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, May 28, 2004
It's getting on toward that time.
Weekend coming up, and no soccer games to go to! How very odd. I do have to take Middle Girl over to the middle school (how apropos) tomorrow morning so she can run laps with her team members--they're trying to stay in shape, which is good. Rebecca put on a LOT of weight the last time we were between seasons so she wants to stay in shape, too. (Mostly it was just natural growth, but there was a bit too many calories in there as well.) After that, it's over to Granny and Granddaddy's house to help Pop put together a basketball goal that was a birthday present for Boy. Pop doesn't have a whole lot of handy skills.
Sometime in there I intend to cut the grass. Being that I now have tons of leisure time, I believe I will be giving it a trim both in the front and back (thus doing away with my lawn mullet) and go around everything with the Whirring Two-Stroke Engine of Death, and edge all the concrete parts with the edger. Such FUN! The shrubbery trimming yesterday was likewise an enjoyable experience, after I repaired the short extension cord that plugs into the hedge trimmer. (An ancient Black and Decker model that has an annoying habit of chewing through electrical cords.) I don't remember cutting it, but it was half in two, so I got out the wire nuts and electrical tape and made a first-rate fire hazard for myself. But it works just fine.
After that, I finished going through all the kids' stuff from the past year--found yet more incriminating evidence of occasional lapses in willingness to complete assignments, as well as empirical proof that the mind of a 14 year old is a complete cipher. You'd think a particular someone was being held captive in a dungeon or something based upon some of the notes that were carefully folded and wadded up into hunks the size of a Chiclet. ::sigh:: It'sonlyaphaseIt'sonlyaphaseIt'sonlyaphase...
Managed to get the car tags just fine today, although it did take thirty, never-to-be-recovered minutes standing in line with...
yep, people. Actually, the only guy who was bothersome was the guy right in front of me--50-ish, long gray hair styled in wings which he fidgetted with constantly, golf shirt, annoying manner of looking around for people with whom to engage in conversation, cell phone--which had to be used to call someone when he couldn't get a sufficient number of people in line to talk to him:
YEAH! HEY, IS TOMMY THERE?
HEY! ASK HIM IF HE REMEMBERS WHEN I CALLED DOWN HERE THIS MORNING AND THEY TOLD ME THERE WERE ONLY TEN PEOPLE IN LINE?
WELL, I'M HERE NOW, AND TELL HIM THERE'S THREE HUNDRED AND TEN PEOPLE IN LINE!
TELL HIM I'LL BE IN IN A LITTLE WHILE!
He looked around to make sure everyone caught his joke. 310! Such a card. The line was pretty long, but no longer than it usually is at the end of the month, but this guy acted like he had been living in a cave or something. The revenue director was strolling around and making sure the line kept moving and everyone was in the right line--their office also does business, boat, hunting and fishing licenses, title transfers, and driver's license renewals. Of course, none of them had a line of people.
Anyway, some lady came up and asked if they were going to be open Monday. No. But the director said that you could pay on Tuesday with no penalty since it was a holiday Monday. Had I known that, I would have sat here and not gone all the way home and back.
I'm always uneasy about going home during the middle of the day--I keep thinking I will walk in on some parallel-universe family using my stuff and eating my food.
Oh well. Thankfully, the bonus day idea pinged into Mr. Golf Shirt's consciousness, causing him to take his leave of us. You could feel everyone relax after he left.
Got to the front of the line by the elevator and chatted with the director for a bit. I started to just hand him my check and tell him to run it to the cashier for me, but you never know how a person might react to that.
Paid my money--$338 for three vehicles. Ouch. Then back here, and now, back to Trussville.
All of you have a great weekend and holiday. I'll see you all Tuesday.
"The Soldier's Faith," by Oliver Wendell Holmes.
Comments: Post a Comment
free hit counter
so what if they're mostly me!