Summer Camp

Some kids go to ballet camp. Some kids go to basketball camp. This week these kids are at Grandparents Camp.

 

After blueberry pancakes and a game of Yahtzee, the day began with the youngest (who has never been here) giving us a tour of the grounds. This included the wagon, the shed, the lawnmower, the birdhouses her siblings made years ago, and the back acreage.

 

 

 

 

This was followed by a trip to the local box craft store for birdhouses. A family tradition. Add a little flarp and a Beatle's sing-a-long and the 30 minute drive flies by.

 

 

The birdhouse adventure went freestyle as the oldest began painting our gate, the middle one wanted to mow grass and the youngest kept at her birdhouse.

 

The next bit of entertainment came in the form of the laundry chute. I can remember my fascination with Aunt of Sophanne's laundry chute but hers went from the second floor to the basement as opposed to just being a hole in the floor/ceiling.

 

 

 

 

Then the knitting session commenced.

 

 

 

I declare Day Three of Grandparent Camp a smashing success with pasta making, four wheel rides and a giant birthday party on tomorrow's agenda.

 

 

Pleasant Dreams!

 

Staycation or what we did instead of going to the beach this year.

We retrieved the grandkids from the other set of gp's on Saturday. Four hours to meeting place and another four hours to family in upstate NY. I believe that I can call them my grandchildren now, as one of them wrote we are visiting "our grandparents" in an Instagram photo of us.

 

Little Liza Jane cozied up in the rented minivan

Excitement number one... At first I wanted to get a limo for our Big City Adventure later in the week but found out that it was cheaper to buy them each a mini iPad (16g no 4G) to make the ride home across the great state of Pennsylvania a little easier.

 

Spot the iPad?

They were so happy to discover that I am a secret hoarder of game apps and had 80+ games for the ride home. They can sync with their home computer when they return home.

Let's talk about the ride home, shall we? In spite of the best of intentions, it turned into another one of our famous -let's see what the most ridiculous travel option is and then do it-trips.

Mr. Sophanne was orphaned at an early age. He scratched his way through life without "taking anything from anybuddy" (insert Brooklyn twang). I made arrangements for us to stay with the step daughter of his deceased brother. So she's a niece but not officially but has been his niece since she was 5 years old. We got there after 8 hours of driving, had a cookout, visited with cousins, woke up the next day and drove home that afternoon around 4:00, spending 18 of 48 hours in the car and leaving them with 14 marinated chicken breasts to freeze for another day. Why did we leave so quickly? Not because the kids hated this...

 

The step niece's private swimming pool

But because MrS didn't want to impose or "take anything" from anybody. They are family and have joined us for our summer vacations at the Jersey shore before, but he just could not convince himself of the idea that they were happy to have us there and were as sad to see us leave as we are when they leave. It makes me feel a little sad for him.

 

With mini iPads and a minivan, the trip home was long but painless.

 

These kids are crazy awesome. It was 2:00 am when we got home and the oldest was helping put sheets on the bed. The little one is a Drew Barrymore clone. I'll try to capture that before the week is over. The boy, who once reminded me of Bart Simpson has figured out what power there can be in middle childness and is hilarious!

Mr. Overplan Sophanne is trying so hard to have my laissez-faireishness. The only wisdom I can offer him is to be mindful that he doesn't miss the fun while he's trying to make sure everyone's having a good time.

We don't need to go out to eat, we want the house to smell like breakfast in the morning, we want to have that empty time just to see what can happen next. The time spent is so much more than the things done. All I can do is project that vibe, pick my battles and, as someone from a non-snuggling background, accept the fact that even when a 13 year old is tired and homesick and overwhelmed, a little bedtime snuggling is all that's needed to find peace.

Stay tuned...

 

Phoning it in

Sometimes this blog is so predictable it could write itself.

In the never changing order of summer occurrences, it goes a little something like this:

Crazy Laziness which involved a full season of Orange is the New Black and four seasons of Arrested Development on Netflix.

Reading for fun which involved sending fan mail to Wally Lamb

Experimental Cooking- seriously, flour and egg make noodles!  Who knew?

Cut the grass once- My dr. asked me if I was getting plenty of sunshine.  I said "that one day I did."

Paint the Nails- I'm liking the Cover Girl brand sold at the local grocery store.  Firstly I am not overwhelmed by options and secondly it seems to be lasting longer than most.

Get interested in making music again (which is always ironic given that the strong painted nails are in direct conflict with this step)  This usually happens right before school starts when the house is clean and I can easily get to whatever instruments strike my fancy.

Knit some stuff and forget about it.  I finished a Noro stripey scarf.  I knitted a cute lamb that I"m not sure if I love or not.  I've got another scarf and a sock on the needles.  That sweater really sucked the knitting life out of me and may have led to a more monogamous way of knitting.

For the past 10 years some kind of get away has always been planned, often involving planes, trains and automobiles.  With the Alaskan cruise, this summer was no exception.

What is unusual about this summer is that the adventurous part happened at the beginning and now the Mr. Sophanne's family part is happening at the end.  We greet them on Saturday, Mr. Sophanne flies back to Seattle with them the following Saturday and while he is visiting for a week, I will be back to school.

As is always the case, there is usually a big house cleaning just before school starts (or this year before family arrives) just in time to not have time to enjoy it fully.

The next week should be fun filled with exciting jam packed adventure that I may or may not get posted here.  When we saw the whales, I knew enough to stop taking pictures and soak it in because there was no way that documenting would capture the magical.  That may just happen again.

Next week will also be a nice break in the routine because I can tell I'm also a little weary of this retired husband business.  Everyone here knows how much I adore Mr. Sophanne.  He is perfect in so many ways and always has a smile on his face.

Yesterday I had to fight feelings of screaming at him for chewing, and also sucking air between his teeth for fun.

 I harbored ill will when he started hanging up all of these pictures to freshen up the downstairs area. I mean really, who decided HE gets to decide what gets hung on the walls. (It was a copy of Van Gogh's Sunflowers, seriously self, what's your freakin' problem?)

So I guess really, the problem isn't with him, it's with the irrational crazy person that occasionally pops in my head.  A change in routine where we have to work together to keep three kids happy and then work apart while he's away is probably just the penance I need after such a confession.

How the big guy rolls

Mr. Sophanne stopped working in February.  Early disability retirement (a knee) was granted and it seems that this is the way it will be.  As it turns out, if he earns more than $1/4x (one fourth of his retirement) in any given month, he loses all benefits for that month. 

He's been talking about what he might do since February.  It really can't involve extended standing, walking etc.  He does have an undergraduate degree in mathematics education and a masters in computer science (albeit the 1995 version of computer science which is somewhat dated.)

In pure Mr. Sophanne fashion, he stopped in at the local private college (Waynesburg University) and visited the math department offering his services, looking for a salary of $1/4x or possibly tuition credits.  Two days later, the chair calls and says "we need someone to teach college algebra for 1/4x."

That's just how it rolls for him.  It will be quite a different experience from the railroad.  3 days a week, an hour a day in the morning.  This morning he woke up and said

"Do I really want to do this?  What if there's something I want to do that day?"  to which I replied,

"WTF????  Youve been talking about this since February and it has fallen in your lap.  I think you can work around 3 hours a week plus a few office hours!"  to which he replied

"What if I don't have anything to wear?"

"We'll figure it out." 

He's taught college level courses before (CS5 and CS15 as well as statistics).  It's just been a while.  He starts every class with "Hello, my name is Mr. Sophanne and I have a speech impediment.  I was born in Brooklyn."  I am certain when asked by friends how it's going, he will start every conversation with the same anecdote.  It makes me laugh and I love that I know him so well.

I'm also excited about the idea of him having to interact with people.  Firstly, they will love him.  Secondly, he will come closer to realizing why I need a nap every afternoon.

What makes me laugh is the following.

He is a mathematician.  He understands statistics up and down.  He knows that the dealer (or slot machine as it were) always wins in the long run, but the most exciting thing for him about a little extra income on the side (accrued by teaching mathematics) is that it will fuel his Tuesday Knit Night casino nights!  That's how he rolls and he cracks me up

We Are Grownups

The porch, the chairs, the table, the wagon, the dog, the blanket, the breeze.

 

 

 

The car cover used as a patio furniture cover.

 

All in a day's work.

 

Two sure signs that summer has settled into my brain

 

1. There is nail polish on my fingers. At some point every summer I believe that I can maintain decent looking nail polish. In fact, I convince myself that applying it and waiting for it to dry is the ultimate act of mindfulness and meditation. I even thought that as I whipped it on this afternoon.

2. I voluntarily cut the grass without Mr. Sophanne even mentioning that it needs to be cut. I have enough pause for thought to notice that it's long and that cutting it would be pleasant exercise.

It's been an odd summer. The cruise was great fun but the logistics of travel and talking to all of those people every day sucks all of the stored energy out of this introvert.

The two weeks after the cruise I found myself recovering from a mighty concussion after slamming my head into the Dairy Queen parking lot while chasing after the dog. Recovery time might have been less had it not been such a severe bounce. After I got up I immediately said "good thing I didn't get a concussion" and believed that for the first week. All the while suffering from sleepiness, dizziness, headaches and naseau. After a full seven days I realized that those symptoms suggested otherwise and I spent several days in non-stimulated isolation (except for those two staff development days) and then went for a CT scan when things didn't straighten up after about 10 days. No one has called to say there's a leak in my brain and the symptoms have stopped so I think it's all good. I think maybe what I should have said when I got up was, "glad I didn't crack my head open."

 

So anyway after all that excitement, things have finally settled down. My lower chakras are waking and reaching for the ground, I've declared this summer the "summer of massage" and have had two per week for the past two weeks. Who knew that hump that felt like a giant tumor on my back was actually a big pile of tension and anxiety. I can now poke at it for the blubber that it is rather than using it to crack nuts.

I had two goals for the summer, look for teaching videos on the YouTube and walk the dog daily. I've ignored the first and by the time I was ready for the second, there were heat advisories telling me to stay inside. We're now at two days in a row which makes me happy.

All has not been lost. I did finish the red and black color affection that I started in June. I also finished the dragon that I intend to perch on the shoulder of said wrap (using an i-cord to wrap around it and keep it on-we'll see, we'll just see.) Its blocking at knitnighttara's house. Pictures forthcoming.

I am not ready to jump into "bigger on the inside" or Jared Flood's Rock Island Shawl. I think the Alaskan serial killer sweater took all concentration out of me. So I'm making a Noro stripe scarf and looking at some hat patterns.

 

I did manage to make this video on the site GoAnimate. It cracks me up but I think it will probably be a little too pointed to share with the teachers at school. Particularly the ones who sound like the second half.

Summer is settling. All is well

 

This is... Addendum

Why I think my massage therapist must be a great mom....

• When the littlest one asks to have a Popsicle, she immediately answers "yes" and then thinks how much time will this buy me....
• When the older one complained of being bored this summer she answered, Bored! How can you be bored? I made a whole other person so you would have someone to play with!

Let's play "this is"

This is...

 

the porch that Mr. Sophanne has been working on for two weeks, power washing and painting. Yes, it looks fabulous. Yes, it was a whole lotta work. However, I'm not sure how much time has to pass before I can quit saying so every 20 minutes. Please, if you have any inclination to comment, don't bother commenting on what follows, just write that porch looks great...it must have been a lot of work! Because maybe instead of time passing, what he really needs is that said x number of times.

These are...

 

Two of the six chairs we assembled yesterday evening as part of a newly purchased on-sale patio set. Also purchased that day was a standard car cover that Mr. Sophanne proposes to use at a giant patio furniture cover. He was a little disappointed to discover that it wasn't weather resistant. Never a dull moment.

This is...

 

A finished Color Affection done in Madeline Tosh. While I did do the Yarn Harlot's suggested yo modification to loosen the short row edging of the third section, I wish I had been more mindful of how tight the yarn carries were going up. (Think Brooklyn Tweed Noro scarf.) It's hard to know if blocking will help.

This is...

 

A bag of unassembled miniature dragon parts done with leftover yarn from color affection.. The plan is to attach the dragon to the left shoulder, and have some sort of i-cord claspy thing to wrap around him to keep the garment on. We'll see, we'll just see. Mostly I think it would be great fun to spend the day with a dragon on my shoulder.

This is...

 

My newly tidied yarn corner. Who knew a corner could collect so much stuff that had to be removed to the yarn room which will be attended to on another day.

This is..

A lovely textured scarf that I'm working on until...

 

This yarn (named and dyed whovian blue none other than the fabulous Stitchjones) comes and I can start working on this...

 

The pattern is called Bigger on the Inside by Kate Atherley's and the photo belongs to Amy Singer and if either of them would like me to remove it, I will gladly do so.

This is...

Th end of this post!

 

Why making pasta is my new favorite thing

1. No measuring.

2.No bowl to wash.

 

I found some semolina at a co-op in a nearby city. I am getting good at this. It will be added to the list of things to do when Mr. sophanne's grandkids come.

Here is the list.

1. Visit family in upstate New York
2. Teach them how to bet on the dogs during the long drive across Pennsylvania
3. Show them where their mama grew up.
4. Take them to the races and practice their newly acquired knowledge. (No actual gambling with minors, of course)
5. Make pasta. Go to the movies.
6. Come back from the movies to find house decorated in the House of Sophanne birthday fashion since we never see them on their actual birthdays.
7. Visit and make art at the Andy Warhol museum.
8. Enjoy a Pirates game from behind home plate.
9. Paint rocks and birdhouses.

Good times ahead.

 

My Brain during the Summer

Reading has been winning over knitting this summer. Very possibly because of the gigantic project I just finished. For the last 2 weeks I've been reading Wally Lamb's book I Know This Much is True.

I loved this book but will not review it here. You can look at the site and decide if its for you or not.

There is a bit of Italian culture and history in the telling of the story. One of the characters is forced to work making pasta in Italy.

Because I am me, I had to know what this looked like so I watched this video.

 

Her hands are a dance. She was so seamlessly skilled, she made me believe I could do it to. The way that egg and flour magically makes dough amazes me. The sound and perceived texture of the fork beating the egg is irresistible to me.

Weekend-during-the-school-year-brain would have had good intentions but would have accepted the fact that it would be a rushed half-assed effort with Monday morning looming so close.

Summer-brain went to the grocery store around three p.m. I didn't worry about my inability to find semolina. I got distracted for a while at home and then went through the whole process at a relaxed pace from about 5:30-7:30 p.m. I added some olive oil and a bit of Parmesan/garlic bread dipping spices and it was dinner.

 

It tasted like pasta. It felt like I had written a hands on lesson plan for myself with this book. Had my own private book club of sorts. I may do it again. I'd like to try it exactly the way she did it. I'd like to practice rolling it a little thinner. Or maybe I won't, it doesn't matter much.

While I was able to imitate the mixing of ingredients, I Know this Much is True...

 

Happy Fourth of July!

 

 

Some pictures

Prime picture taking is happening tomorrow in Tracy Arm Fjord and the inside passage. Until then, here are some pictures

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The night before the adventure begins made better by knitnightfriends

Aunt of Sophanne and I are going on an Alaskan cruise. I have never been to Alaska. I have never been on a cruise. My mind drifts between images of The Love Boat and Titanic. KnitnightTara and KnitnightAllison have taken this to a whole 'nother level.

They have made a list of photo tableaux from the movie Titanic for us to recreate during our adventure.

1. When boarding, wear large hat

2. Win your tickets in a poker game

3.Get to bow of ship. Be king of the world.

4. Go to back of ship. Contemplate jumping. Don't jump.

5. Talk in western accent. Spit over railing.

6. Judge others. Think of them as insects that need to be squashed quickly.

7. Toast to "making it count."

8. Get to steerage (or the crappiest ballroom) and dance with the peasants. Hold hands and spin.

9. Give Aunt Sippy a guilt trip over your dire financial situation.

10. "Draw me like one of your French girls wearing this... Only this." (Clothes optional)

11. Wipe hand on steamy window. (Non steamy o.k. But not preferred)

11.5 Oogle lovey dovey couple, scream "Iceburgh straight ahead!" and ring bells. Iceburgh=Pittsburgh=penguin.

12. Spit in someone's face. (Optional.)

13. Scream in the elevator "I'm going back up!"

14. Practice life boat drill.

15. Reassure Aunt Sippy many times that you "won't let go."

16. Pry whistle in cold dead hands.

17. Drop necklace into ocean.

18. Sing "My heart will go on" as you dock.

I've added one of my own involving a conversation, "that's a big boat." "It's a ship, daddy. It's a ship." We've actually already had this conversation but it deserves a re re enactment.

I've not yet decided whether to pack a hat. For the most part Aunt gets to be Kate Winslet and I get to be Leonardo diCaprio and Kate's mother. My sister believes that I should also be the Unsinkable Molly Brown at least once.

As for The Heart of the Ocean, I purchased a fabulous pendant that will be shared here in due time but I do have the one for the toss it into the ocean tableau that KnitnightTara brought as a prop. I love my knitnight friends.

 

 

The big pre-blocking reveal

Of the Alaskan Homeland Serial Killer Sweater

 

 

Blocking #2 and woven ends not included. It's a little snug but I'm thinking bout wearing it a little bit when it's wet to stretch it out some. What with Mr. sophanne's new camera and all, I should be able to get fashion shots some day.... The dog does!

 

 

 

Redecorating

Thanks for the comments on Another Day at the Office. Teachers not being in charge of what to teach has been a tradition in my state of employment (sadly, well before W, kmkat)
I write this post to let you know that all that we failed to accomplish last Friday will be revisited this coming Tuesday. Same cast of characters. Same lack of blueprints and knowledge. Only on Tuesday it goes from 8:00 am to 3:00 pm. A "rebuilding" of sorts. I suppose we should all be grateful that the city planner is taking interest in our houses. But if you don't hear from me in the next few weeks, know that I loved my job while it lasted. Also we will see exactly how far I can go on a pair of knitted socks in 8 hours.

My Peeps

When it comes to knitting bridge panels, my peeps are awesome. The first photo is a collection from several people. The second is mostly knitnightjustine's and the third belongs to knitnighttara and knitnightalison.

I wish I could say I was responsible for one small piece of it but that is not the case. I did, however provide occasional reality checking by reciting our mantra, "it's a bridge people." Panels are 72" x 34" give or take a stitch and details about the Knit the Bridge project can be found here.

 

 

 

 

Another day at the office.

I think that part of our technology agreement with the school system prohibits me from sharing conversations that took place in our staff development today so what follows is what it might sound like if instead of teaching children we were building a house. Beware that it might feel a little Kafka/Gertrude Steinish.

 

Important person enters room and the dialogue begins...

Hello, welcome to the meeting today. We were to be talking about the new housing development but the director of the housing development quit his job yesterday. He did give me his presentation which I will present to you but I'm not terribly informed as to what it means for building houses, as I usually design cities.

What I can tell you is that we hope to have the blueprints by August. They will be in draft form. There may be a delay in blueprints. We will begin building whether we have them or not. One thing I can say for sure is that you WILL NOT be building houses like you did in the past. These new guidelines will change everything you'll ever do. However, we have some friends across town who are building office buildings and they will in general be working with the process of construction that you have used in the past as this process has proven effective and necessary.

Let me touch on a few points, though I'm not sure these will be relevant in a month. Feel free to ask questions as we go along.

Houses af the past are useless. Please discard any thoughts on previous constructions.

Will the houses need roofs?

These houses will be much better than houses with roofs but you might have to put a roof on them. Just not the same one. I can't believe that they haven't done away with roofs in the last 10 years.

Will we still be responsible for landscaping?

I'm glad you asked that. The bathrooms WILL have water we are not certain about the kitchen. Oh, that reminds me, the people working on the office buildings will be using your equipment in the daylight hours. I'm sure with as flexible and understanding as you are, that won't be a problem.

What about the housing inspector? Can we expect regular visits?

As you know, the position of housing inspector was done away with several years ago. The county genealogical society will be coming by periodically to make sure you are hydrated.

Now, I would like all of you to get into groups and make a plan of action for building the houses. I think it's valuable to have all the contractors and subcontractors here. Don't worry about not having the blueprints, just make sure you are doing something new.

(End scene 1. Move to small group scene 2)

(Contractors in italics, sub contractor in regular type.)

Well we've been give our mission, what shall we plan on doing?

We need to be proactive instead of retroactive. We need to make sure the banks are going to fund the project. We need to remind those who are building the office buildings that they will need houses to live in.

Me: what I wish I had said " A riot is an ungly thing... undt, I tink, that it is chust about time ve had vun ..." What I accidentally said and no one made the connection "WE NEED A RIOT" which made me sound a little bit like a crazy person. This means that in spite of my 26 years of experience in building houses, I will likely NOT be asked to be on the project review board. Damn. I think you have to be named Joel to do it anyway.

And then

At the fiber festival it was also dye your poodle day. What you see below is not a tiger but a poodle.

 

While I have no use for it, I love the way this stuff looks.

 

 

I told myself I was not to get anything unless it jumped out of the vendors' hands and into mine.

 

Guess what happened?

 

 

What could I do? Especially when the vendor said it's a great way to use up leftover yarn......

 

Observations before the day begins.

This morning we woke up to a plastic burning bonfire smell wafting through our home. It did not emanate from our house, it was just passing through, like a paper mill on vacation. I called 911 (which you are supposed to do even though it seemed a little non dramatic for such a call).

About 30 minutes later a father and son team arrived in a pick up truck asking if they were in the right place. Yes, it was a toxic burning smell, no it didn't smell like natural gas, yes, it seems to have dissipated a bit since I made the call. Their response? "We'll look into it." It's why I didn't see a whole lot of reason to perform my civic duty by calling in the first place. I feel bad dragging a couple of volunteer firefighters out on a relaxing Saturday morning.

Wait a minute, back up to the question "did it smell like natural gas?" We live smack in the middle of the Marcellus shale seam. You can't walk your dog without running into trenches for pipeline, well digging trucks, pumping stations, tankers dumping non-potable chemically laden water into streams or otherwise. However, if it in fact WAS a burning natural gas smell, I'm pretty certain that a father/son team in a pick up truck with a flashing yellow light would be at most a casualty in an ensuing disaster.

(Insert Western PA accent as appropriate)

Yup, me and my boy here heard you had a stinky smell and we come to check 'er out...KABLOOM!"

I wonder how much Haliburton gives to the local volunteer fire departments. I'd like to respectfully suggest that they consider upping the ante a little.

End of morning observation one.

Today is deliver your big junky garbage to the city building and we' ll get rid of it day. We had some big junky garbage and fortunately have a friend with a truck who said, yea, I'll come by and take it there for you. (What a good friend, right?) when I got home from work yesterday, Mr. Sophanne was on a mission to clear out big junky garbage from our house. I am happy to get rid of big junky garbage. When it comes to carrying to to the big junky garbage pile, I'd really rather wait an hour or two after getting home from work to do it. I'm a big fan of slow transitioning from work to home life. (Read: I need my damn 4:00 nap time)

I asked the Mr. to wait an hour so that I might help carry big heavy junky garbage. He said, no, no, you worked all day, I'll take care of it. Today he is wearing a back brace, and occasionally grumbling in pain. This with the added sneezing discomfort of the morning's stinky smell will mean that it will take some extra effort to make it a good day.

Why do Mr.'s think they can move big heavy things without consequences?

End of morning observation number two.

Wildlife. This morning there were no less than three squirrels in our backyard munching on whirligigs from whichever kind of tree makes them. (Maple?) I let the good dog out and I thought her brain was going to explode. Also spotted last week was a giant bunny daring to nibble on the treats in our yard. Again, the dog was no match for big bunny speed, though I hope it's either a sterile girl bunny or maybe a boy bunny because that dog of mine loves her some baby bunnies (not for food, just for presents.)

I'm wondering if all this wildlife is coming around because they heard me vamping on Iz's Somewhere Over The Rainbow chords last night on the back porch and thought, hey, What a Wonderful World this backyard must be.

End of morning observation number three.

Today is the local Sheep and Fiber festival. I have had three major yarn adventures this year. A trip to Natural Stitches in October, a trip to the Pittsburg Knit and Crochet Festival in February, and a very BIG trip (as in it took nearly two months worth of allowance to cover) to the Mia Sofia yarn store closing in March. Add to that my participation in Stitchjones' Yarnageddon club which delivers two gorgeous skeins every quarter, and the truth is, my yarn basket, shelf, room runneth over. Today I hope to be tagging along, buying nothing, in it only for the post-festival apple dumpling and ice cream treat. Ladies, place your bets.

To be continued...

Mr. Sophanne's new camera and a Mother's Day feast.

Mr. Sophanne bought a new camera. It's his camera. This is a great thing. I don't have sole responsibility of camera activities. He's been shooting the pets a lot and these two are my favorites.

 

If he decides to make this his hobby, I think he has an eye for it. It still takes him, 20 minutes to snap a shot but so it goes. Also I'll have to suggest he fix the time stamp on the camera, but maybe he hasn't gotten that far in the directions yet.

We went to a Mother's Day banquet buffet feast with aunt of Sophanne this weekend. She lives in the town where Dean Martin was born. There is more than one banquet hall that holds dinners such as these for various holidays. Part of Sundays entertainment was a singer a la Michael Bublé. He picked up the mic and said "I'll be entertaining you today." That made me laugh. Then he sang (he had a decent voice) and walked around the room while he was singing. Holy Crack me Up batman! I can't quite put my finger on why I thought it was so hilarious. As you can see below, Aunt loved it. I guess I've just never been that close to what I would consider a lounge singer. If it cracks you up and you figure out why, drop me note, mkay?

 

 

A Vent

This year a new/old school was added to my schedule. I was completely demoralized. I had worked at this school 15 years earlier and was getting comfortable working in the same building with a classroom and equipment every day of the week. I tried to be positive. And in fact I met Newfrienddebbie who is a soul mate kind of good friend, so it wasn't completely horrible.

However, when this happened I was too angry to speak of it much. I knew that there would be no quelling the storm that was raging against the powers that be. Now that there are only a few more days left to teach at this school, it's time to loosen up a little.

The teachers "lounge" is actually a long narrow half of a stage. For the first six months, my official space (where I can leave my coat) was a desk underneath a dripping pipe. One would be sitting there during a planning period having been told that "the drip was fixed' only to discover otherwise with either a wet laptop, lunch, notebook or otherwise.

The stage curtain is all that separates this lounge/work area and elementary kids eating lunch. In late February, in the interest of safe schools a locksmith, appeared to fix the lock on the side door that leads to the stage. All I can figure is that there is some sort of defense shield in place that I don't know about between these two areas.

At one time I had some pictures to share of this area but they were too depressing to run into when I was looking at pictures of the Liza Jane

The principal at this school does a good job, but when it comes to National Teacher's Week, I would rather a short note of appreciation (NOT IN ALL CAPS AS THE NOTE INFORMING US OF OUR GIFT BAG WAS.)

These are the items in the gift bag. Insert appropriate and clever "plays on words" about having "drive" and being a real "gem" and being worth "a million bucks" not realizing that "worth your weight in gold" was a much better match with the waxy chocolate coins.

When traveling from room to room, I roll equipment on a cart when I feel like it. I carry in a ukulele and a Bose iPod dock when I don't. Because most classroom teachers do not give me enough room to actually bring the cart into the room, more often than not I go for the latter. In this particular room, my "place to be" is usually the table pictured below. This afternoon when I entered the room, the classroom teacher said, "I hope my strawberries don't get in your way."

And then later, while I was teaching, she dropped off another container of them. Apparently my "polite grunt of indifference" said to her "Please may I have another?"

 

The number of teachers coming in and out to work in this building exceeds the number of parking spaces available. These spaces are also tightly packed, at an angle, and a little tricky to maneuver. I have been asked to move my car over so that it was a centimeter within the one next to it so that someone else could have enough room to actually get out of their car.

Today as I was attempting to leave I was faced with this:

 

My car is the one trapped between the two cars. Fortunately, I am good friends with the woman who drives the car in front of me. I went to her room, borrowed her keys, double parked her car and while it was running, proceeded to move my car. Before I could put my car in gear someone pulled into the "spot" and tried to block me in again. She backed up and let me out. I informed her that there was another car that had been in that spot that had to be returned there.

She loudly and rudely announced to me that " I AM THE CROSSING GUARD AND I MUST HAVE A PLACE TO PARK! DO YOU EVEN WORK HERE?" (Nevermind that there was a parking place about 10 ft. away in a lot a little further from her crossing guard duties. Also nevermind that all kids had crossed, it was the end of the day and there was absolutely no guarding to do.) she did leave me enough space to slide my friends car back into its place. She was also out of there before I returned to my car.

I know it's small. I know it's petty but my head was ready to explode. I have three more visits to the school. One visit is during the big testing week, one visit is during a scheduled field day (why yes, some schools schedule field day on the music teachers day instead of the physed teacher....NOT) and a program that will be more a casual showcase of third graders rather than an official "thing."

This is a school year that I will not be sad to see pass. Did I mention that I'll be going on an Alaskan cruise this summer? Sometimes I am already there.

 

Further evidence

that Western Pennsylvania and surrounding area (where I live and work)  might be classified as a foreign country.

On this morning's facebook feed:

It was not a joke.  And it was not from an unemployed person just in case you think I'm being heartless.