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.

Monday, May 17, 2004

Okay, let's see how much I can get done in the next hour 45 minutes.

Meeting to go to, and I haven't gotten to all the rich and meaty chunks of weekend to blab about. SO--Friday, rushed home, grabbed Boy from the loving confines of the house and headed back across town to Homewood. Huge backup at Lakeshore, which meant getting to the park was YET ANOTHER stress-inducing exercise, but we did get there in time to not get a parking place. Absolutely jam-packed. Finally found one at the bottom of the hill, and also found I had snagged a bit of chicken wire underneath the car that was causing a terrible sound. No time to fix that, so we unloaded and hiked back up. Good game against a team from Smithfield. Boy played like he was on fire--lots of actual running, stopped a few players, lots of kicks with some actual heat on them. He said later it was because he had turned 10. Whatever, he played his best game ever. And the boys all played good for a change. No one hogged the ball, they stayed spread out in their positions, they actually PASSED the ball. Good game. Wound up tied at 2.

Would like to have tied up the lady I was sitting next to. For some reason, all of our parents sat near one end, and I wanted to be closer to the middle so I could see better. The other team's parents were between our parents and the centerline, and I suppose I could have gone on and sat by myself on the other side of them, but people think I'm antisocial enough, so I became the last person in the row, sitting right next to a big screaming crazy insane woman who insisted on running up and down the field hollering BOOM anytime one of their players got near the ball. When she wasn't doing this, she was standing there in front of me. It was not a fun experience, and I finally had to stand up to be able to see what was going on.

Game over, and we decided to go get a bite to eat--I wanted a hamburger, and after pulling into Rally's, Jonathan decided he wanted a taco. ::sigh:: I was going to insist he eat a burger so I wouldn't have to go somewhere else, but then I saw there was no way to drive in the right direction without first driving right by Taco Bell. So we stopped at Taco Bell. He was very happy.

On to home, where the girls had gotten back not much earlier after going out and doing his birthday shopping, so at 9 p.m., it was PARTY TIME! I suppose if you're one of those hoity-toity big city dwellers, that sounds awfully early for partying, but for Ma and Pa Kettle, it was just additional exhaustion.

Anywho, he got three GameBoy games and a pair of swim trunks, and the aforementioned Dragon Ball Z cake. Again, a very happy time--and he made sure to save a piece of his cake for his teacher. I'm not sure if she will want it today. Boy's father, who is rather sweet on his teacher, insisted on making sure she got a corner piece, then Boy's father proceeded to drop it upside down into the plastic box, then after turning it right-side up, put the lid on it and nearly smushed it flat. It sure looked less high when it went in the box. It certainly was after I got through with it. Maybe she'll be charmed, thinking it was Jonathan who made such a mess out of it. He'll probably tell on me, though.

To bed for them all, because the next day was going to be another one of those days.

Up early, started rousting kids. Plan was for all of us to go to Cat's game, then separate and let me take Jonathan to Riverchase for his second game as Reba and the girls went to the band cookout, then all meet back up together at Liberty Park for Rebecca's game, then after we got back and got cleaned up, go eat supper with Reba's mom and dad for Boy's birthday. Quite a plan, that. And here I was, actually thinking I would get to cut the grass...

Got to the park on time for once, watched Cat's team win their game and see yet more examples of why some people shouldn't be allowed to be around children, then headed out with Jonathan to the next stop. After first having to run back by the house to get something we forgot. And I can't remember what it was now.

On to Riverchase, and was gratified to see that their concession stand was actually open for once, bought some sunflower seeds from the expensively dressed-down lady inside and got Boy an ice cream sandwich. The game was pretty good, but they were forgetting all the good stuff they had done the night before. Might have been the heat or something, but they looked like their old selves. Managed to only lose by 1-0, though, so I guess it could have been much worse. We left the huge mess of sunflower shells and headed back up I-459 to Liberty Park to wait on the girls, who brought us some burgers and hot dogs from their cookout. Almost still warm! Mmmmm.

Rebecca's game (their last of the season--yea!) was against the Vestavia Steamers, whom they have done well against in the past. Same thing this time--final score 4-2. And a remarkable amount of pushing and shoving in evidence from the opposition. They don't usually play like this, but again, it may have been the effects of the heat and lack of substitutes, but they were getting real ragged and playing poorly and appeared to be trying to make up for it anyway they could. As always, though, the best salve for poor sportsmanship directed at you is to make sure you win. Convincingly.

Now then--what comes next? Have to wait a bit--gotta go meet. Mmmmm. Meet!

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