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, August 06, 2004

Noon

Back now--mission accomplished and then some. Met the teacher--yet another young pleasant girl. Catherine was so interested in the goings on in the room that I had to haul her back to me and make sure she actually SAID something to her teacher--she had just wandered on past without stopping. OOOH!! SHINY THINGS! Put away her stuff, wrote down some information, said our good-byes and were on our way.

Run the security gauntlet at work, go upstairs, get my moolah, sign my timesheet, run back downstairs, stop by the ladies restroom to make sure my little lady went, stopped by the mens room to make sure my little feller went, and then GRRR! Got caught as we were going out the door by one of the guys at the permitting desk wanting me to review something. "They said you were out today."

Well, no, you know I just ALWAYS show up at work in a tee shirt and jeans with two kids.

Yes, you silly man, I am out today. "I AM out today. I just came in to get my check and I'm running late already. Did you call and see if [unnamed coworker who is thinks she's very sophisticated for having voted for Perot] is here?"

"She's in the field."

Translation: She's out doing whatever she wants to. Or taking an extended smoke break.

"Did they say when she'd be back?!"

"No."

The problem with the request is that I WAS running late, and in order to verify all the information I would have to go back upstairs and basically go to work--login, call up the district info, then figure out if I even needed to bother with it. "Well, I tell you what, just keep calling up there and when she gets in, she can handle it."

Not what the counter guy or the guy with the application in his hand wanted to hear, I know. And any other time, had I not had the kids with me and actually not been on my way somewhere else, I would have done it, and in fact, I have done it before. Oh well, you know how those gummint employees are.

On to see Mom, then on to the bank, then on to get some breakfast, or more accurately, brunch, at that well-known purveyor of high quality brunchiness, McDonald's. Breakfast had been put away for about twenty minutes. Fine, whatever, but I have to tell you right now that eating a cheeseburger at 10:30 is a bit heavyish. I tell you, they would make a ton of money if they were like Waffle House and served breakfast anytime.

On over to Nuncie's, was waited on promptly and efficiently and picked out the cheapo reeds. Sorry, but I just can't see paying 30 bucks for those fancy Vanwhoosiwhatsit sticks--it's just too much for my parsimonious Scots blood.

On the road again, back to Trussville to the high school. Dropped off Ashley's immunization form and turned in her dough to one of the band directors. She's sold 40 of those blasted discount cards so far, and gotten $18 in donations, to boot. We've been trying to concentrate on the garden home subdivisions next to ours. The houses are close together and close to the street, so you can move faster and get to more customers. They also tend to be younger families without kids in high school band or sports or cheerleading who are ALSO selling cards. Only ten more to go and she'll have paid for her spring band trip.

Home, to see that the girls had indeed not hurt each other or burnt the place down. Amazing, especially considering they were watching West Side Story. They had even folded the towels and underwear as I had asked!

Now? Off to the middle school to meet Rebecca's teachers and stow her junk, then something else later--something about cleaning a particular toy-strewn room...


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