Possumblog

Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.


Friday, September 20, 2002

Aaaaaaggggggghhhhh! Make it stop!

Just got out of a meeting in which I find I now have to do ANOTHER stinkin' PowerPoint presentation similar to the digicrap I had to do a couple of weeks ago. ::heavy sigh:: Well, at least it is blessedly close to the weekend, which will consist of Baby Girl soccer, Boy soccer, and Middle Girl soccer. Thank heavens they are all playing at home, and at different times. We got their schedules the other day and went through making a matrix of times, dates, and young'uns and luckily there is only one week which will require that Mom or Dad be rapidly cloned to allow one or the other to be in two different places simultaneously. I think we're going to handle this by letting one of the kids ride with a friend who lives in the neighborhood, rather than the painful and costly cloning procedure. (Although I have tried to convince my wife that she should allow herself to be the one duplicated. I think she almost bought it until she realized I was suggesting it for the most purely selfish and carnal of reasons. Dang it.)

After all that soccer stuff, sometime in there I've got to go have a teacher's meeting at church, and another time in there is supposedly some time for housecleaning and laundry. And in there somewhere is an intense desire to sleep for about 24 hours. And sometime in there will probably be a child trying to roller skate down the stairs. (Although Tiny Girl tearfully promised never to do it again after the first time, I believe that she still thinks that she could do this. Refer back a few days to my post about her running down the hill at the soccer park.)

One of the regular readers of this gomswaddle asked how we managed to do all this stuff. I really don't know, but were I to hazard a guess I would say it's mostly through an intense disregard for our mental sanity. The fence between comedy and the asylum is very weak. Not to mention those big areas where there IS no fence and there is frequent wandering to and fro across the property line. Luckily, the children take it all in stride, and have come to expect things from Poor Father such as "Not ANOTHER word! You hear me!? Well say 'Yes, sir!' then!" They really ARE good kids, and they are diligently saving their pennies in order to one day be able to put me in a very nice place with a floor drain and soft, squishy walls.

Until then, or until Monday, whichever comes first, I bid you all have a happy weekend!


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