Shoveling and Sundry Items

I gotta say it...Shoveling and I are so not BFFs. Our driveway is red rock gravel which is fine in the summer, pretty mucky in the spring, okay in the fall unless there is a lot of rain, but the winter.......not fun. In the beginning, it seems like I am shoveling half rock, half snow.

Right now, our current issue is the recent thaw of a couple days that has produced a beautiful, glorious inch to inch and a half of wonderful.....ice. Clear, smooth, and slippery as all get out. Both of us have had trouble staying upright on it. Which makes shoveling easier because it is smooth, but more difficult because well, you are on a sheet of ice.

I am such a complainer. Let's change the subject.

I have a new part time job. I am an advisor for curriculum for a summer exploration program for high school students at a fancy-schmanzy college out east. I am excited because it is a virtual job meant to be done over the computer. Sweet. I had to make contact with my advisee before the first of the year and set our three week work period. Let's just say that it didn't go well in my brain. I had to call back and change the date as when I went to write it on the calendar of plenty, I realized a scheduling conflict.

So, I called her back.

Which was great, as she had realized that she has a conference in the middle of that period, so we set it for a week earlier. As I hung up, I realized that I kept saying March but I meant February. Crap. Double crap. I knew I said March as I could hear my voice in my head. Mind you, I had just called her back the second time not more than 4 minutes after our first conversation. But, what if she understood March instead of February? Then, she is thinking she has a month more time before we get all Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.....and no one wants that.

So, I called her back.

I really know how to make a fantastic, competent, professional first impression. She is most likely hashing it over with her family over dinner. Stellar. Eh. Gotta let that one go. Wish I could take back those last 10 minutes, but oh well. We all do something similar every now and then. At least when she answered the last time I was laughing and saying something to the effect of I am not as incompetent as this in real life. (For those of you keeping score, she understood it to mean February 9th and not March 9th. Phew. An embarrassing moment for nothing. Great.)

On an up note, I still have most of a week left of break. Which is good because I have not done jack with the school work that I wanted to get done. I don't even remember if I brought home stuff to correct. That is how complete the mind break was. It has been fantastic.

I have been dreaming of Italy. No shocker there, but it has been like three nights in a row that Italy has figured into the dreams that I remember in some fashion. Hmmmmm. It doesn't mean anything portentous as I usually think about going through, traveling in, or moving to Italy in some fashion almost every day. It has not reached obsession status, although it sounds like it, it is more of a casual pastime, really. It is my favorite country I have been to and I like daydreaming about it as a moment of escape from school, families at Christmas, winter......shoveling.

Aim High.

One must have goals. Mustn't one? (Say "mustn't one" three times fast. Does it sound like a rancid appetizer? No? Must just be me then. Huh.) So. Goals. Having them. Here were my goals today. Let's call them my "goals". As opposed to my "real" goals. My on the DL goals.

My "Goals": Get up, go to locally-owned, non-chain, coffee place that I heart. Preferably with my Sweet Baboo. Come home. Clean the entire house in, like, 2o minutes. Take the dog to the groomer to get nails cut. (I could totally do it if I HAD to, but the nail quick part kind of ooks me out. And, the groomer totally cut one to the quick and it looks like it hurts, but she is a professional and probably wouldn't start sobbing if it happened. Just sayin'.) Go work out. Lose 12 pounds in three minutes because of said stellar workout. Come home, shower and do something productive. Go to department Christmas party. Come home. Sleep through 3:30 am, unlike the last two weeks.

Now, those are my goals on paper. Let's look at my "real" goals. My "Answer Like a Guy" goals. (We play "A.L.A.G." a lot at our house. I tend to use a lot of words. Ones that might or might not need to be said out loud. I verbally vomit my thoughts as I think them and share my whole process of decision making. Which doesn't really work out well for the audience because I am not convinced that, if I had to, I could make a decision to save my life.

Seriously, like "K. You must choose a favorite color or we kill you. K. Go." And most likely, my answer would be something like this: "OH, oh my...okay. Uhm, my favorite color is green because I really like the different shades and my eyes are green and it signifies new life, but I also like red because it is bold and fiery and the color of watermelon which is also green so it sort of works out perfectly because red and green are my two favorite colors. It's like Christmas, but I also really like the silver at Christmas time with a bright, bright blue or another jewel tone. I can't really pick a favorite color because it is totally situational. Sorry. Kill me." At which point the listener-slash-killer in the story has killed himself.

The A.L.A.G. version: "K. You must choose a favorite color or we kill you. K. Go." Me: "Green. See ya.")

Back to my goals: Here's how it has gone so far.....let's call them what my "Goals" should have been because then this day would be a RockStar success:
Wake up and stay in bed next to the Space Heater. Watch the light and day emerge. Make a real breakfast of toast, eggs, and breakfast sausage. Screw the fancy coffee and make a pretty damn good cup of coffee. Make lunch for Sweet Baboo. I heart him, and I make his lunches with extra love most days. Correction: On the days I do make him lunch, it is with extra love. Check e mail for the first time in three days. (That is like a bajillion years in So...There...Then Time. Seriously.) Fart around and putter for about 45 minutes. Take Sophie to the dog groomers (Thing Number Two I will Never EVER Do To My Dog: Express the anal glands. Enough said.) Go workout. Decide to listen to music and read trash celebrity mag while sweating instead of the planned "Think Deep Thoughts About My Life". Worked out much better this way.)

After work out, came home. Checked my e mail. Farted around and puttered some more. What? I am really good at it. I did, purely for show, dust the buffet and the shelves. Oh, and watered plants.

Turns out that when my mom brought over a Christmas Rosemary Tree yesterday it was a double whammy good gift. We don't have a Christmas tree this year, so...done. And it also turns out I committed my 39th planticide. My rosemary that I transplanted from the garden to a pot so I could have it inside over the winter. Friggin' died. All on it's own. It was like it wanted to make me feel all bad and killer-y. The new Rosemary Christmas Tree came with a booklet that specifically said: "Rosemary is a plant that will not come back from too little water as a houseplant." Great. Is this common knowledge? That is my main approach to plant care. "Oops. Forgot to water the last two weeks, they look kind of droopy." Then I water the crap out of them and they come back to life and look good. (Usually. Thus the 39th planticide discovered this week.)

So. There. Then I went to The Crack Box(Target) and got a gift for the party tonight. Then, to pick up Sophs. Home for lunch and blogging.

That should have been my original plan. I think next time I take a PTO day I will have official plans to do whatever the crap I want. Which is what I end up doing anyway. Plans are overrated.

I might take a nap. I might not. It might matter, it might not. The point is, people, everyone should have a figurative day to hangout in their jammies with the footies on the bottom and play with legos. There doesn't always need to be something to be done or dealt with. Having said that, at some point today, I do PLAN on vacuuming up the half of a dead cricket that has been at the top of the staircase for the past week. I guess maybe we should have some goals. My original plan of ignoring it and it disappearing doesn't appear to be working out so much.

Fave?

Baby shower last night. Book theme. And wine themed. The beauty of adopting? You can drink. Oh.....and the whole bebe thing.

I had been trying to get a handle on what might be my favorite children's book.....I cannot be forced to say "of all time". There is just no way, my friends. Let's go for random books that pop into my head that I am able to remember from childhood that I loved.

Near the top, for sure, is the classic: "Where the Wild Things Are." How can you not love this? Unless, maybe you were a scaredy cat. That's cool. Embrace it. (wuss.)

Actually, anything by Maurice Sendak. We did the musical version of the Nutshell Library in 5th or 6th grade. I can still remember what's-his-name singing "I don't care!" as Pierre. And "I'm Really Rosy". Ah, good times. Do you know the Nutshell Library? I almost got it for the baby shower.
Strongly recommended.
Always a fan of Harold and the Purple Crayon. I coveted that damn crayon. You lucky bastard, Harold.

I think it was called: Max and the Flying Machine, Except for I can't find the cover picture so that might not be the name. I can distinctly remember the pictures. This kid, whom I had previously thought was named Max, turns out it is anybody's guess. So, this kid decides to build a flying machine and he takes an apple crate and turns it on its side and scavenges all this junk to piece together a machine. And he ends up cruising around flying, but I can't remember if it was for reals or just in his imagination. I really liked it. When I worked at the before/after school care center, they had a copy and I was gonna stickyfingers it and have it "accidentally" appear in my bag to go home and then "forget" to return it. But then, one of the little people took it and didn't put it back in the library and so I couldn't find it. Maybe the Mystery Reader was a Junior Klepto. You never know, do ya?

I never had Goodnight, Moon. I don't get the appeal. Sors.
Those are just a few of mine......what was your fave?

Remember in grade school or Sunday school or sometime type of school..........those chain link calendars? Strips of paper, interlocked and glue together and you rip off a circle for each day? What the frick are those called?

Okay, So turns out they're called paper chains. Brilliant. I just did a search for a photo and typed that in and now I feel like an imbecile for thinking there was some magical academic name for it. Christ. So. Here's the stupid picture ( It's not the paper chain's fault that I didn't know that is what it was called, I take back all my venom, Papes. Sors, Old Friend.): So. Another teacher who is also feeling swamped with lesson planning and grading this quarter has been counting down the days until the end of the second quarter. I have joined by asking on an almost daily basis how many the count is at. And I suggested that her student aide make us paper chain calendar. Which was done today. (Your tax dollars, hard at work. Can you hear them grinding away at the millstone?)

Which got me thinking: children, waiting for a particular day, asking how many days until said day, irritation mounting with each request for information, biting of inside of cheeks to keep from crying out in pain, Light bulb. What can I do to not go insane the next time "How many more days?" is asked?

Thusly and ergo... Enter, stage left. I think it is really going to help my colleagues keep from pummeling my head with a shovel within the next 27...no wait.....26 more days of school before the end of the quarter. (It isn't even midterm, people. That is friggin' next week.)