(calling all) Sleuths (Sunday)

Up around 9 am this morning.  I was excited to have a free day to plant my garden and putter around.  I walked out to the kitchen to find Mike waffling his fingers through his hair and Andy sobbing.  Jenny was gone.  (Jenny is one of our guinea pigs - she's the big fat happy one) 

I had tossed Jenny and Esme some lettuce and carrots around 9 pm on Saturday.  That's the last I saw of Jenny.  I was up and about, but I cannot specifically remember any unusual noises before I went to bed around 12:30.

There was no disruption to their cage.  In the past three years, neither pig has shown an inclination or ability to climb out of the cage.  The bedding in the cage was undisturbed, same with the food and water containers.  The back door to the porch was shut and it was all night.  We were all here.  The pigs aren't super-noisy unless you try to pick them up or if you crinkle a plastic grocery bag (which we all know is where fresh parsley comes from) around them. 

But, Jenny is just gone.  Flat out *poof* gone.  Anyone ever have this happen?  Did you find your pig?  If so, where? 

If you read my Saturday post, I'm trying very hard not to think Fatal Attraction.  Please share your more sane versions of what might have happened.  Please!!!!!

Super Saturday!

Oddly, after a huge  day at Universal, I ended up in bed and fast asleep incredibly early for me.  And, that translated to me being up early on Saturday.  I spent the morning puttering in the garden pulling weeds and revamping my plans.  I did a TON of laundry.  Mike got a call from his old manager at Chili''s asking if we wanted a giant mixer - she thought I could use it for soap.  Mike said yes.  I'm now the proud owner of a THIRTY QUART mixer.  The whisk beater is the size of a basketball.  My head is still twirling with possibilities!  Lynda is awesome for thinking of us before just consigning the mixer to the dump.  But, sheesh, it's HUGE.  I'll keep you posted.

While Mike was at Chili's, they fixed him and Tim fajita's-to-go.  Ummmm . . . except they sent home enough food for about 20 people.  We shared.  We had a brief meeting of the "driveway girls" while the kids played.  Scout always joins us (she's a girl and all).  For the most part, Scout sticks by my side no matter what is going on.  The only exception would be a cat within a five-house square.  She'll tear off (cone and all) after the cat  . . . she would be lost if she actually caught a cat, but she was back within about 2 minutes. 

:::sigh::: not fast enough.  Scout opted to tear through our mean neighbor's yard.  I fully expected a visit from the police (I could see her blinds move as Scout escaped me in pursuit of the cat).  Heh.  No such luck.  Though I was sitting with four other people and a lot of kids running all over (my older kids were playing basketball out front, the middle aged kids were playing tag and the youngest were messing with sidewalk chalk), mean-neighbor stepped outside her front door and directed her venom at ME.  (Just to set the stage . . . she is a very attractive late-50ish woman with a clipped NE accent and a deep voice.) "AMYYYYYYY, Do you think you could keep your effing dog in your own effing yard?  AMYYYYYY?????  Really, just try it.  AMYYYYYY. "  I waved, apologized and went back to my conversation, though I was totally shaking and scared.  What else does a person do? 

In thirteen years, I can count on my fingers the number of times Scout has traipsed/raced through a neighbor's yard.  I always go check for damage and have been willing to offer to repair damage if there is any . . .  all I can remember is buying our "old" neighbors a new pair of flip flops when Scout was a puppy. 

Anyway, it was kind of an ugly end to an otherwise nice day.

Universal Friday

Now you could take my title to mean that it's Friday everywhere, or, if you've been paying attention, you'd know it was the day Andy and I headed to Universal with our friends/neighbors.  You never know how things will work out when you combine three families.  In our case, we really could not have had a better day.  Here are some pictures to give you an idea:

Here we are on arrival - notice we're all wearing layers and clothing and shoes that dry quickly.  Yep.  We're gorgeous AND we're onto the inside tips of theme parks.  Luckily we live in Orlando - not quite the pressure to be beautiful as they have in places like LA, but still.  I think we triumphed.

The "big" kids.  I actually realized about an hour into our park adventure that this was the first time in about 18 years that I was somewhere and I had the fewest kids!!!!  Crazy, crazy times.  Think about it though.  We have out-numbered just about anyone we know for years and years and years.  

I love this picture.  It captures each of the kids.  And, :::sniff::: in a few years they'll all be driving themselves to Universal and growing up and all of that.  They'll still be these kids, but only in the shadows.  (Talk amongst yourselves, I'm getting a little ferklempt talking about this right now. . . .Like buttah these kids are.)  I am honored to say I joined Connor (second from the left) on his first HUGE roller coaster ride.  We rode the rides, got soaked, the kids all got one souvenir they really wanted.  We had a great lunch at the Three Broomsticks (like you could have a bad lunch in Hogsmeade?)  

Without dragging you through all the details, it was a perfectly wonderful day.  The park closed at 6 pm.  We all came home, ordered pizza and made a beer run and spent the next two hours regaling Mike and the older boys with the details.  As much as I've always loved my neighbors, I was not sure we'd be a good traveling show.  Whew!  We are.  

(Preston got his face painted while the other kids rode roller coasters.  This is him hiding at the roller coaster exit waiting to scare them . . . I love this picture!)

All kinds o' fun here . . . Part II

After dropping Tim off for his first bus ride since he was 6, Andy and I headed to Good Will (not because Andy wanted to, but he doesn't mind sitting there reading while I shop).   It's been a while since I had a great Good Will day.  Yesterday was my day.

Friday, Andy and I are going with some friends to Universal (to use up the second day of our Christmas passes).  The cold weather is gone and I'm left facing my sad, sad summer wardrobe.  I'm a messy person - everything I own from last summer is stained or torn from soaping or gardening or just walking through the house.   I hit Goodwill with the hope of finding something cute and fun to wear to Universal.  

Score!!!!!!  One pair of super-light-weight-denim Clavin Klein clam digger pants (with awesome pockets it's all about pockets for me).  Orange tag, so they were $1.50.  One excellent cotton floppy sweater courtesy of Chico's.  Another orange tag, $1.50.  Adorable mules/slip on shoes with Beall's tags still on them.  Splurge at $5.99.  And then, the piece de resistance . . . a J Jill bag with store tags ($59.99 - someone was smoking crack when they priced this handbag) . . . for $3.99.  Total outfit, if you're not into mental math,  $12.98.  How fun is that? 

All kinds o' fun here . . . Part I

You know I mean it when I use "o" instead of "of."  

Yesterday was Tim's first track meet.  Heck, it was my first track meet.  I only found the field because  a sign pointed us to field house and after a lifetime of Olympics' watching I recognized "Field House" as a track word.  Tim did really well - his inexperience showed, but he held his own in the long jump, the 100 M, the 100 M hurdles and the 400 M races. 

There were so many things I loved about the meet.  There were about six other schools competing and the range was amazing.  Our high school sits in the middle as far as resources go.  The school where the meet was held was as close to a really awesome private school's facilities as a public school can get - it was spectacular.  The other teams came from the poorest districts and some of the richest.  It's fascinating to me how talent knows no limits.  If you're good, you're good. 

The other thing I really loved and, perhaps one of things I think can be lost when homeschooling your kids, was seeing a very large group of teenagers who are all focused on something positive and doing something meaningful. While I don't have girls, I was so thrilled to see the girls on the field.  They were all beautiful in their own way and they all carried themselves with such confidence that had nothing to do with their clothing or their makeup or their hair or their boyfriends.  It was wonderful.

Just stuff . . .

Life is kind of random right now and I"m just going to toss things out that have been sticking in my head for one reason or another . . . no reason, no plan, nothing nefarious. Just stuff to get out of my head and into yours.

1) Monday I took in some of the neighbor kids as it was President's Day.  We lucked out.  It was a gorgeous, 80 degree, sunny perfect (if heavily pollinated) day here in Orlando.  The older boys had classes in the morning.  I took Andy and four of his friends to the park for a picnic and park stuff.  At the last minute the kids grabbed a video camera and started planning their park version of "The Creature From the Black Lagoon."  I spent most of the day scribbling in a notebook, hanging out and people watching.  "MY" kids were way wrapped up in their project.  I was left to entertain myself and guard the Oreo's.

It's been awhile since I've sat at a park watching other parents, particularly parents of young kids.  I think I'm getting old.  I wanted to get up and scream at some of the folks.  There were two distinct groups of parents.  To the first group I say "Get off your butt, put down the cell phone or whatever it is absorbing all of your attention and stop threatening your kids with the stoopid 1-2-3 countdown.  The countdown only works if you act on it."  Gaaahhhh!!!!!  To the second group I say "Lighten up!  The kid is three.  If he's melting down, it might be time to go home and take a nap.  If he's really melting down, your painful (yet, kind and well-meant) explanations of why his behavior is unacceptable is at best reaching him at a Peanut level of "WAH WAH WAH."  Just pick it all up and go home and everyone take a nap.  It's too late to teach lessons when Junior is flopped in the mulch wailing.  

2)  During our gorgeous park day, I brought along a copy of Real Simple magazine.  Light on content, but the pictures were pretty - really I love magazines just to look at the pictures.  It was a windy day and somehow the magazine kept blowing back to one page.  After the third or fourth time, I read the ad.  It was for something called the iPant.  Here's the copy:  "Wacoal's iPant offers superior comfort and smoothing along with amazing cosmetic benefits. The iPant is constructed of Novarel Slim (r) nylon microfibers with embedded microcapsules containing caffeine to promote fat destruction, vitamin E to prevent the effects of aging, ceramides to restore and maintain the skin's smoothness; and retinol and aloe vera to moisturize and increase the firmness of the skin.   . . .

It's come down to caffeinated panties, has it? I, for one, am just saying no.  

3) We're now waiting to see which of the schools Dan has applied to will accept him in additon to hearing about a Naval ROTC scholarship.  So far he's been accepted by two schools - into their engineering departments and with grants.  Yay.  Still, though, the reality is we don't have a lot to help with college and we REALLY do not want any of the kids to go into major debt to get an undergrad degree.  

As I'm reading through the school stuff, though, I'm seeing why college is SO expensive.  The meal plans we're looking at include (at a minimum) 15 options for places to eat (including Burger King, Pizza Hut, Starbucks, Chik-Fil-A, other smaller chains and a couple of "upscale bistros" I'm not making that up) . . . are you kidding me?  Kids who in general have no experience planning their own meals (forget balanced and/or healthy meals) are given a card and let loose for a semester????  With all of those options?  And people wonder why so many young adults are chunky?  (Granted, tons of kids gain weight that first semester no matter where they eat, but come on . . . )  Don't get me started on the housing, multiple gyms and other amenities - no wonder kids graduate and come back home - very few starting salaries would allow them to live in the style to which they become accustomed to in a lot of state universities.  Heck, I want to go back and get a PhD or something just to live in the dorms (they have MAID SERVICE!!!!!). 

Okay - just had to get that out of my system.  May have to change the name of this blog to "My Old (we-walked-barefoot-in-the-snow-both-ways) Foil Hat."

Does it ever go away?

You may or may not know the feeling . . . will my debit card/check go through?  It's really been years and years since we've lived that close to the edge, we haven't moved too far away from that edge, but there is definitely more breathing room than there used to be.  Still 

. . . whenever we buy something that is not essential to us being alive and well, I find myself holding my breath as the computer thingie verifies that we are not deadbeats.  It's a sick feeling and I hate it and I wonder if it will ever go away, I don't think it will - even if we won the lottery or something (which we keep meaning to play but always forget - you'd think we'd be more on top of that as it's our current retirement plan but I digress .  .  .)

Today was fun.  Scout stuff in the morning was handled by Mike.  The man is definitely going to heaven - he ended up with a group of 11 year-old scouts - nice kids all around but not terribly attuned to getting things done.  At this point, Mike is used to older scouts who are all about efficiency and getting on with their real lives.  Mike was sore tire when he arrived home around lunch time.  

Still, give the man credit, he ate lunch, watched tv/took a nap (depends who you talk to) for an hour and came with me to the nursery.  I'm soooo excited.  I have six different kinds of tomatoes to test out, several new peppers and a bunch  of other fun stuff.  Mike and Andy (who was walking strangely when we went into the garden store when we all noticed that he was wearing one of Tim's - size 12 - shoes and one of his own - size 8 - shoes.  Same shoe/different sizes, but talk about clumsy - how does a person NOT notice he's wearing one shoe that is a full four sizes bigger than his own??????) - helped me stay focused and get out of the nursery with what I needed and nothing more. STILL, I held my breath as the check out girl ran our card.  I KNEW the money was there.  But, gah ... I was having too much fun buying tomatoes for it to end well.  It was fine.  Mike thinks I"m a total loon.  Andy has no clue about my money/panic issues STILL KNOWS I'm a loon.

Oh well, I had fun and I feel like I "won" too.  Color me stoopid. This is my world, weird and flawed and, did I mention weird? But, if you color me stoopid I will not share my Dark Prince, purple tomatoes. Then you'll be sorry! ;)  

And so it goes here. 

Behinder and behinder . . .

I just need to sit down every night and blog.  I used to be good about it.  Lately, eh.  I miss having easy funny stories at my fingertips.  Now, I have funny stuff, but if I told them they would be mean.  (*snort* jeans-tshirt-mime -- See?  Not funny, but the whole story IS.  It's killing me to be quiet.)

Time once again for me to go on a media fast.  Seriously, is anyone else paying attention to the insane world we live in and the insane people that are somehow in charge?  The more I see and read  the more I think it's not going to end well.  And, when I get like this, it's time to take a break.  I KNOW deep in my heart that most of it doesn't matter to me and those I love.  Being pissed off at people I don't know is not a useful way to spend time.  (Send money, if you care, for Andy's therapy jar, though.)

I've been struggling with the older boys - not in a bad way, but in a way.  Three teenagers are exhausting even when they're really good kids.  I fight the moments I just want to bang their heads together to get their attention.  Then , I think back and I'm really glad my mom didn't smash my head against one of my siblings or a wall (though she was certainly entitled if memory serves).  It's weird how tiring it is.  I was constantly physically exhausted when they were wee people, but back then they went to bed at 7:30 and I had ample time to regroup.  Now, I'm not physically exhausted, but I AM exhausted at the end of each day.  

That all said, we had a mostly great week.  The older boys continue to do well in their college(ish) classes and Andy is finally finding his groove with Math and Latin.  I let the ball drop today, though.  I got up with Mike around 5 am (yes, really I did - it's the only time we have to talk without kids wandering in and out).  Mike left for the Y around 5:20.  I was so congested and gooey from allergies, I opted to take one of Ian's BIG HONKING allergy pills before heading back to bed.  Ian takes these pills regularly with no side effects.  I take one and it's like downing a bottle of the old-good NyQuil.  

Andy woke me at 9 am.  I staggered out, helped him with breakfast (read I cut a bagel in half), laid out his math for the morning and went to "sit" on the couch.  My "sitting" on the couch ended around 12:45.  It was scary.  I woke up feeling like I was under water.  Once I was up and moving, though, I felt as if I'd had about 18 hours of sleep.  I may never sleep again.  Andy, no fool, had had Tim check his math.  He had Ian teach his Latin and he had Dan help with his writing drills.  All, while I drooled like an old St. Bernard on the couch.  No more HONKING allergy pills for me.  Shoot, I know better.  

Sorry to be gone for so long.  No good reason, just not feeling terribly cheery or "sharing-ish" lately.  No need to bring you all down to my level.  

Weekend plans?  Getting the garden ready to go.  Mike offered to help and he has NO clue what he's in for - I have sketches all over the place.  I want to go big this summer - I'm thinking learning to can stuff might be fun.  I'll make sure we get pictures.  

Hope all is well in your world.

Death of the Tooth Fairy

Okay - you're 11.  You know where babies come from.  You've pretty much figured out the Easter Bunny is as scary as you thought it was when you were three.  I'm okay with you being iffy about Santa Claus, I am too.  I kind of think he's real.

But, back to the subject at hand,  do you think there's a fairy that runs around and collects used teeth?  I don't think you do.  Do you really think after multiple orthodontist "screenings" some wee fairy from beyond wants your old nasty molars?  Yeah, I didn't think so either.  The deal is off.  You can leave that nasty molar anywhere you want (yes, in fact, I HAVE noticed that your nasty old tooth is following me - nice touch leaving it on the saucer of my tea cup) . . . you are not going to get paid for it.  Period. 

Really? Your butt isn't big enough?

Perusing the news this evening, I saw two items that made me go "Hmmmm. . . ."  I have yet to meet a woman who complains her butt isn't big enough.  Even my friends that share my lack-of-butt challenges still check the mirror to see if "this makes my butt look fat."  

Here, herbal medicines that will grow you a butt (your liver and potential for developing cancer be damned).  It's all about leaving a great-looking corpse, right?  Free range chicken is fine, but, it's all about the butt.  And, then, HERE! is a woman that died trying to enhance her butt, which if you go through the pictures in the article, was perfectly lovely before she started. 

I'm so glad to have sons.  I make them read these articles and we talk about real and not real/normal and not normal.  We talk about things like this and this.  We live in a strange, strange world. 

On being the fourth . . .

Andy is a typical fourth child.  With the older boys, Mike and I fretted over first foods, sugar, television, growth charts, and all the rest.  By the time we had Andy, we were worn out and had come to realize that, for the most part, none of it matters in the long run if you're involved and mostly conscious, it all works out.  

A young mom I know recently asked me how I potty trained Andy.  After some serious thought, I told her, quite honestly, I had no clue.  One day I just stopped buying diapers and he was using the bathroom.  The rest and the details?  All a blur.  Ask me about the other boys, I can pull up charts and books and all sorts of insane stuff.  In the end, they all use the bathroom equally well.  (Near as I can tell - I try to avoid their bathroom as much as possible.)

As a fourth, Andy has known a life of hand-me-down toys, books, and clothing.  I'm the oldest child in my immediate family and I was the first girl in my extended family, so I got everything pretty much new.  And, it was great.  But, I remember growing up across the street from a family with eight kids.  The three boys were older and mostly out of the house before I finished grammar school.  The older girls were our babysitters for years.  The younger girls were our best playmates.  And, how I envied their hand-me-downs!  They always had that look of comfort and coolness without ever having to break in a pair of jeans or having to stretch out a sweater.  I know they envied me my new clothes.  The grass is always greener and all of that . . .

Mostly, I think Andy is a cool little kid. Weird, sure, but I think there is an element of weird in true coolness, right?  His brothers think he's okay too  - they let him tag-a-long with them just about anywhere.  He has never second-guessed wearing their old jeans or shorts.  One of his prized possessions is a Green Day t-shirt Danny gave him in a moment of weakness.  That said, even I have limits.

This morning, I was trying to get warm and wake up while I unloaded the dishwasher (you know? the dishwasher that once again cleans the dishes!!!).  Andy got up and hopped into the shower.  He wandered out to the kitchen struggling with a belt.  I glanced at him and noticed the waist on his jeans bunching up with about 5 extra inches.  I moved closer and saw (from the tag on the back of the Levi's) that what he was trying to latch around his waist were a pair of MY jeans .  Flattering, but pathetic.  I've tried in the past to explain to Andy that the boy Levi's have numbers on the tags.  Girls' Levi's don't because most girls do not like to advertise that their waist and inseam are the same.  Apparently, he was in Peanuts mode when I told him this (Peanuts only hear wah-wah-wah when adults talk).  

I let him struggle.  He vanished for a bit.  I could hear clunking and clamoring.  Andy reappeared just as I was starting my first cup of tea (I love caffeine).  He was still sporting my jeans, but he had added a pair of Tim's (Tim is 6'2") long john bottoms to the mix.  The child had long johns up and under his armpits.  And, thus layered, he resumed his struggle with the belt.  And, I sat and watched.  

As I poured my second cup of tea, I suggested to Andy that he find the jeans that said 25" on the back and try those instead.  He went to find THOSE jeans and I sat and snorted and laughed and wished there was a way to take pictures of this stuff.  

Andy came back out, sans long underwear or belt BUT with jeans.  I told him that in the next year or so it would all work out.  By then if he pulls on my jeans, they'll be too short for him so there will be no question.  Wish us luck in the meantime.

Chinese New Year and the Super Bowl

and . . . all the other random stuff that constitutes our lives.  

Andy and I have been studying Oceanography this year.  We've finally moved out of tides and weather systems and onto ocean animals.  As we read and talked about mollusks, custaceans and fish Andy expressed an interest in dissection.  Hmmm . . . homeschool mom dilemma.  I have ZERO interest in dissecting anything.  Heck, I make dinner every day, isn't that enough?  Lucky for Andy, Mike is willing and able.

He took Andy and his best friend, Paul, to the local Chinese grocery store where they not only got to see some awesome Chinese New Year celebration stuff, but they also got to see a real Chinese market with fresh poultry, seafood and pretty much anything you don't find at your local grocery store.  They were there for nearly three hours!  They came home with one whole fish, one whole crab and a couple of clams.  

I gave Mike a printout of basic diagrams of  each creature's innards.  He and the boys set a table up outside and got to work.  They learned a lot.  I learned how much I love Mike.  And, then they headed inside to cook up their "catch."  It was a fun afternoon for everyone.

Sunday, we invited a few people over for the Superbowl.  By a few, I invited people and Mike invited people but all of the invitations were open-ended.  Why do we keep doing this?  It's hard to cook when you don't know how many people are coming to your house.  I made jambalaya, deep-dish brownies and also a Buffalo chicken dip.  We had chips and veggies too.  Our guests brought tons of other stuff and everyone in the crowd was stuffed and happy, even as the Steelers lost.  It was about 20 people last night, but we all sucked it up and ate like it was 40.  I think we're the REAL winners.  ;) 

I'm restless these days.  I cleaned up - everyone left by around 10 pm or so.  I did some laundry.  I paced around the house.  I need a project or something.  I just cannot figure out what I want to do that will keep me busy at night yet keep us safe from me repainting the entire house, baking us into complete heart disease or, as in my dream last night, spending every last penny we have on a "great"  deal for hardwood flooring.  For now I'm focusing on our spring garden which I can start planting soon.  Anyone have a good source for both hybrid and non-hybrid seeds?  I feel like I have enough experience I can start experimenting a bit . . .

Nothing too terribly funny to report these days.  Although, as kickoff was approaching for the game we were missing our neighbors from across the street.  Finally, they showed up.  I asked what the hold up had been.  They had been waiting to see at least one of our cars in the driveway before coming over - Dan had one car at work and Ian had the other while he was off doing a school project.  Man, things have changed since the days of a shut garage door being a signal that one or another or all kid(s) was/were in trouble and couldn't play or that someone is sick . . . we're going to have to work out some new signals for "Yes, one or more grownups is/are home." 

Maytag Miracle

For the past two or so years, I've been moaning and complaining about the fact that my not quite four year old dishwasher simply stopped cleaning dishes.  Granted, we use our dishwasher, fully loaded 2 (sometimes 3) times a day, but even under those tough circumstances, I think it's fair to expect five years. 

I just gave up.  We let the dishwasher sit there and started doing the dishes by hand.  This isn't that bad when you have six people pitching in, but I did notice our water bill went up noticeably.

The other morning, I saw on the local news program that I never watch because they are all far too perky and happy in the morning, a short segment on a recent surge on new dishwasher purchases.  The main complaint?  Foggy glassware, food left on dishes,  and oogy silverware.  Hello????  This was our situation entirely.  You can read the story here. Google if you want to read more.

I'm all for cleaner everything - environment, dishes, you name it . . . But, I'm also a fan of living in the 21st century and, for most of us, that includes a dishwasher.  (Can you hear the angels singing?  If not, trust me, they are.) 

I started reading more about this and decided to run a test here.  I added 1/4 c. of Borax to the bottom of the dishwasher along with dishwasher detergent in the regular thingie on the door.  Voila!!!!!  I have a working dishwasher again. 

It's awesome and wonderful.  Really, you'd think we discovered fire based on the kids' reactions.  I'll be checking the water bill next month - I'll try to remember to keep you posted. 

(I've also read great things about something called Lemi-Shine, but I haven't tried it.)

Civic duty? Check.

So, where did I leave off?  Selected for jury duty on Monday.  Tuesday I got to spend several hours with Ian (even with an appointment!) at the DMV getting his driver's license.  I guess if I'm going to do government offices, I might as well do them in bulk.  The DMV has to be the most soul-sucking place in our county.  I'm so looking forward to going back with Tim in June.

We started off well.  Ian took the road test with a nice man with a thick accent.  When they finished the test, Ian parked, turned the car off and said the DMV man said something to him but he didn't quite understand him.  He thought the man told him to go ahead and get out of the car.  Ooops.  The Suburban is old.  The passenger side door sticks and you have to kind of shove it open with your shoulder (or pay the $250 to fix it).  Ian got out of the car, locked the doors and started heading back into the DMV before he realized he had locked the instructor in the car.  Lucky for Ian, the guy had a great sense of humor.  (I keep telling myself that someday I will have a life where everything in my house, car and yard works ... until then, it is what it is.)

As Ian and I walked back to the car, Ian, admiring his new license, noted that MY signature was on his license not his own.  I was ALL done.  I told him he could drive me home and go back and get in line on his own.  Seeing his expression, I could just as well have given him a puppy.  He went back and got it all worked out.  Then, he gleefully drove Tim to track practice, stopped at the grocery store and went back and picked Tim up.  I know the thrill of running my errands will wear off, but I'm milking it for all it's worth right now.  

This morning, I had to be at the courthouse at 8:45.  I stayed up late making sure everyone had lunches and clean laundry and that Andy would be able to figure out his school work for the day.  I was up in plenty of time.  Mike and Andy left early for the warehouse.  The older boys left around 7:45 for their classes.  I got a shower, cleaned up a bit and threw dinner in the crock pot.  I knew if I left the house by 8:25, I'd be there in plenty of time.  

But, things never work that way here.  I made sure Scout and the guinea pigs had food and water, shut everything down and headed out to Mike's truck (we brought the warehouse truck home to make the whole jury duty thing easier - three cars makes a huge difference!).  I pulled out my keys and see that my key to the truck is GONE!  I was in heels.  Granted, for many women this is not a big deal, but as I've spent the bulk of the past 20 years barefoot (sometimes pregnant and, quite often in the kitchen), and for me it is.  I marched through mulch and mud to the back of the house, praying that I had forgotten to lock the sliding glass door.  I usually do.  I got lucky.  The back of the house was open.  I was only slightly muddy from the knees down.


I searched for the missing key.  As I was laboriously texting Dan to find out where the key was, I saw it.  It was now 8:40.  I raced to the truck and proceeded to hit every single traffic light between our house and the courthouse.  


As I ran into the building, I realized I had neglected to put a belt on my little worn (but totally cute) beige pants.  So, I arrived, muddy, shoes in one hand and and rolling my waistband with the other hand.  I asked the deputy scanning my nasty purse what happened to late jurors.  He just laughed and asked me did I really think I was the only person ever to be late?  As he was laughing and I was making sure my sweater was not tucked into my granny panties hiked way above the rolled waistline of my pants, I felt a tap on my shoulder. 


It was the deputy who had hauled my group through the elevators and hallways the day before.  I about jumped out of my skin.  He smiled and said, "I believe you're Mrs. Baker?"  He was just leading my group to the elevators.  Whew!  I could easily be typing this from prison if he hadn't seen me.  


(I should mention here that this is a relatively new courthouse, built since 2002.  I only learned a month or so ago that Andy has grown up believing - on his brothers' word - that convicted people are hurled from the tower to their deaths!  All of these years I've wondered why Andy flips out when we have to go in that direction.  Gah.  More $$$ for the therapy jar.)


We sat through about 90 minutes of instructions and testimony.  It did not take us very long to find the accused guilty of prowling/loitering.  I'm still thinking about it; the thought that a law enforcement person can arrest you for this and it's just your word against his, is a little creepy to me.  But, then again, most people don't do anything resembling loitering or prowling (unless you're me breaking into my own house).  When we returned the verdict, the prosecutor brought out a 2" thick file of this man's past offenses.  He's spent more time in prison as an adult that out.  

I left feeling like I'd done what I'd been asked to do, but I was also incredibly sad.  This man clearly had drug problems that led to his many arrests and convictions.  He was 51 years old and had nothing to show for his life.  He didn't sound educated when he was talking with the judge, but he didn't sound stupid either.  It's just such a waste.  So, of course, I came home and gave the boys a big lecture on not wasting your life.  :::sigh::: 

As far as the picture at the beginning of this post . . . the prosecutor was a beautiful woman in her early 30's (maybe) who is about 18 months pregnant.  I was getting heartburn just watching her stand up and sit down.  I wanted to make her put her feet up on the table.  But, from the side, this woman looked sooooo much like a very young Demi Moore.  Not often you see someone that gorgeous in real life.

I think I am worn out after this week.  I opted to make grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for dinner because I just wasn't inspired to do anything more involved.  I started making the sandwiches (no small feat here - between Mike, the boys and one of their friends, I was making 12 sandwiches just to get things started.)  The cheese (which we buy from the Restaurant Depot in large large quantities and store in smaller ziploc bags) was NOT melting.  I stuck it in the microwave, I was pressing a skillet over the sandwiches. Still, no gooey goodness. 


Finally, I just gave Andy a sandwich and got to work on the others.  Still, it was weird.  Ian's sandwich was up next.  He took one bite and came back to me and said, "Why are you making hash brown sandwiches?"  Gah!  I had frozen hash browns with some cheddar cheese in the freezer along with the regular cheese.  Well, that explained a lot.  Potatoes NEVER melt.  Oddly, 2 of the 5 boys eating were happy with grilled hash browns on bread.  Blech.  Once I started cooking with actual cheese, things improved.


Tomorrow, aside from getting house/car/truck keys made for everyone, I'm looking forward to a regular day of torturing Andy with math and Latin and nagging the older boys and NOT wearing shoes.  


How's your week going?

Oh Boy . . .

It's weird.  It really is true that half of us follow the rules and do what we're supposed to do and the other half assume the rules are for the first half.  The jury summons said in several places that you must be there by 8 am.  To me, this would be like asking a normal person to show up somewhere at 3 am.  But, I did it.  I barely even flipped out when I had to take my shoes off like at the airport and let weird police-ish people search through my purse.  What horrible thing did those poor deputies do to piss someone off enough to make them have to handle stranger's shoes and sift through a purse full of maxi pads, granola bars and lollipops?  (I am still carrying the bag I took with me to Universal last week.)  

Anyway, 1/2 of the 150-200 people in the jury holding pen were there at or before 8 am.  At 8:45 people were still wandering into the room and the judge who swore us all in and went through the general rules and exemptions did not even show until 9 am.  Really?  I could have slept for another 30-45 minutes??????   

As the judge went through the general exemptions, I was astounded at how easy it is to get dismissed.  First she asked if anyone there did not speak enough English to understand a whole trial.  Eight people raised their hands.  Of the eight, one woman had someone translating for her.  The rest were also exempted, but I'm thinking if they could understand what the judge was saying they probably had a decent grasp of English.  Next up on the exemption list were doctors and people who work in the justice system.  I get that.  But, when the guy in BRAND new (I mean the folds in his scrubs were fresh out of the bag) stood up and said I'm a cardiologist and was let go, I thought to myself, I could do that!  No one checked anything about him.  (Really, he looked nerdy enough to be a cardiologist and it would be pretty ballsy to fake it . . .  still . . . I think he should have had to show his doctor card or something.)  

And, then I sat for 3 hours, got a nice one hour for lunch and came back and sat for another 3 hours until my group was called.  I'm now nearly 400 pages into a book I don't think I like.  And my tailbone hurts and my neck hurts from sitting in the stupid hard chairs in the holding pen.  They frown on people sitting on the floor . . . sigh. I'm not sure why, but I'm certain someone has a reason.  I sat on the chair after my first two warnings.  

Sadly, I was stuck sitting next to Mr. Carlin.  (If you're not old like me, google Bob Newhart)  This guy spent the first three hours of the morning calling EVERY SINGLE person he's ever known to tell them he had jury duty.  Honestly, not one person picked up the phone, but he kept leaving long, pathetic messages on people's phones.  I had sympathy for him for the first 8-10 calls.  After that, I was ready to punch him square in the face - that's when I tried my stealth move to the comfy floor the first time. 

Can't talk about it, but I'm a juror.  I report Wednesday for what is supposed to be a 1/2 day and no more than a full day trial.  I think we all knew that was how it was going to work out.  I figure we're lucky, though.  It's easy enough for Mike to take Andy to work with him and Mike and my brother are both great about helping him with schoolwork.  The older boys have their college classes so they're covered too. I am a MUCH luckier than the woman I was sitting next to this afternoon  - she's a night nurse at a local hospital.  She arrived for jury duty right after her shift and we did not leave until 5 pm.  She had tonight off but was frantically trying to juggle things so she wouldn't have to work all night on Tuesday and show up for trial on Wednesday.  As we were talking about this on our elevator ride down to  parking, an older lady also chosen for the jury said she'd bring Snuggies for all of us.  We were all freezing in the court room.  

So, not my chosen way to spend the beginning of the week, but it's nice to know there are a lot of nice people out there who believe our system of government/trials is worth being inconvenienced every couple of years.  Now everyone cross their fingers that the nurse gets Tuesday night off and that Snuggie Lady pulls through!