Writing letters to friends. Mom. And (dis) organization.

My friend Tami is a letter writer. 

Paper and ink and decorated envelopes and pen pals all over the known universe. And possibly parts of the universe that are unknown. She sends and receives hundreds. I can't imagine, but it brings her joy and her joy makes ME smile, so there's that.

I like reading letters of the handwritten variety, but I don't write them. So I've never tried being a pen pal as an adult. Tried a few times as a kid and teen, but it didn't last.

However, I do correspond with a few friends via email. 
Turns out I have a lot to say now and then.

Today, for example, I wrote to an old friend I knew when we lived in Southern California. I've known her since 1983. We worked together, then became close friends. She's one of the very few people in my past that I work to stay in touch with. It's not that I don't care about others, there's just a special bond.

Her second baby and my first baby were due three days apart, but her daughter was a couple weeks early and Matt was a couple weeks late, so there's a month between them in age.

We lost contact for a bit, she sent me a card every year during the holidays and I failed to answer that mail every year. A couple years ago she sent one and included her phone number. So I texted her and we exchanged email addresses and now we're corresponding every once in awhile.

Also sent email to a friend whose daughter was in my second Girl Scout troop. We always got along well, although we're very different individuals. She's a decent person of integrity and her daughter was one of the coolest kids I've ever met. All grown up now, of course. She's married and living in Prague with her husband. 

My friend is currently living in Mexico but is planning to relocate to Portugal in the near future. 

I can't imagine making one international move. Forget two. They sold and gave away almost everything they owned to make the move, so at least they don't have to do that part again. But wow.

She explained some of the reasons they want to be in Europe, and they all made sense to me. Not that it matters, I'm not making their decisions and it's very unlikely that I'd ever go visit them. But yeah, that.

I sat down to answer those emails and ended up spending almost two hours doing so. Guess I had a lot to say.

Speaking of lots to say. I've been texting/messaging with my mom almost daily since Dad died. It's a lot easier for me, I don't like talking to anyone on the phone anyway. And when I call her or she calls me, her television is on so loud it rattles the fillings in my teeth. Then I have to scream myself almost into a hemorrhage to get her to turn the fucking thing down.

"What?? What??" she says, over and over.
"The television is too loud, Mom, can you turn it down, please?"
"What? What?"
"Please turn the TV down!!"
"What? What???"
"TURN. THE. TELEVISION. DOWN!!"
Jesus.

So she has her phone with her in her rehab place. Steve brought her a charger because she left hers in Boise when she left the hospital. But texting isn't going very well.
Tonight at 9:45 I asked her how she is feeling.
Her answer?
"Kit finished lunch awlholr ago"

I have NO clue what that means. Her responses, when she actually does respond, are very odd. Not coherent, not necessarily relevant to our conversation, and mostly she will start a chat and then say nothing.

Last night she said, "Hi."

I responded immediately. And nothing.

So I'm guessing that the anesthesia did not help with her dementia. It's also possible that she's had another 'small stroke' as they called it after the first one. I don't know. I did talk to her on the phone the other night, but she just repeated herself incessantly. I doubt she even remembers that we spoke.

Poor Mom. I don't think she's going to be able to go back home.

My sleep patterns are off again. My fault. Stay up late. Makes me too tired to get up early. Sometimes I have to get up early anyway. Then I feel like crap and need a nap. So I take a nap, then I can't go to sleep at 10 like a normal person, I stay up until midnight, then I can't get up early and I feel like crap and need a nap and them I can't go to sleep at 10.... well, that.

But this afternoon while I was trying to wake up from my nap (I don't set an alarm, I know I will have to pee within two hours of lying down, you can probably set your watch by it) I was suddenly thinking of cardboard weaving looms (image lifted from here). 

One can make a small pouch for a cell phone, pencils/erasers/crayons, little toys, whatever, with a cardboard loom. It's not a complicated process, once they learn the over under pattern most of them can do it. So I woke up thinking about cardboard, where to find the string I need etc, and realized that school starts in a month.

I've been mostly off all summer long, going in once a week to package and sort items for the following week of summer camp at two locations. Each project is bagged, labeled and sent to camp so the staff can just pull a bag out and do the project. I understand that some of the projects aren't so simple, that items our programming specialist says are 'already on site' sometimes are not on site, leaving staff to scramble a bit. But I'm doing the best I can.

It's also given me ideas about my own project prep here at home. I have big 2 gallon bags, it's an easy-ish matter to pull the items I need from my own warehouse-type environment, bag them up according to project and just haul the bag in.

But to do that, I need to finish the organization here. I have been working on it, and can actually see a small glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, but I have to admit that until last week, I really haven't done much around the house.

So I'm now in 'get things done' mode and hoping that attitude lasts.
Since there's just me to do it.

What are you doing? Please tell me you're doing something fun.

Phone it in...

You know, we're so accustomed to things like caller ID and phones that go everywhere with us that it's easy to forget that it hasn't always been that way. I don't miss those days, except for one thing... when you're pissed, tapping a little button to end the call isn't nearly as satisfying as slamming the phone into its cradle.

It hasn't been that long ago that a person was tied to the phone with a cord.

When I had my first baby, we didn't have a cordless phone. If the phone rang while I was giving him a bath or doing something at the other end of the house, I either ignored it or grabbed him and took him with me to answer the phone. No answering machine for us, either, although they were in existence by then.

Had our first answering machine in 1989. That was fun. I worked on a snarky message with the Tijuana Brass playing in the background. Getting the words to fit into the time allotted and then stop just as the music came to a crescendo was actually enjoyable, although I'm sure I should have been doing something else at the time. That's my usual operating system... do something when I should be doing something else.

So when I was a teenager, cordless phones and caller ID were years in the future. When one picked up the phone, there was a harsh honking noise instead of the musical dial tone. We had only rotary phones, too.



The blue rotary phone we had in the little tiny living room of our little tiny house was frequently disinfected, though. (Click on that link. Even though it's a digression, I promise it's worth it.)

In 1975, long before I met her, my old friend Donna had a baby girl.
Donna was still in high school when her daughter was born, but she was determined to be a good mother. She loved that little girl with her whole being.

When Anna was old enough to go to school, Donna worked late nights as a radio announcer/DJ  so she could sleep during the day while Anna was in school. That way she could get her ready for school, sleep, pick her up after school and be able to take her to events or to the park or just hang out with her.

She kept a phone in her bedroom and everyone knew not to call during the day. But she left it on so that if the school called or there was some kind of emergency with family, she'd be able to find out and handle things.

This worked very well until the day one of the local dental offices ended up with misprinted business cards. Instead of the phone number of the dentist, two digits were transposed and Donna's number appeared on the cards instead.

At first the few calls she got were easily handled, she just said the caller had the wrong number and gave them the correct one.

But the cards kept being handed out and handed out and handed out from the dentist's office. There was also a mass mailing.
Guess all those things happened before they'd noticed the error.

Apparently the mass mailing was a good investment for the dentist.
Donna's phone was ringing between 15 and 30 times a day while she was trying to sleep after working all night long.

So she called the dental office. The "lady" she talked to was less than helpful. Told Donna that it wasn't HER fault, that there was no way to go through thousands of business cards and fix the 'tiny' error and that she was sure that 'after a while' people would stop calling. And she hung up on her!

So Donna waited a couple weeks, during which the call volume actually increased. She called the office back one afternoon, and got the same person on the phone.

This time, the woman was pissed as hell that Donna had called her.
She acted like the entire situation was Donna's fault and told her, "It's not my fucking problem, stop calling, we have things to do here and don't have time for phone calls from people who are just calling to whine."

And the receptionist hung up again. (Donna's actual words when she was telling me this story were, "She slammed the phone down so hard I'm sure she broke the handset.")

So Donna decided to fix the issue herself.
When her phone began ringing at 7 AM, she started making appointments for the people who called in. She did not answer the phone pretending to be the dental offices, either. She answered, "Hello?" when it rang. No one seemed to notice.

She gave them all the first appointment of the day, whichever day it was.
So there were between 4 and 10 people showing up at 7:30 in the morning, saying they had an appointment.

She said she would have loved to be there in the office while all that was happening.

Her solution worked. She said she worked very hard to keep a professional voice when she was assigned to record the ad the dentist bought from the radio station.

"The business cards we've handed out over the last couple months contained an error. Our actual phone number is 123-4567. Please make a note of it! Thank you for your continued patronage."

Donna passed away several years ago.
I know she'd appreciate being remembered for this episode in history.

I'm ready to have things be finished. Really I am.

 

One of the reasons I try not to discuss political stuff unless I know someone pretty well is that so many people have a picture in their heads of what's real and right and are rabid when someone suggests a different viewpoint.

::sigh::

I've been chatting online with a group of women since 1998.
No, not a typo.
Way back in the days of AOL chat rooms and actual hosts, I hosted twice weekly chats in AOL's Homefront Hall, part of a forum dedicated to homeschooling.

We formed friendships based on common ground and 'watched' each other's children grow up and go on to their own lives. With the exception of two of us, everyone else is a grandma now, some of them have grandchildren who are 12 years old already. (insert obligatory 'wow, time flies' comment here)

And since my life is a series of digressions (gotta be the ADD way I do everything)... My own children have decided they don't want to have babies. I'm disappointed because I'd love to have grandchildren, but I've told my kids *multiple* times that having a baby 'cause your mom wants to be a grandma is  NOT a good reason to reproduce. Ha. I can't imagine smacking them over the head with it or showing any kind of disappointment.
I got to make my choices, I respect theirs.
Neither one arrived at the decision without a great deal of thought and discussion.
My kids are smart and capable.

I'd be a good grandma, though. Craft projects and cookie baking and really bad jokes. What's not to like?

So about those chat friends.
We had a great deal in common, but there were things we didn't agree on, too.
Politics and religion, the perennial favorites. Things like nutrition and being strict Vegan or eating whatever you want or (my personal philosophy pass the damn sugar) and curriculum (or no curriculum) etc. But there were so many things we liked about one another that long after AOL dumped their forums and chats we continued to catch up with each other once a week.

We've continued to do so. 22 years now that the four of us have stayed in touch. (Actually 5 of us, but one doesn't always manage to get to the chats, we all have lives and some are busier than others)

There have been marriages, divorces and grandchildren and cross-country moves. Job losses, loss of family members, financial difficulties, mental illness. We've supported each other through all of it, and some of us have even met each other in person.

Those 'imaginary friends' as my family has called them more than once, are as important to me as some of my friends who live nearby.
I am happy when something good happens for one of them, sad for them when things aren't going well. We text each other. Occasionally chat on the phone. I care deeply about each one of them.

Until recently, we've all managed to make it to our chats on Friday nights.

But one of my friends doesn't want to be there for awhile. She's not able to do political discussion without anger over the disagreements. I'm not actually certain about who she voted for, but she has so much going on in her personal life right now that any conflict is too much.

And it makes me sad.

I wish everyone could discuss issues instead of people.

I don't believe about half of the crap I hear from both sides. I know I'm not alone.

:::sigh:::

WHEN will this be over?

Retail Therapy

You've heard that term, I'm sure.
Referring to something like, 'when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping'. Ha.
Today was non-retail-but-still-shopping therapy.

Did some Goodwill Hunting with my friend Tami on Tuesday.
Tami on Tuesday...
Could be either a great novel or a girl band, don't ya think?

That's Tami on the left. I have no idea who the chick on the right is.

We went to two different Goodwill stores. We got up early to do it, I don't like shopping there when it starts filling up. I don't think that Tami hates crowds as much as I do, but she's a good sport. Picked her up at 8:45.

After a bit of shopping, we had lunch together. We got put in 'the quiet corner', but I am not sure why the guy who seated us thought we were going to be quiet.

Ha.

We always have a lot to talk about. Catch up on. But of course no personal details will show up here. :)

Drove past a furniture place advertising a chair/sofa combo for *only* $799.00.

I can't even imagine that.

Tami talked about someone she knows who redecorated her house a few years ago and shared the prices of the furniture etc.

We discussed being lousy consumers. I can't say whether or not Tami is a lousy consumer, but I really am, I check Goodwill first before I go to the regular store when I'm looking for things like craft supplies, towels, sheets, suitcases. Garbage cans and plastic bins and TV trays. Clocks and movies and kitchen gadgets.

I am sitting here in the momcave as I write. Looking around for everything in here that I've purchased from Goodwill stores. Books. Lots of books. Art supplies. The cubbies on my corner desk, the lamp that I repainted sitting just to the right of them. A pencil/pen carousel in front of that. The little cubby sort of thing that sits over the dvd player that my recently acquired cheap-but-not-from-goodwill smart TV sits on can be hooked up and all that. The entertainment center to the right of that that's going back to Goodwill soon... it was Matt's, I used it for ages but I want to put shelves in that spot now that Lyssa has moved out. The old TV is still sitting in the cubby, it's heavy and I haven't asked Eric to move it yet, but I need to take it to Goodwill, too. They have an electronics recycling service.

The bedspread and pillows on the bed. The plastic bins in the closet that hold a ton of things for work. Quite a few of those things, beads and toys and books and assorted crafty things came from Goodwill, too. Folded up behind the door, the card table I use for tie dyeing with my kids at work. The little dresser that sits underneath the corner desk, each drawer crammed full of CDs. A bunch of movies on dvd. The tall and comfortable swivel chair that sits in front of the desk. Paper and edging scissors. That's just this room.

Every room of the house has stuff in it that came from Goodwill. I wish I'd kept track of how much they cost vs how much retail would have been, but I suppose that might be sort of appalling, too, since I've been shopping at Goodwill for more than 20 years. And I rarely leave without buying at least one thing.

So while we were driving from there to here, we discussed my $7.99 jeans from Goodwill. The ones I bought last week were blue-tagged, meaning they hadn't moved from the sales floor in X amount of time, so were half price. Four bucks for a pair of jeans I'd pay at least $40.00 for in the store.

They're nothing exciting, either.
Just a pair of mom jeans with a little stretch and a reasonable price tag. Not worth 40 on my best day, but I only paid $3.99 for them, I can move, sit and stand in them all day long. What's not to like?

Picked up a lined windbreaker/raincoat, too. All my coats with hoods are either way too heavy or way too warm for spring rains. It's currently clicking around in the dryer, all the drawstrings are smacking the insides. I imagine I'll be removing the clunky plastic pieces from it, just didn't occur to me to do it before I put it in there.

So do you shop? Retail therapy? I find that getting a few really good deals can improve my outlook on life, at least temporarily.

I found a wastebasket for the Momcave today, too.

The one I had in here was, in the words of my Grandma Fern, 'no bigger than a fart bucket.' I don't know what that means, but I wish I could call Grandma and ask.

The new one is a heavy ceramic thing, embossed with ferns.. I wonder if that's a sign from Grandma?
Colored a soft blue and green.
Let me see if I can manage a photo here, don't go away.

Bigger than a fart bucket

Let's ramble, shall we?

I've been busy while I'm not blogging. Laundry. Always laundry. And dishes.
I've been making sure some sort of dinner is ready or close to ready when Eric comes home in the evening.

Except for last night. Eric cooked. Last night I had this craving for chili, and no one makes it like Eric does. Hot stuff. :)

Making dinner isn't a chore, it's something that makes me feel good. The job I've chosen has me out of the house in the evenings and that makes it so that I don't usually get to cook, so it's a novelty. At least for now.

I just walked in from the grocery store with enough groceries to get us past the holiday. I think. I can't think of anything else we will need before then.

I decided on lasagna for dinner this year. We usually do the huge Thanksgiving dinner. I cook all day long. Spend a little time the day before working on food, too. But Matt did that this year, we went to their house.

So I'd rather spend Christmas day with my husband and Alyssa, Matt, and Amy. I plan to make the lasagna on Saturday and put it in the fridge unbaked, then just throw it into the oven on Christmas. I'll have Matt and Amy bring a salad because they always want to bring something, and Lyssa said something about making a dessert.

I've mostly been avoiding engagement with all the politics on Facebook. I am not going to change anyone's mind. They're not going to change mine.

But I'm heartily sick of the implication that *I* am a racist.
Did you know that I'm a racist asshole? I was surprised, too.
Know why?
Because I don't like Obama.

Now tell me. Is it worth engaging with someone who's that stupid?
I *don't* like him. I don't think he's been good for this country.
But the reasons I feel that way have nothing to do with his color. Clueless politicians come in all colors. Whatever.

This morning my sister in law answered a rant on Facebook. Extrapolating from her posts, I'm pretty sure she voted for Trump. We all get to make choices, if you believe the bullshit, your vote actually matters, too. 

I don't like him, of course. In fact he makes me very nervous. What I've seen so far doesn't give me a lot of hope.

The person whose rant my sister in law answered was calling Trump 'rump'. 
She said, " seems people is taking having elected rump as permission to physically and verbally abuse someone"

I had to answer her.'Oh, you mean things like name-calling? I'm not a Trump fan, but I see this all the time. People call him names and then self-righteously tell everyone not to be abusive.'

No response. Not that I expect one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have some cleaning to do, although it's not as bad around here as it has been, thanks to the work we did this summer on tossing stuff out. Oh, there's still a lot more to be done, but I'm pleased with things so far.

I'm going to try to get enough done today that I feel justified in playing with tie dye tomorrow. It's been awhile and I'd like to try some of the new techniques I've been seeing. I also would like to try dyeing with some pastel colors. I like bold and bright, but sometimes I'd like something a little softer.
I have a lot of 'blanks'. Amy's grandma moved out of her hoarded house and I ended up with some big file boxes full of tshirts. Add my own tendency to hoard stuff like blanks and, well, there's a lot. I have a few friend I'm dyeing for, too.

Today though, it's lunch with Tami. I had to cancel the birthday lunch because of the crazy/icy roads and driveways. I can't afford to fall. ::shudder::


And because I have a lunch date, I am going to hit post and go get ready.
Hope you're having a good day and that you're not getting too crazy with Christmas preparations.

Psycho..er psychic flash. I had a psychic flash.

I picked Tami up Sunday morning a little after 10. The plan was to go to Goodwill before it got crowded, then hit the dollar store and then out to lunch.

As we drove from her house to Goodwill, I commented that I worry about running into Fluffy. That you know how people look back and say to themselves, "Oh, I should have said ____!"

That I was in no way ready to run into her because I simply don't know what to say or how to react.

I'm definitely not willing to make nice, let bygones be bygones, take the high road... fuck that and fuck her, too.
I don't care what that says about me.

I don't always hold a grudge, but when I've learned that I can't trust someone, I will never trust them again.

And there's no reason to be polite or decent to someone who is complicit in child abuse.

When you scrape away all the layers of the stupid shit she's done, the mean-spirited way she treated everyone who worked so hard to build their programs, the lies... well, there's still the fact that she was/is willing to let her asshole friend be emotionally abusive to children. She knew what a bitch Twatwaffle is. She stood by and allowed the abuse to continue. She's still allowing that piece of crap free rein to run her program and be alone with children.

She's made no effort to put a stop to it.
And that? I won't forgive.

Regardless... shitty person. Ruined my job. Let's not forget that she also shit all over Lyssa by proxy, too. Since of course she doesn't drive and could not continue at my school without me.

I'd prefer never seeing her simpering face again. The whole semi-helpless, hand-flappy, 'I'm just a dewy-eyed girl from Texas' thing that so infuriates me. She does it to manipulate people, of course.
I'm sure that had something to do with her ability to fool the big fish.
Some men are easy to lead around, if ya know what I mean.
Blech.

When we pulled into the parking lot at Goodwill, I told Tami, "I think that's the bitchmobile!" She said, "Do you know the license number?"
I did not.

We parked, got out of the car and went to the entrance. Goodwill tried to protect me by not opening the automatic door. But some women were coming out and the door opened for them.

As Tami grabbed a shopping cart, I looked in through the opening inner doors and saw her.

Fuckin' Fluffy, with her stupid cow face and Twikki hair.

And in utter disgust and more than a little pissed off, I told Tami, "I can't go in." 

We reversed direction, went back to the car. Drove to the dollar store after once again passing the Bitchmobile, aka Cuntcar and getting a good look at the license plate. I don't remember the whole thing, but it ends in ZZ. Close enough. I doubt there are many cars of that type with that license plate.

So we went to the dollar store and I found the plastic tumblers I needed for our snowglobe project. We wandered around in there a few minutes, probably at least 10 to 15. Got back in the car and drove back to Goodwill.

Where the goddamn Bitchmobile was still in the parking lot.

Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaackkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!!!


So instead of going in, we went out for lunch.
We always have lots to talk about, and this time was no exception.

I love my friend.
I love that we can tell each other things that we'd never say to anyone else.

And she's a good sport, too. When we finished talking eating, it was a little after one. We'd planned for her to be home by one, she has some books to write, after all.

But she said, "I still want to go to Goodwill."

Of course it was much more crowded and noisy and overwhelming by then, so I didn't get to really look as much as I'd like to. But I'm glad Tami's such a good sport.

And now I know the license plate (or enough of the license plate) that I will not be surprised if she's inside a store or whatever and I see her car.

No word yet on what I will say if I am already in and that rotten old cow comes in later.

Am I better?

My temperature regulator seems to be working a little better this evening. I was having a hard time deciding whether to be hot or cold or hot or cold all night.

I was able to take my friend to lunch today. This makes me very happy. Lunch itself wasn't a thrill, my chicken teriyaki was veriyucki. Haha, see what I did there? It was dry and burned on the edges. Sort of disappointing. But I wasn't starving. See, I left my house an hour early so I could stop at sprawlmart and pick up a few little things.

I got a new slow cooker. Tossed the one we've had for 20 years in early August, we used it one afternoon and it got super, super hot on the bottom. I was concerned that it might actually melt the counter top or start a fire. Neither option was a good one.

I bought a huge box of gallon sized freezer bags as well. The kind with the little tab on it so it's easier for kids to zip closed. My program is going to be in charge of recycling markers for the whole school. My little blurb went into the school newsletter on Friday afternoon, and an email I wrote to school staff is being sent out Monday morning. So all the classrooms get a bag that says 'colorcycle' on it, it improves the visibility of my program and the kids will enjoy pitching in and counting marker and participating.

Oh oops, I have digressed. I didn't enjoy my food but I wasn't starving because I had a chocolate milkshake. I hadn't intended to. But I've been sick and a nice thing to go along with the fever and aches is a migraine, right?

I took a migraine pill on my way out the door this morning. It actually started to work quickly for a change, but about the time I paid for my stuff and left the store, I was getting nauseous. I had figured I'd have time to pick Tami up and get to the restaurant before the migraine pill started to bug me. But I was wrong.

So the detour to Burger King for the milkshake.
I still made it to Tami's house right on time, but I felt a need to apologize to her for having a milkshake.

When I got home about 1:30 or so, I was starting to feel bad again. I was all clammy and fever-y and headache-y.
Finally gave up and took a short nap about 3. I'm not sure it helped, but I'm not shivering over the heater tonight, so we'll call it a maybe?

Tomorrow morning I have to drive over to the office and turn in my time sheet and my expense report. I am wondering how that's going to go, I bought what I needed this month and saved the receipts. At my interview I stated that was my intention and the guy who hired me seemed to have no issue with that. My 'manager' person was sort of horrified when I asked her a question earlier this month about my badge. I was required by the school district to procure a badge and undergo a criminal background check that was a bit more involved than the one I had been through with my old school.

It was 25 bucks to be fingerprinted, 59 to do the background check, and I drove a total of six miles between the district office and the county office and back. They're paying for mileage, so I added that to my little expense sheet.

I'm expecting someone to want to ask me about what I spent that money on. I'm expecting raised eyebrows over the 30 dollars worth of plastic cups, too.

What do they do with those?
This. They build their own cells. And they collaborate and have a great time engineering some amazing structures. We'll see how supportive my new job really is when I turn in the receipt for this. :)

You never know

It's a public blog.
You never know who's reading.
Apparently I never know who's reading, either. :-D

A friend who had her daughter in my all-homeschooler Girl Scout troop emailed me on Thursday morning to offer to drive me to my interview in downtown Portland. She had read on my blog that I was going.

I tried to talk her out of it.
Told her that it would be hours and hours. Traffic. Parking. Waiting for me. Did I mention the traffic?

I told her I wouldn't blame her for withdrawing her offer. Asked her to consider riding the Max with me... then she wouldn't have to drive in that crap either.

But no. She said the traffic did not upset her, that she was fine with it and that she'd be here at noon to pick me up.

You know... curbside service.

And about five minutes early, Stephanie was outside my house.

I still can't believe it.
I told her on the way downtown that I have a lot of friends, but a VERY short list of people I would do something like that for. It's just way too stressful for me. We caught up a little on our kids. She's a mother in law now, too. She also approves of the girl her son married. I still can't believe he's old enough to BE married. Time's just screamin' by, isn't it?

So she came at noon. Interview was at 1.
Of course I didn't want to be late.
Again.

::sigh::

We were downtown in about a half hour, leaving us with 15 minutes or so to kill. Drove around the block a couple times, then found a shady spot to park the last little bit.

I was a little early. They were apparently still eating lunch, but came to get me about five minutes before one.

The interview was long. They had a huge list of questions. I had a huge list of answers. It's hard to explain, I am not trying to impress anyone. Either the skills I have are good, marketable and what they're looking for, or they're not. I don't embellish my resumé, I don't stretch the truth, I just present myself in as straightforward a manner as possible. Easier that way. More... me. On the other hand, of course I want to impress them. I'd like them to hire me. I think this is the best fit out of all the places I've applied. They seem to think a lot like I do.

I completed a unit study about insects and arachnids this week and just made three copies of everything in it. Dropped two of them off at summer camp this morning, one for each camp they're running, and kept the third one. When I got the email telling me some of what to expect at the interview, one of the things was this:

Be prepared to discuss your experiences working with K-5 youth including group management and designing curriculum
Have in mind a lesson or activity you would implement and be ready to explain your process for planning and delivery.

I was glad I had brought it with me. I explained a bit of it, telling them that I really like having parents involved in the activities the kids are doing. I do a question of the day during the bug unit and parents and kids together go home and research the answers.

I also brought a couple activity plans that I'd built from scratch. This organization actually rewards you for being able to write and implement curriculum. They liked it. One of them (I was interviewed by two site directors... you know, people who actually do my job!) said she loved it and would like to do some of the activities on it.

The company I'm currently working for is moving into the territory of top-down, one-size-fits-all everyone must learn _____ for their sites.

I find that depressing, I've always been so glad to have a bit of freedom for the kids. I feel like having them sit and do 'school' after school is a terrible thing to do to them and I've been worrying over it. I can't turn my program into a cookie cutter program. I just don't operate that way.

Anyway, I think the interview went okay. I have no idea who else they're interviewing, no idea what the competition looks like. But I feel okay about it.
If I have to leave my current placement, this is where I'd like to go.

Cross your fingers.

And thank you, Stephanie. I appreciate you taking your whole afternoon to drive me downtown and then deliver me back home. I was not nervous about your driving, I wasn't stressed out over traffic, and I really, really appreciate what you did for me today.

If I get the job (and if I have to leave my current one, this is the one I want) I'll make you and your hubby matching tie dyed shirts.. your choice... to wear in public or pajama shirts that come to your knees. And socks.

:) 

Oh yeah? What about ME?

So Joseph came home from rehab on Thursday.

It's not easy. And Tami is still trying to write (as THE money earner for the family, she sort of has to) and take care of him. Without giving personal details, I will just say that she has to take care of ALL his needs, even the private ones, and that he isn't the same person he was before the stroke.

A large personality change has happened, and she's left caring for someone who, while not a complete stranger, isn't the man she was married to a month ago. She's doing what most people do when faced with this... coping as best she can, going on with living and trying to adjust to this new person in her life.

She wrote on Facebook today that she had no idea it would be so hard.

One of the responses she got made me want to reach through the screen and slap the person who wrote it, although that's probably not the right way to handle it. I actually don't care what the right way is... if I were able to reach through and slap, I would be happy to do so anyway. This person wanted to 'stress the positive' and pointed out that money has been donated, that people have done things to help and that he's on the road to recovery.

Well, sure. Those are all positive things.

She went on to compare Joseph's stroke to her own back surgery and how hard her husband had to work to take care of her and how she *thought* she had friends but then she learned who her real friends were.

So because she's had a hard time with a surgery, that means that Tami's not allowed to vent? To say what she's feeling?

Like I said... urge to slap.

Tami needs to be able to talk about what's bothering her. She needs to be able to do so without trying to carefully choose her words. She is entitled to say whatever she wants to say. I would think that the person who was so nasty would just click that little button and remove herself from Tami's FB friends instead of commenting on how Tami is allowed to feel.

Thankfully other people have said they think Tami should feel free to vent. To talk about what has happened and what's happening now, using whatever words she wants to describe her current situation.

Part of being someone's friend is listening to them. Being there when they need to talk.

And not interrupting someone's narrative about what's bothering them to say something like, "Oh you think that's a big deal? Well let me tell you what happened to ME!"

I'm not going to put all this on Tami's facebook page. I did comment that she should feel free to say whatever she needs to say, but I'm not going to engage in an argument or disagreement with a stranger on the internet.

Especially when I know it would escalate quickly and I'd call her names.
Grr.

Saying Goodbye

We've lived in our home for 20 years in November.

It's the first house we've purchased. Actually purchased is past tense and according to the bank that holds our mortgage, we have many more payments to make.

Our neighbors, Ron and Jan have been there since the beginning. Jan gave Beanie babies to Lyssa along with some cash for watering her flowers a couple times while they were on vacation. Lyssa had a great time visiting over there when she was younger, Jan had adopted two pug puppies. They were a lot of fun to play with and seriously the friendliest dogs I've ever met.

Jan was approaching retirement when we moved in, she is almost the same age as my mom. They have been wonderful neighbors, keeping an eye on the house when we were out of town, asking us to do the same for them when needed.

When I had the failed ACL replacement surgery and my family left me to go to Louisiana to see Eric's dad, I checked in with Jan twice a day to let her know I was doing okay. She was prepared to come over and let herself in if she did not hear from me. I had given my mom's phone number to her just in case, but she didn't end up having to use it.

They've been good neighbors. They're good people.

Jan stopped by in mid-April and told me that they were moving. She had received a medical diagnosis that was going to make things difficult for her to live at home without some help. They were invited to move in with one of their kids. He built a brand new home about 45 minutes away on the other side of the metro area. They were going to give them a whole floor to themselves. They did the smart thing and decided to go.

We had a short conversation, I was in the middle of something.
The next week I had some crazy intestinal thing (AGAIN) and didn't want to go expose her to it. She had enough going on with some cognitive issues and other stuff.

The following week was crazy as well.
And they were gone by May 1st. I have heard activity over there quite a bit, I know they were getting the house ready to sell, but when I've looked through the fence or walked/driven past, it's never Jan, just a bunch of guys doing stuff.
I never got over there to have a good conversation with her. Never got to tell her how much I appreciated her kindness over the years. I have felt very bad about that, because our last conversation was cut short and I didn't want her to leave and think I didn't care. But she was gone.

So I woke up this morning thinking of her. I have several phone numbers, including her sister. Their parents were around until about five years ago, and died in their mid-90's. I had contact information for several family members because of the whole 'watch-the-house-we're-going-to-see-my-folks'.

When I woke up completely, I resolved to pick up the phone and call Jan's sister this morning. Tell her that I would like to have an address for Jan so I could send her a letter or a card or something to let her know how much I appreciated her as a neighbor over the years.

And today, while I was getting ready to zip off to the grocery store, some nutjob on a bike was casing the neighborhood. He slowed waaay down in front of my fence, looking through into our overgrown back yard. He paused by the alley, looked around and then went down the alley. He stood by the back fence, casually not looking into my yard except for when he was.

Yes, I did call the police.

So I opened up my back door drapes and LOOKED at him. He bent down. 'Oh, just tying my shoe!'  About a minute later when the police car came around the corner he got back on his bike and took off in the opposite direction. I'm sure he was, well, shopping. Here's hoping he picks an easier target.

Anyway, although this seems like a tangent, bear with me. We're now getting to the point.

When I left the house, instead of driving in my usual direction, I went around the corner to drive past Jan's house, wanting to see if he ended up over there. I know the place is for sale and was sitting empty.

And sitting in the driveway was their white car. Standing next to it, Jan. I pulled the car over and got out to talk to her.

The house had sold. In two days. (Hot real estate market right now.. really. We should sell and get the hell out of the city.) They were there so Ron could fix a couple electric outlets and hand over the keys.

So I was able to give her a hug. Talk with her a little. I had not realized that her pugs had been put down. One of them had a sudden paralysis and was dragging her back legs, unable to walk. She had been deteriorating a little bit at a time, and woke up one morning and couldn't get up anymore. The other dog (they were littermates, sisters) was showing signs of the same problems and not getting around very well. Jan said she thought, and the vet agreed, that putting one down would probably kill the other one in a matter of weeks, they were so close and had been together all their lives. So both Tasha and Taffy were put down at the same time. She wiped away a few tears while telling me. I'm not embarrassed to say that I did, too.

I got her new address.
Because of the cognitive impairments that are happening as a result of her illness, she is no longer able to be on the computer. But a card or letter? Those things will brighten her day, she said.

So I am going to hit post on this and then go draw a card for her. I'll write her a letter to say all the things I didn't remember to say this morning when I saw her.

I'll miss having them there.
They sold the house to a music teacher from Stevenson, Washington.
I don't know if he's retired or what.
Hoping they will be good neighbors.

Dyeing here..

I am not sure where my camera is.
I am pretty sure I could find it quickly but then I would have to find the charger and that might happen within a half hour or so... might not.

But I didn't go find it before taking these pictures with my phone, so the quality of the photos isn't great. It's actually terrible quality. Sorry.

I spun the soda ash moisture out of the shirts this time (used the spin cycle on the washer) and as a result, I didn't get the dye saturation I wanted. I want to try this same design again, only... better.

I still have all the dye mixed and a ton of shirts just waiting for my attention.

This is my first effort with this type of design, and as always, I learned from it. I will improve on it next time. I have never used black dye before, it's notoriously difficult to get a true black.

The first two shirts pictured were heat set, meaning after I cooked dinner last night, I waited until the oven was almost-but-not-quite-too hot to touch, put the ziploc bags into a pan and slid them in and shut the oven door for the night. It seems that the heat set did its job, the black is deeper on the two shirts I tried that with. So that's definitely something I will do again.
The one with the heart is mine, I didn't think Joseph would want a heart on his shirt. :)

He only has a little more than a week to wear them at rehab, he's going to be home on the 19th as long as everything goes according to plan. I'm happy to hear it, since of course he not only survived the stroke, he will be able to walk. Therapy will continue for him at home for awhile, too. I'm still hopeful that he will make a full recovery. If anyone can, it would be him. I know he's very motivated to come back.

Anyway. The shirts are below. And I'm outa here, lots to do before bedtime.

Well shit.

Not a whole lot to report, let's go with stream of consciousness, shall we?

Good news. Joseph has been moved to a rehab place and will be working hard on his recovery. I'm making up a care package. A lot of what I'm doing will be a little time consuming, so I'm starting tomorrow with a goal of getting it all done by the weekend so I can make sure he gets it sooner rather than later. Not going to say what's in it just yet since Tami reads here occasionally and I'd like her to be surprised, too.
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I've had a headache for four days. I'm glad to have migraine medication, but I don't love the side effects. The pain in my brain goes away for awhile, then comes back. Had an epic race with the medication on Sunday, wasn't sure if it would take effect before I threw up or not. Thankfully, the medicine worked and I didn't barf.

But the damn headache just won't give up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have a really cool bruise on my right ankle. You can see where the injection went in, then there's a sort of half-flower design all in reds and purples. My sock covers it. And I don't spend a lot of time looking at my ankles, either. So when I spotted it on Sunday, I was quite surprised. It doesn't hurt, though. Well, the bruise doesn't. The ankle still does. Although being off my feet has been very helpful since school got out. A lot less pain in my knee and my ankle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have had occasion to drop in at summer program twice now. Once on day 1 and once on day 7.

I am not impressed. It looks so drab. Uninspiring. We always had SO many decorations and there was such a fun environment. This is... generic. So unlike the usual. The things that we've built our reputations on. We have worked so hard to build this summer program and they've taken it and shit on it and ruined it in one season.

Day one, even though we TOLD them that we always go over numbers (15 kids) by 7:15 AM, they chose not to schedule a 2nd person until 8:30. And the person who opened that first day had 16 kids waiting outside the door at 6:30 in the morning.

The person who was to show up second happened to come in early early. Otherwise they would have been operating outside legal ratios much longer.

I ran into Fluffy coming in as I was leaving that day. Called her on it. "Once again, we told you something and you didn't listen. I don't know why we bother, really."

She was quite offended, not that I give a shit.
She texted me later with 'just to clarify, we were not out of ratio'. So she was offended AND is a liar.
Surprise, surprise.
(pants on fire!!!)

Fluffy Jr planned summer without the input of veteran staff. She planned it badly. But they didn't want our input. They played games with that bogus application, then deliberately didn't tell us who would be working until almost too late to find summer employment. They're working on driving out the veteran staff so she can have her cavalcade of cunts in charge. It's working, too. I know some people who have been with the company for a LONG time who will not be returning in the fall.

I found out that she has been lying to the custodian and principal, too. She told them the reason that Sunshine and Carey aren't working over summer is because they 'stole' the hours last year and it just wasn't fair, so they 'had' to do it this way.

I'm sure she flapped her hands helplessly and tried to look earnest.
They're not buying it, either.
They don't like her. And are making phone calls over her head. And over the head of the person I talked to earlier this year, too.

Parents are not happy. They're also making phone calls. If they call Fluffy, she won't be passing the information on. It's my understanding that the phone number for the boss of the big fish has been given out.

I went to summer site on Tuesday this week. Needed to drop off some of the craft projects I made for the unit study they're doing. And some other supply items.

There were FIVE adults on site for 19 kids. They quibble over buying markers for our programs and bitch when someone stays an extra 10 minutes past legal ratio... but they are way overstaffed for summer? And of course they're Fluffy's friends.

GodDAMN I hate that woman.

I lost respect for her quite some time ago, but my feelings didn't move into active hatred until I learned that she was not only allowing someone to emotionally abuse children, she protected her and made it possible for that twatwaffle to continue doing so.

And of course has told so many lies that I'm sure she can't possibly keep them all straight. If everyone she has lied to confronted her at once, she'd have a difficult time of it. I know that eventually that stuff comes back to bite you in the ass, but I am a little tired of waiting for that to happen.The kids were so excited when they saw me. They mobbed me. One of them has been with us a couple years, a few of them are 'my' kids. One of the boys begged me to stay when he found out I wasn't going to be working.

"Why??"
So I explained about having surgery and that my doctor wasn't going to allow me to work for the summer.

The look on their faces made me feel so bad. And Dave told me sadly, "I don't like it here. It's not fun like it was before. I wish you were going to be here. I don't like our new teachers."

Then he pointed. "And that one, I don't think she likes us at all."

It was that stupid twatwaffle. I couldn't tell him that he's correct, that she hates children and that I have no fucking clue why she still has a job. This is just disgusting. It really is.

I can't do anything about it. I have two unit studies for the kids, I was asked to do them way back in April. I wish I'd said no. But since I said yes, I worked to make them very hands-on and entertaining. Not school work at all. I use the total immersion method. So for the unit on trees and birds, there are several things to make and take, a CD with bird calls on it, lots of things to touch (big slabs of wood so they can count the tree rings, different leaves to identify) and model magic to make birds or whatever they want. Lots of games to play to learn about birds, venn diagrams for the teacher to draw while kids shout out answers. I started it by telling the teacher to 'sit the kids at a table... and sit with them. No need to tower over them. They already know you're in charge.'

I doubt they'll do it that way, Twatwaffle is a power tripping asshole. But I tried.

Anyway, it was awfully hard to walk away when kids were begging me not to go. One of them even had tears in his eyes.

If I weren't having surgery, I would be working. Even though I hate those assholes and their asshole games, I would be there for the kids. I'm very sorry that I can't be. Twatwaffle was scheduled to work in the other district all summer because Fluffy and Fluffy Jr knew that we would be watching her every move. Now that we're not there, they've moved her to the location closest to her.

And she's running a day care business out of her home, too!! So competing with the company while she is working for the company.

Have I mentioned how much I dislike these people?
They can't be gone soon enough for me.
I really hate to be the one who has to leave.

What *is* 'expected'?

You've heard the phrase, 'as well as can be expected'. Right?

So what does that mean, exactly?

"Fred was doing some crazy acrobatics and crashed his bicycle into the garbage truck, which caused a cascade of cans and torrents of filth to bury him about six inches deep in the middle of the street, after which the truck backed over his right leg. But he's doing as well as can be expected."

Who's expecting it? Why are they concerned? Do they know Fred? Are they familiar with how he's usually doing? How do they know it's expected? Who told them? Have they seen a lot of cases of rubbish-obscured cyclists? Perhaps the other cyclists they've seen buried in filth have been substandard and recovered much more slowly than an amazing biker like Fred.

Or, you get the armchair bike-watcher who doesn't want you to get your hopes up that Fred is going to come back Freddier-than-ever. They're more than happy to say, when Fred is once again on the bike, doing his crazy road tricks, "I guess I was wrong. Fred recovered much better than I thought he would."

Because that way, they haven't set you up for failure. If you expect the worst, but then the best happens, you'll feel great. And I'm sure they will, too.

So that's the news. Joseph is doing as well as can be expected. Right now, they just don't know for sure. I think they're saying things with a slightly negative slant so that everyone isn't expecting miracles.

I am, of course, hoping he can get back on his bike and start doing crazy tricks again.

Or, in his case, start tinkering with the VWs he loves so much and prove everyone wrong about his long term prognosis.

I have spent many hours thinking about the whole family. I have never felt so useless.

What can we do?

My lovely friend Tami, who is truly the most generous and giving person I have ever known, has had more than her fair share of shitty things happen in her life.
Lots of her own health issues. In fact, it's I think three weeks tomorrow since she had knee surgery. I know firsthand how much fun that isn't. Three weeks isn't long enough to really be recovered, trust me on this.

Is she home, relaxing and taking care of herself? No.
No, she is currently staying at the hospital on a cot in her husband's room.

Joseph, Mr. Healthy Food/take care of yourself, had a stroke this week.
He is in very good health. None of the usual suspects. It just... happened.

I'm not sharing any details, because it's not my story and I'm not trying to put personal information out there.

There isn't anything I can do to fix it.
I don't believe in a god, so prayer is a useless thing as far as I'm concerned.
I can offer to drive them places. I can make some dinners. I can offer moral support.

Tami posted what had happened on Facebook. She shares small updates from time to time. In answer to one of her posts, a FB friend tagged a mutual friend who has a food service business and that friend remarked about cooking for them at a discount. Something about how she'd match half price or something. I was so pissed off that I couldn't go back and re-read it.

I refrained from making any remarks on Tami's FB page.

I would have said something like, "Someone's family crisis should not be considered a business opportunity for you. You are crass and lack empathy. Shame on you."

I was really unreasonably angry about it (I ranted about it approximately 47 times in the 24 hours or so after I read it) so it's probably good that I didn't say anything. Facebook isn't a good place to do that anyway. Although when I shared it with Eric, his response was quite, er, colorful. Apparently I'm not the only person who found it offensive.

I realize that there are some people who don't cook. Or would want to send a meal but can't afford to send meals at full price. I get that. It just felt wrong to me then and still does now. I felt defensive for my friend. In the general scheme of things, it's actually a fairly minor thing, that 'I will do meals for half price'.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Edited to add... those ought to be some damn good meals, as its EIGHTY DOLLARS for ONE MEAL for a family of four.
I take it back. It's not a minor thing. It's insulting and if the person really gave a shit, she would sign up and make a meal. It's not that difficult.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think the real source of my anger isn't someone who's oblivious to the idea of compassion anyway. I'm angry because it's a crappy thing to happen to anyone, but it seems much worse to me because these are the nicest people I know. They reach out to other people and do things for them all the time. They care. They are truly generous and kind and giving. And this is what they get in return?

So I sit here on this Sunday morning, wishing I could fix things. Of course there is no way for me to do that. I can only love my friends and hope that Joseph makes a full recovery. From what I hear, he's determined to do so and has already started working hard at it.

I can cook a few dinners.
I can drive.
I have a couple other ideas to at least make them smile during this tough time.

But you know, it's not fair. It just isn't.

Updates

Lyssa arrived safely at her destination.
I didn't sleep deeply last night until I got that text saying she was on the ground. I immediately texted her back to let me know when she arrived at his house, but she forgot until this morning. I'm sure she was wiped out, it was a long day and traveling always makes a person tired, I think. It was a relief to hear from her, though. We texted a bit today. Hope she texts tomorrow, I will be texting her a lot, too.

I may have been slightly tired this morning. I felt like I'd been hit by a truck, really. And I've BEEN hit by a truck before. It's not a fun experience.

I visited the 'go get a 2nd opinion' doctor this morning.
He said I do need surgery, but not the horrendous 14 week recovery surgery. So that's good news. I am not sure yet what's going to be done, and have to go back to my regular guy and discuss, so I'm not sure what will happen or when.

I am really trying to just get through the rest of the school year.

Tami had surgery today to fix a little problem. It's not a fun thing, getting your knee operated on, but hopefully it will fix the issues she's been having and give her some relief. I was glad to get the text from Joseph telling me she was alive and well. She texted me this evening, too. If one can sound tired in a text, that would be her. Get better fast, Tami. :)

Mabel did okay at my site today, although she really is very physically incapable she's kind to the children and has a sense of humor. She seemed to enjoy hanging out with us. I'll have her with me until the last day of school apparently.

One of my little K guys LOVES making things. So when we have a craft, he's super excited. It was his last afternoon with me, his grandparents are coming to town, and his dad came to pick him up before we made our craft. He burst into tears. His dad ended up playing on the playground for about a half hour with his little sister so David could make a bug out of a milk jug lid.

So that's what's up.
I can't talk about some of the work stuff, but once again the shit's about to hit the fan. This time it has nothing to do with me, but I'll be on the sidelines eating popcorn, believe me.

Playing Catch up

I took Tami out to lunch on Saturday.
I don't even remember the last time we actually went somewhere together.

It's not that we don't want to hang out.
It's just hard because life. Happens. All. The. Time.

It was nice, though.
We had so many things to talk about. We sat in the restaurant for two hours and discussed, well, stuff.

Most of those things are things I can't write about here. :) And Tami and I will be best friends forever... we know too much.

It's a good thing to have a friend who understands, isn't it?

And I decided that life can wait occasionally. I think we need to do this every month. What do you think, Tami? :)

Surprise

I had a crappy night last night. Headache, migraine pill, the resulting up-every two-hours-to-pee-because-of-the-migraine-pill parade, and an early awakening that, despite heroic effort on my part, I wasn't able to beat. I tried. I did. I wanted to go back to sleep. I think I did manage about 10 minutes just before it was time to get up.

Had a date with Tami.

So what did I do? Did I get into the shower and start getting ready? Oh hell no. I pulled a big pajama shirt out of the soak bucket and dyed it.

It was dyed, washed and dried in 2 hours and in her hands.

She was surprised. I was, too. I usually leave the shirts in the dye for at least 24 hours, which is what one does 'for maximum dye retention'. But I really, really wanted to surprise her with something fun.

What do you think?
Matt says the back of the shirt 'looks like a bacterial infection'. But what does he know? :)

Kindness

Denette's mom, my Aunt Laurel, has been in an assisted living for a few years. She isn't able to take care of herself, and Denette can't take care of her, either. I went to visit her when I was in Phoenix in March, and was sorry that I couldn't spend more time hanging out with her. It was deliberately planned to be a short trip for me, just a long weekend from work, so I only saw her once while I was there.

Afterward, I asked Tami if she'd be interested in sending cards/letters to Laurel. Tami has something like 10 million pen pals, give or take, and writes and receives literally hundreds of letters every year. I don't know where she finds the time to do all she does. No wonder she's swamped all the time, huh?

Tami, predictably, said yes. She knew that Laurel probably would not be able to write letters in return, but was willing to send some anyway. I have been sending cards and letters, too. It's something that I know is very important to my aunt, and worth the little bit of time it takes for me to do it.

Laurel couldn't believe that a stranger would send her mail, but she really appreciated it. She emailed me (before her computer bit the dust) and talked about how wonderful it must be to have a friend like Tami. She's right about that. :)

So Laurel fell a couple weeks ago and broke some bones in her lower leg/foot. Had to have an emergency surgery in the middle of the night. After being in the hospital for about six days, she was moved to a rehabilitation home.

Denette is swamped right now with her granddaughter moving in/her job and other personal things and isn't able to go see her mom every day.

I asked Tami if she thought any of her pen friends would send a card or postcard to my aunt. She put the word out on one of her Facebook groups.

I got a text Saturday saying that one of her friends lives close to my aunt and was going to go visit her.

When I got home, there was an email in my inbox with a photo of my aunt, a stranger and a huge bouquet of flowers.
How kind and amazing is that?

Someone who doesn't know me or my aunt, but wanted to do something nice.

So I emailed the person who took flowers to my aunt. A complete stranger who did a random act of kindness because I have an amazing friend.

Thanks, Tami.

Treats

I was the recipient of a couple Amazon gift cards recently.
Spent them both on art supplies.

I bought a set of colored graphite pencils from Derwent that are really amazing. You can shade with them as you would do with traditional graphite, they smudge with a blending stick. You can color with them and leave them as is. You can add a bit of water on a brush and the color that's embedded in the graphite miraculously brightens up and pops. They're really cool. They aren't something I would ordinarily spend money on, either. And usually when I get gift cards or extra money, I spend it on practical things.

I also bought a set of watercolor pencils from the same manufacturer. They're gorgeous in the case... haven't opened them yet, they just arrived today.

Now I have to actually spend some time drawing. I am on the lookout for a specific type of desk to put in the living room so I can sit in there with my man and draw while he watches television.

We're officially old farts. About to live in a house with no children for the first time in over 27 years. I figured we ought to spend a little time together in the evenings. :)

I kept missing the UPS guy last week or the week before, can't remember. I finally figured out that I should have my items shipped to the school. There's always someone there to sign for the package.

The kids have been pretty wild. It finally occurred to me this afternoon that DUHHHHH it's HALLOWEEN!!! So that's why they're so wild. They're excited.

I left work early today. Had my 2nd person close for me, she needs a few extra hours and Matt was here. I like having a little extra time in the evenings to sit here and draw, write, pay bills and just... relax.

My job isn't horribly strenuous, but of course there's the knee. I think because my body is constantly trying to heal itself and failing, it makes me tired. I don't know how much weight I've lost since the beginning of May, but it's definitely noticeable now. It has helped me a lot with the inflammation in other areas of my body/joints, but hasn't done shit for the knee that has nothing but bone in it. Ah well.

I'm going to post this, get a shower, and then sit here and draw until bedtime. At 9. And tomorrow's FRIDAYYYYYYYY!

Also. Happy Anniversary today to my good friends Tami and Joseph.
They're relatively newlyweds, they've only been married 32 years, but it seems to be working out so far. I think they're going to manage to stay together. :)

Eric and I have an anniversary on Saturday. We won't be doing anything special to celebrate on Saturday, but we do have a trip to the coast planned in the spring sometime.

So I ran into an old friend...

I didn't hear my telephone ringing today while I was out and about. While Eric and I were grocery shopping, I pulled it out to see if I'd gotten any text messages from Lyssa. She sometimes texts me something she'd like for me to pick up at the store, and I like to check before we're done so I can get it if she wants it.

Instead, I had a missed call. And when I looked at it, it said Shan. This is Shan. She had expected to pass through Portland today, but didn't know she'd be sitting in the airport for a long time. She ended up staying because another person was flying in (they're attending a conference) and she was going to drive with her to Southern Oregon.

So she wondered if we could meet up.

Well yeah!!

I got out there about 4. We sat and talked for a couple hours. Showed her where the airport car rental was and got back into my little car and came home.

It's fun to meet those imaginary friends.