with a typewriter to do their headlines. Case in point:

Family of Rainier Police Chief killed frustrated suspect trial date not set yet
One of the people who commented on that story wanted to know if punctuation had gone up in price.

I read a lot of blogs.

I am on Facebook, but I don't put a lot of information out there.
There are a lot of FB links in my history, too.
Amazon.
Netflix.
Gmail.
Verizon and other places who provide services for me are paid online.
Medical stuff and a few local bills are paid by my credit union with computer-generated checks. I go online and send money.

Recipes.

Work email. I often order my snacks and supplies while I'm sitting here at home. No, I don't get paid for the time I spend doing it. That's my choice. I'd rather spend the time at home and order while I'm doing other things (eating dinner, chatting online with friends, drawing tangly stuff) instead of taking time away from the kids while I'm trying to work. I don't want to stay late, either. When the last kid leaves for the evening, I am out the door as soon as I can be. I love being there, but I love being home more. :)

And then there's blogging, too. Lots of links to me answering comments on my blog and commenting on others. I've been writing here since 2005. It's been a journal more than anything else. I still like doing it, or I'd stop. I wonder if the next generation in the nursing homes will be writing blogs and playing video games and/or D&D.

I also write a work blog (no, you wouldn't be interested in the link) for the people I work with. It's a way for us to exchange ideas and solutions, although it's more of a monologue and I've mostly stopped writing there. It was a volunteer thing and just hasn't caught on.

I am up at 1 AM with some interesting heartburn. We ate kinda late. But I've been up long enough to finish writing this, hit post and go back to sleep. Busy day planned.
Hope you're having a good day.
Zzzz you later.


 
  



 

Arguing with myself about blogging.. because my life is so damn interesting!!

I don't want to blog every day right now.
And I still plan to miss blogging whenever I feel like it.
Okay?
But when I read back over my blog (almost nine years old now!!) I find that keeping a journal of life in general has been good for me.
Therapeutic.
Cathartic.
I enjoy some of the memories of the things I've written about.
I'm glad I've kept track of everything that's going on.

But sometimes I've felt tied to writing every day, which isn't something I want, either. It ceases to be fun if I *must* do it. But then things happen at home or at work that I want to blog about.
We have so many terrific people on our staff. I think that's what sets our program apart from others available in the area. 
Every one of us brings something amazing to the program.
Art projects and a sense of humor and care for the kids.
All of us care so much about what we do, too.
I'm proud to be part of this particular group.

When I did community theater back in the dark ages, the feeling was similar to this. Being part of something bigger than the individual and making something nice out of it.

We have a loosely packaged curriculum for summer.
Unit studies, basically. Something we used a lot while homeschooling.

There are several suggested projects and supply lists, instructions, background information and activities for just about all of it in one convenient book.

I say loosely packaged because this summer, they've built in room for us to bring our own ideas and fun.

We have water play days, bike and scooter days, video game days, dress up days, lots of visitors who come talk to the kids, field trips and snacks and a ton of 'extra'.

But we do stick to the curriculum for the larger projects.
For example, today's disastrous attempt at papier mache. (How the hell does one put an accent ' in the word properly? Tami?)
The people who wrote the curriculum and want us to do certain projects almost certainly didn't multiply the number of children by the amount of mess that each project would produce.

And let me tell you, it grows exponentially. :)

I'm smart. I've been doing this a long time. So we took our little project out of doors. It was still messy, but hey, I didn't have to clean it up.

But. We didn't have the supplies we needed to do it properly. I'm not sure which person on our staff thought plaster of paris would work. I wasn't the person who came up with the idea.

The kids' projects ended up soggy and misshapen. I don't know if they will be salvageable after they dry. It may be one of those learning experiences that we all benefit from, and we might have to start a little smaller and try again.

I don't really mind trying again but it was very hectic outside today.
We talked ahead of time about behavior expectations. I told the kids that they would NOT be running out there, because it was hot, even in the mostly shady area we chose to work in.
"Bring a book, art supplies, a soft ball to toss, a book to read, a game to play..."

Well I'm sure you can imagine what happened. About a half hour into it, the natives were restless. They started acting like children. Running. Throwing things. Etc.

We were trying to work with supplies that weren't doing the job. It was hot. The kids were frustrated trying to hold things together that were becoming waterlogged. Kids playing catch were running through the middle as we finally finished as much as we were going to.

We got everything cleaned up, got back inside for snack a little late, and started cleaning plaster off everything. Tons o' fun.
Not all the kids want to do projects.
That's okay, and encouraged both by the company and the staff.

We offer them alternatives, and try to gently nudge them into creative pursuits, but some kids just... aren't into it.

Eric says that when he was in school he wasn't the least bit interested in making things. He either thought they'd be too challenging when the teacher presented her perfectly made example, or he thought they were just "stupid"... his word for it.

So when kids don't want to do a project, they don't. The trick is finding them something they will do that doesn't piss everyone else off.

And now I'm going to go finish getting the rest of the plaster off my skin and catch a shower and ice my knee. I'll be going to sleep with my pal the TNS unit again tonight. Woohoo.

Protip... don't try using plaster of paris for papier mache.

You're welcome.

Blog Break

Remember that talented six year old? He's a sculptor, too.

Can't tell you...

About my weekend plans as I'm pretty sure you don't care about dehoarding and if you did, you'd be over here helping!!

About anything of importance.

All is well.

Tami, we need to chat about Monday. I'll call you this weekend. Or text you. Or email you.

Our local firefighters came to talk to the kids today. They extended the ladder on their truck (105 feet!!) and one of them climbed onto the roof of our covered play area and got all the playground balls down. They tossed them to the cheering kids. Quite entertaining.

I'm very ready for the weekend.
I'm tired, slightly crabby and just all done with work stuff for now.
And my left knee hurts.

My knee hurts. My head is a little sunburned despite the judicious use of sunscreen... when I remember to do it.
Those memory lapses may be the problem.

Did I mention my knee hurts? Well, if I didn't, let this be official notice.
It hurts.

I guess that's to be expected since I've been walking around on it for the better part of five years without an ACL and it's all bone and no cartilage inside.
I bet yours would hurt, too. :)

I'm going to take a blog break, too.
If I have anything exciting to tell you, I'll stop by and leave a post, but I have too much other stuff going on right now to be tied to a daily post.

Yes, I know. Unheard of from someone who's been blogging almost every day for the past seven years.

Work is much more pleasant with the extra help I have when needed, some of the, hmm, busier kids are either on vacation or not attending right now, and some of the others have actually managed to internalize some of the rules and it's not quite as crazy as it was. In addition, we're on the downhill side of summer, and I'm grateful.

Can't wait to get back to my own site where most things are familiar and I know where to put my hands on anything I need in the back room.
So if you're worried or wondering what the hell is going on in the next month or so, feel free to email me.

I'm AmiMental. And you can find that @gmail.com

It's a lovely, cool evening. It's going to warm up again next week, but not too badly. And the forecast says cooler weather at night. I can definitely go for that.

It's a month until Matt and Amy's wedding. I'm excited about the new chapter in their lives. I am so glad they found each other. Matt said when we talked this evening that he hasn't gotten ANY RSVPs, and is starting to wonder what the hell is up with people.

So if you got a wedding invitation (I think that would be about three people who read here) RSVP!!! They need to plan!!

Goodnight and have a pleasant tomorrow.
Or next week.
Or month.
Whenever I get back.