Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Knew it All Along

to everyone but my dear Nicole, I apologize for my rambling nostalgia today.

The letter arrived on Saturday, and it's official: Fezzik has been accepted into the Gifted Program.

This means that he'll go to a different school next year, and he'll finally ride the bus (not sure if it's the short bus or not, but wouldn't that be funny?). Also, it means that I will miss out on my "daily" walk to school, as the new school is a long way from our house. If I had all the time in the world, or valued my sleep a little less, I could do it, but get real. I didn't get into the fantastic shape I'm in by walking 6 miles a day. This school starts half-an-hour later than the current school. The job that I need more than I adore will require him to ride the bus so that I can drag myself in at around the same late time as I do now.

It also happens to be my dear alma mater - Go Tigers! - and looking down the road, the 4th Grade teacher for this program was my 2nd grade teacher back in the day. I remember a particular incident in which Joel was yanked out of class for general naughtiness, and everyone in the class thought he'd been spanked. Big deal to a 2nd grader, but I'm sure he just had a Stern Talking-to. I also remember Steve drawing pictures of Porche 911's all the time. The same Steve whose mom drove him to school in the L'Eggs Pantyhose van, no kidding. Nicole, were you in this class with me? Do you remember this crap? Why is it still stored in my brain 25 years later???

It's weird living within a 1-mile radius of the place I grew up. I drove by The Homestead the other day, and noticed that my best friend's house, across the street from mine, is for sale again, the second time since her parents sold it a few years ago. Sadly, we still can't afford it. Even worse, the new owner has laid the groundwork to subdivide the gorgeous half-acre lot into 3 (!) separate lots. What about the barn, where we held our Very Important Barn Owls Club meetings, the one that Lucky the horse called home? Please, New Owners, don't tear down that barn. Get yourself a nice donkey, rescue yourselves a thoroughbred (it's been done - Lucky was a case in point), or why not have a few goats instead? It's the history of the place that's important. Pff. Money. Also, New Owners: the closet in the Blue Room makes for the best hiding spot during Hide And Seek, due to the convenient laundry chute into the laundry room half-a-floor below. Just FYI. And the basement can be conveniently lined with shelves; it is spacious enough to house every issue of National Geographic from 1955 on, and still fit a ping pong table. Make good use of this house, it's a great one.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Happy Mother's Day

Been battling a combination of bacterium and viruses (is that viri?) this week, but I do have a few pictures from before we got sick.

We went to the Seattle Tilth Spring Plant Sale last weekend, and while we were playing on the playground, we stumbled upon Dave Matthews, who was there with his wee toddler. We kept our cool, just smiled warmly at him, and he seemed like a really nice, involved dad. Oh, yeah, we bought some plants too.

Lawnboy and I are considering starting a new blog about our garden, because we're just that nerdy. We're using Steve Soloman's low-irrigation method wherever possible (my cherry tomato in the pot gets watered, thank you very much), so it should be an interesting year. We also figured out what kind of bug had the nerve to drill holes through our carrots last year, and have grand plans to avoid the bastards with floating row covers this year. The potato issues are still very much a mystery, but we planted some more this year as we got them as a gift from my coworker (thanks Sharon!).

My laziness knows no bounds, especially on this holy day. I told the fam that I wanted a day of "gluttony and sloth" but I don't think I'll realize that goal, due to the fact that my Weight Watchers meeting is tomorrow, and Tiny Giant Two was up at 5:30 this morning. Smiling though, so I can't complain.

We're off to Dad's for at least a little gluttony!