The Right Choice

One week of teaching down. 35 to go...

Tonight was the FIRST FOOTBALL GAME. I've come to know some band kids, some football players, some cheerleaders. Students have been asking me for the past couple of days..."Hey, Mrs. G...are you going to THE GAME????"

I was non-committal. Frankly, I was exhausted. This teaching thing...it's not for wimps. "Hmmm...maybe. I'm not sure right now. I'd love to see the band!"

In the end, I was still at the school at 6:10 on Friday. I'd hardly seen my husband or my own child all week. I opted to go home and skip the game.

At 7:30, a HUGE storm blew in. POURING rain for nearly an hour.

May I just say..."I'm glad I WASN'T at the game"?

Take my money. Please.

It's hot and humid, there was a snafu with Isaac's school schedule, Dave's worked until after 8 every night this week. School starts on Monday, for better or for worse, with me at the front of the classroom. There are just enough things still left undone to make me edgy. This afternoon I made one last trip to the Big Box Office Supply Store and crossed one more thing off of my list. Happy with my progress, I exited through the automatic doors.

Picture a table at the exit, covered with goodies bearing the D.A.R.E. (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) logo, and manned by a young lady, maybe early 20's.

She said:
"Ma'am, we're helping out the people at DARE today. May I tell you about the program? Do you have young children?"

I said:
"My youngest is 17, and I'm well aware of the program. I have a very high opinion of it. All of my kids participated in the program in elementary school"

"Would you like to purchase a t-shirt or mug to help fund the program?"

"No, not really, but I'd be happy to make a donation."

"Ummmm...like how much were you thinking?"

"$10.00"

"That will get you the mug or the t-shirt".

"I don't want the mug or the t-shirt, but I'll donate the $10".

(Rummage in wallet...pull out a ten, try to hand it to her).

"Well, there's tax involved. It's really $10.83".

"But I don't want the mug or the t-shirt. I'm just making a donation".

(Insert very confused look on girl's face)

"So what do I do with the t-shirt? I don't think I can take money unless you pay the tax"

(Picture me trying to thrust money toward her, and her backing away from me)

"But I don't want anything in return. I'm just DONATING THE MONEY!"

"Well, should I donate the shirt to someone, then?"

(My turn to look confused).

"Ummm, sure, that's fine with me".

"But you still owe me 83 cents!"

I did not pay 83 cents. Nor did I pass go, nor did I collect $200.

My children remind me occasionally of the year I danced with the Salvation Army Kettle Santa Claus. That's got nothing on the year I argued with the D.A.R.E. t-shirt lady...

Six Sox August Knitalong

The designers at the Six Sox group have a real winner with this one! The pattern is called "I Love Ganseys" and the stitch patterns are typical of Fishermen's sweaters from the British Channel Islands area. I'm using a merino wool/silk blend yarn which is extremely soft and fine to work with, even if it's not totally in keeping with the original intent of the patterns.

Lots of ribbing in an amongst the cables and seed stitch hearts, so these aren't nearly as narrow as they appear.

Overheard

Something you do not want to overhear while waiting for the child to finish getting the haircut for the senior photo session two days hence:

"Maria! Can you come show me how to fix this?"

What's in a Name?

Elizabeth sent me an e-mail last week with an exciting image attached. It seems her new business cards are ready, advertising her new status as a software engineer in neat block letters. I e-mailed back, complimenting her on how professional her name looked, all printed out like that.

Rarely have I experienced such an exquisite case of "open mouth, insert foot".

She might have warned me that she'd be calling less than 24 hours later to announce that late next year, she'll be needing new business cards, as she'll be changing her name.

I can't say that the news was particularly surprising, but the timing did catch me off guard. Due to the couple of thousand miles that separate us, my sister-in-law and my mother will have the fun of seeing "the ring" before I do, and the mother of the groom will be handier for consultation on "details" as the wedding approaches, but e-mails and phone calls have been flying fast and furiously between central Texas and the East coast.

Elizabeth and Matthew, we wish you every happiness. May you always find as much joy in each other as you do today. May you support each other, respect each other, laugh and celebrate with each other. I love the fact that your shared website already refers to you as a family, for you each will be, from now on, the most important person to the other. A wedding is for a day, but a marriage is for a lifetime.