Graduation weekend

Well the weekend isn't over, but I'm over the hump.  The graduation hump, that is.

Yes, Curly graduated last night.  HURRAH!!!!!!!  DH and Moe and I all witnessed the event.

We are proud and grateful.  And much of the weekend was great.

The good:

• My MIL came into town (with her husband, who's never come here) and took us out to eat Friday night, along with graduate Amy and her family - my husband's sister, her husband, and Amy's little sister Tricia.  Larry didn't come - he was sleeping, but all the rest were there.  My MIL took us to a local Japanese place, the kind where they cook on the table.  We all had a really nice meal and enjoyed visiting.  This was the most generous with money I've every seen my MIL be - this was not a cheapie restaurant.  It was a really nice thing for her to do, and I'm grateful for it.
• My mother, my sister #2, and surprise! my nephew (son of sister 1 - he goes to UGA) came to our house prior to the graduation.  We had a nice meal here, pretty casual.  I fixed a sprial sliced ham, corn on the cob, broccoli, rice, whole wheat rolls, and tea.  Mom & S2 brought good cole slaw and a lovely fruit salad.  Plus, S2 went to her favorite bakery and brought a terrific chocolate and mint layer cake for the occasion. Mmmm.  It was good to see everyone, so nice that they went out of their way to come.  A good (if brief) visit was had.
• Amy graduated - she will be going to our state university on an Air Force ROTC scholarship, which should pay for everything, including room and board.  Good for her.  She deserves a break.
• Curly graduated!!!!  We're all so relieved.

The bad:

• The graduation traffic.  It was simply unbelievable, worst I've seen ever, and I've lived in this county since 1986.  Out of control, very little police presence, people parking everywhere.  Obviously no one planned for the enormous crush coming for 504 kids graduating from a high school on a two lane road.  We sat in traffic trying to get to the high school for a long time and then parked at a day care center a ways down the road.  The campus is huge for a high school (it's over 2300 students) and the stadium is at the far end, behind everything else.
• The crowd at the event.  It was full of mongrels and people with no regard for the event or for parents who were trying to view their children at this important time.  I swear, most of the crowd was absolutely feral.  I made my way down to get a picture of Curly getting his diploma, and was trying to set up my camera (I was still a long way away) when some idiot blasted an air horn right next to the only ear I have that works.  When I turned to fuss at this thug (who seemed amazed that someone would EVER say anything to him, what a jackass), I heard Curly's name called.  And I missed getting the picture.  I got a blurry picture of him walking back to his seat.  I was furious.  See what I got?
• My mother and sister.  They came over and were visibly uncomfortable in my house.  The last time either one came over was Larry's graduation in 2007.  They didn't really talk and were very stiff.  They left was soon as possible.  I'm very hurt.
• And last - but most incredible - the weather, and the decision of the school to hold the graduation outdoors.  Because it POURED almost the whole event.  I've never seen anything like it. It was pouring before the ceremony, yet they never went to the rain plan (ceremony in the gym).  Imagine, a high school graduation outdoors in the middle of a torrential downpour.  I felt so sorry for those kids.  Everyone was in their good clothes, good shoes, hair fixed.  Drenched like drowned rats, wading through the mud.  When we parked and it was dumping, my mother decided that she couldn't both walk the very long way and be drenched, so she and my sister (who was driving her) missed the ceremony entirely.  I ended up in mud up to my ankles with ruined shoes.

Want proof?  Here are pictures straight from my camera.  If you look past the umbrellas, you may see people in caps and gowns.

See - I wasn't kidding.  It was awful.

But the important thing happened - Curly has now graduated from high school.  Whew!

And another miracle happened today.  He asked to take his medicine.  I did my best not to jump up and down, and instead I dosed it out with little comment.  But this is a good sign.  We'll see if it continues.

Tatting and pain

I have been tatting.  Just a bit.

This went to a friend whose brother died recently.  It's done in my old favorite pattern, Mary Konior's Large Cross from Tatting With Visual Patterns, done in Lizbeth Caribbean size 20.

I haven't started my TAT Apprentice tatting yet.  I was trying to finish some UFO projects and free up some good shuttles.  But I really can't wait to get started!

I spent yesterday morning in the dentist's chair.  And not for just a quick visit - I was there for a good two hours.  Two fillings and an old crown replaced, the crown being in the very back of my mouth.  I had my entire lower jaw numbed and felt like I had a gorilla mouth until about noon.

But that wasn't the pain.  The pain was when I went to pay!  Yikes!  It had been a while since I'd had a crown, and they've gone up in price.  So when the receptionist asked for $500, I choked.

And at about 1 pm I had to choke down a bunch of ibuprophin.  The worst part is always the site of the injections in my jaw.  Ow.  But it's better today.

To add insult to injury, the tempory crown popped off before lunch today.  I stopped on the way home and bought some denture cream (per the dentist's assistant) to stick it back on.  I'll get the real crown glued on next week.

In other news, we are prepping for Curly's high school graduation on Saturday. My MIL and her husband will be in town, as Curly's cousin Amy is graduating with him.  Amy is a good student and will graduate with honors.  My second sister is coming - Mom is staying with her.  Yes, that's a change in plans, but it just seemed simpler, given how volitile Curly can be.  Sister #1 can't come (that night she's presenting a paper on Eudora Welty at a modern literature conference in San Francisco), but she is sending her son, a student at the University of Georgia.  So we will have a good family group together for our graduate.  I just hope the weather holds - there's a 50% chance of rain.  If it rains, the ceremony will be held indoors, and only 4 people per graduate can attend.

Cross your fingers for good weather!

A package and success

I got a package in the mail yesterday.  I'd been waiting on this one.

Yes!  The TAT Proficiency Progam test - I'll get right on it!

And after ripping out my mobius strip, my knitting looks better.

This looks more like cap potential.  I'm not ripping this out.  I think this will end up nicely.

Sophie, my little dumb white kitty, was crying and crying for petting.  AA! AA! AA! AA! she cries. Moe said, "Shut up, you stupid cat!"  "Moe, that's not nice.  She can't help it."  "So she's not stupid, just special?" "Yes, Moe."  "Shut up, you special cat!"

Failing at knitting

I was knitting on my little cap for the elementary school, when I looked down and realized that I was knitting a Möbius strip cap. There was a twist in the middle.

Um, I don't think this will work. It will never be a cap. Not in this world.  Maybe some alternate universe, but not here.

So I ripped it all out and started over.

Ain't life grand?

Humpday

A few little things.

• Wednesday = humpday, the middle of the work week.  And I humped it today.  The software vendor for my latest project was on site, and we busted it trying to deploy software.

• Clematis planted outside my office.  Many of my neighbors have these on their mailboxes, in several colors.

• Purple petunias too.  I like petunias.  I like anything that blooms, especially if I don't have to do much.  I did not inherit my mother's fondness for gardening, so I have few flowers in my yard.  I wish I liked to garden.  Mom's a Master Gardener.  (When she was in the Master Gardener class, we all referred to it as Massah G.)  I don't like getting dirty, so I ain't no Massah G.

• Still crocheting to beat the band.  I'm digging this simple waffle weave dishcloth pattern.  My mother did not inherit the gene for doing hand work - it skipped over her and landed on me.

• Why is it that the same size skein of this cotton yarn, same brand, crocheted with the same hook and tension and the same pattern, finishes up in different sizes?  It's a mystery.
• The dog is now spayed.  No more puppies!  She's now itching at her incision, but recovering nicely.  She'll be a happier dog.  Moe is sad.  He wanted more puppies.  Not me!
• I think I'm getting another flair-up of shingles.  Ugh.  I don't get many lesions.  I get the deep, piercing muscle pain; my right shoulder is killing me.
• I crave sleep.  When it's almost morning, my dumb white kitty jumps on me and dances on my hip with her happy little needle claws of joy.  Why me?  Why not DH?  Also a mystery.
• School is out a week from Friday. HELP!

Random Monday

Kinda overcast today.

I was out perusing the 'net, and came across this lovely collection of beaded beauty.  It's a fundraiser for curing colorectal cancer.  Really beautiful and inspiring.

I am working on knitting caps.  My church is sponsoring a local elementary school, the poorest in our county, and we are determined to make a cap for every child there.  (We're doing more tangible things too - like providing school supplies and mentors and backpacks full of food for kids to take home on the weekend.  These are very, very poor kids.)  It's good to for the kids have something warm that just theirs, not a hand-me-down or a cast-off.  And it makes ME feel good to help.

Three recent viewings of weird hair and no good pictures to speak of.  First viewing - African-American woman with a very elaborate braided 'do.  Said 'do was braided close to the head and two toned, with stripes of auburn and black hair (4 braids per stripe) swirling over her head.  Must have cost her a bundle.  I couldn't look away.

Second weird hair, seen on the train last week, a white woman whose hair must be originally solid gray. She had died her hair jet black. Nothing strange here - except that it had been a LONG time since she had done any touch up to the dye job, resulting in a 2 inch skunk stripe running down the middle of her head.  (This is one reason I Do Not Dye.  It requires much upkeep.)

the skunk haired lady is looking down in the middle

Third weird hair, seen in the waiting room of my internist's office.  A white lady there who looked to be about my age and her hair appeared to be light gray, in a short cut appropriate to her age.  Then I looked again.  All the front of her hair was gray.  The back half was jet black.  I'm not sure if she had a mega-version of the white patch that some folks had, but the division in hair color went over her head from ear to ear.  It almost looked like she was wearing a furry black hat, perched on the back of her head.

(Curly thinks I am bad for noticing these things.  I can't help it!)

I also saw another African American woman, young and cute with a sweet short haircut, who had dyed a lemon yellow swoosh of a stripe in her bangs.  Why?  People - if it's not a color known in nature, stay away from the dye bottle!

Since I've been crocheting, I got a wild hair and tried to do some crochet with tatting thread.  Maybe it's my crochet hook, but I could not make a granny square with Lizbeth size 20 to save my neck.

Crocheted Dishcloth

Quick info on how to crochet my dishcloth.

I'm NOT a good crochet person. I tat. I sew. I knit and crochet a bit, so this really isn't my area.  But it is fun and this is a nice little dishcloth, with a waffle type pattern.  And it's suitable for beginners.  I'm not going to do a tutorial because I can't do it justice. If you want to make the dishcloth, and you can't crochet, I recommend you start here. This lady gives great video instruction.

OK - here goes. These were made using Lily Sugar 'n Cream 100% cotton yarn. One skein makes a nice sized dishcloth or 2 small ones.  My friend Mrs. V loves these and swears they are the very best thing for washing babies, because the cotton is so soft.
 

For the smaller dishcloth, cast on 30 stitches. (For larger items, cast on an even divisor of three, like 36 or 42.  The green dishcloth is 42 stitches across.).

I like to start my first side in the back of the cast on loops. If you look at the chain you created, one side has a series of V-shaped loops. The other side has some nubs. I like to start in the nubs - it makes the first row look better.

Also, this dishcloth has a waffle weave created by alternating double crochets into the front and back of the stitch.  DCB is double crochet in the back part of the stitch, DCF is double crochet in the back part of the stitch.

OK - here goes.

Abbreviations:
ch = Chain
st = Stitch
dc = Double crochet
dcb = double crochet in the back loop only
dcf = Double crochet in the front loop only

• Ch 30. ( This is for the smaller dishcloth, almost a hot pad size. For larger items, cast on an even divisor of three, like 36 or 42).
• Foundation row: (WS). 1 dc in 4th nub from hook (counts as 2 dc). 1 dc in each nub to end of chain. 27 dc. Turn.
• 2nd row: Ch 3 (counts as dc). 2 dcf in next 2 st. *3 dcb in each of next 3 sts. 3 dcf in each of next 3 sts.Rep from * to end of row. 27 dc. Turn
• Repeat 2nd row to end until either work is square (small dishcloth) or it is at desired length. Fasten off, hide ends.  I single crocheted a loop for the smaller dishcloth.

Enjoy!

Dental doings

Today I had to go to my dentist for a cleaning and checkup. I am semi-good, in that I do go regularly to my dentist. But I am not a good flosser. And my family has bad teeth. (My brother, who is 8 years younger and has always had regular dental care, has only one molar on the left side of his mouth.) My mouth has a gazillion crowns. Once a little dental receptionist was looking at my charts and said to me, "Wow. When you die, can I have your teeth?" Um, no.

So I went to my nice dentist. And he IS nice, a very pleasant guy with a sense of humor. He's an excellent dentist, always makes Hotlanta's Best Of Medical list. Bonus - he's not as expensive as most in Hotlanta.

The folks in the dentist's office like me. I'm cheerful and funny with them, and I make them laugh. One of my very best friends works there. Poor Mrs. V was sitting in reception today with dark sunglasses on, as she was suffering from a migraine. Like most of us, Mrs. V is not made of money, so she comes to work no matter how she feels. I tried not to make her laugh today. I knew her head would hurt too much.

And I went back and sat in The Chair and talked to the dental hygienist, who's sweet. She started checking my gums for periodontitis, jamming the little stick into my gums. Ugh. I hate this. (Bad teeth, remember?) She wasn't saying the numbers aloud, just typing them into the computer. "Tell me the numbers!" I said. So she did. "2, 1, 2 - 2, 3, 3." (These are the depth she can poke into my gums. 0 is perfect - 6 is BAD.) "3, 2, 2 - 2, 2, 4." And then I was bad. Every time she took her hands out of my mouth, I started mimicking her, but with random numbers. "3, 8, 52 - 1, 14, 237." She got tickled.

In the end, she said my gums were MUCH better than the last time they were checked. Whew.

Then I told her I was stressed and started telling funny stress things. Like, when I'm stressed, I have weird dreams. I don't know if you have vivid dreams - but boy howdy, I can have some strange ones. In full color. And (as you can tell), I remember lots about them. (Can you tell I kinda had diarrhea of the mouth there?)

The latest stress dream was related to shaving my legs. Why this is a stressor, I don't know, but you can't control what you dream. The dream was somehow triggered by a commercial we see here in the States for a cell phone company. In the commercial, the girl has armpit hair that must be 2 feet long, waving in the wind in her boyfriend’s face while they’re on a tandem bicycle, and she says “Is this wrong?”

In my dream, I don't have armpit hair. I have hairy ankles. I feel something on my ankles and look down to find that the hair on my feet and ankles is dragging on the ground, kinda like Shire horses. Long enough to trip on. Why? That’s all I can remember of the dream, just my hairy ankles. Is that so wrong?

I told the hygienist about the hairy ankles dream, and she roared. Then she got to work on my mouth. I had to stop and ask her about the hidden trophy case that I know all dental hygienists secretly have, the one with pieces of their clients’ gums in it. I told her not to add to the gum trophy case today, at least not MY gums. And then she had her hands in my mouth and I had to shut up. I’m sure she was grateful for the silence.

Finally my dentist came in and checked things out. No good for me. He said that I need at least 1 and probably 3 crowns replaced along with 2 fillings. I said, "I guess you're planning on going to Europe this summer?" He said, "Well I had planned to go to Spain, but there was the volcano.." "You miss my point. You're going to Europe courtesy of me?" He laughed.  I made my next appointment.

An odd aside – I can make the sound of the dentist’s drill with my mouth at will. zzzzzZZZZzzzz It scares some people because it’s so realistic.

My dentist will be making the drilling sound – with the drill – on me in two weeks.

New attitude

No bitching in this post.  I promise.  I'm sick of bitching.

There were a couple of fun things I did this weekend.  One was my neighborhood Mom's Night Out, where we has dinner (catered by Moe's) and a movie.  We saw It's Complicated, which was really fun.  There weren't a huge number of ladies there, but enough to have a good time - we laughed a ton.  And at the end of the night, we all got a long stem red rose.  I like my neighborhood a lot.

The other fun thing (and this is weird, I know) was the new Aldi.  We haven't had an Aldi in my part of town before, and one opened last week.  I've been driving by it whil they were building it and I couldn't wait.  I'd heard great things about Aldi.  Moe and I went right after Sunday School.  Yes, I ditched the church service - oh, well.  Anyhow, my old grocery chain isn't going to get so much of my money any more, because Aldi totally ROCKS.  I mean, a gallon of milk for $1.48 is a steal!  We go through 4 gallons a week, so that's terrific.  Moe and I had a good time seeing what they had.  And bringing it home.  (Moe can be very nice company.  And he likes to go to the grocery with me.  What a good boy he is.)

Still crocheting up a storm.  I gave all the members of my Sunday School class their own dish cloth yesterday - everyone was pleased.

I'm sending this one to Mom.  It's a whole skein of Sugar 'n Cream cotton yarn.  Does anyone want my stupid little pattern?  I'll do a tutorial on it if folks request it.  (FYI - when I've shown my completed dish cloths to the Stooges, they each do exactly the same thing - rub the cloth on their faces.)

Curly is sporting a cast on his right wrist/hand.  The major plus?  He is physically unable to drive the scooter.

I've been getting free stuff.  I like free.  It's fun.  I've been sending off from places like this. (I never shop at that store - I hate it.  It is an evil empire and BAD.  Bad for the economy, bad for their employees.  But free is good!)  This is part of the recent haul.  Woo-hoo!

And - a tribute.  Lena Horne was a great lady.

My Mother's Day

This was my Mother's Day.  I am Charlie Brown.



I got:

• From Moe, a hug.
• From Larry, an apology that he didn't do anything.
• From Curly, a wrecked scooter, screaming and yelling, and a broken wrist.  Coming tomorrow, fun with the orthopedist with a kid a psuedo-adult that doesn't want to co-operate, and cast number 7.
• From DH, a card, a DVD I would never ever in a million years get for myself or watch, and a huge fight -  since DH is who gave Curly back the keys to the scooter, allowing Curly to go out at 2 am to buy a cigar and try and kill himself on the road.

Shoot me now.

He's legal now

Curly turned 18 today.  God help us all..

I don't have hardly any baby pictures of Curly.  Some, but none from the hospital.  This was because of 2 things - the first one is that DH double exposed the film that he shot when Curly was born.  And the second is because of the house fire we had in 1998, where we lost almost everything.  (That's another story.)

Curly at about age 3.  He liked weapons - that's a plastic sword.

Curly gave me the least amount of pregnancy issues.  I had pre-term labor and bed rest with the other two Stooges, none with Curly.  But when I was 8 months pregnant with Curly, I developed pneumonia and had to be hospitalized.

(There's a story with the pneumonia.   I'm not a big whiner with doctors, and this has caused me some issues when I do have a problem - they ignore me.  I got sick and went downhill pretty fast.  I had been sleeping sitting up, coughing, choking and gagging, for several nights.  The on-call OB had called in worthless amoxicillin for me, which I took dutifully and to no effect. Finally I called the OB and said "I'm going to the ER now." "But you have an appointment tomorrow. Can't it wait?" "NO!" So I went to the ER of the hospital I was to deliver at, and was promptly admitted, as my oxygen levels were in the 80's and I was having contractions. But no OB came, despite me sitting in a bed of the hospital's perinatal unit.  The on-call OB forgot about me.  So the next day I called the OB's office the next day and informed them that I wouldn't be at my appointment because I was next door IN THE HOSPITAL with pneumonia, and perhaps the OB might be interested. Said on-call guy was in my room within 15 minutes and fell all over himself apologizing. As well he should. He wasn't my primary OB, and I successfully avoided him from there on out, including the next pregnancy.)

I think he's about 6 here

Anyhow, I had Curly as a full-term baby.  He was 9 lbs, 7 oz and  21 inches, a scheduled c-section delivery.  As they were stitching me up, my OB (this was the good OB) came up and said, "I don't want to alarm you, but your baby has had trouble breathing and they've taken him to the NICU."  I was strapped down and couldn't do anything except whisper, "Okay."  DH had abandoned ship on me to call the relatives, you know, to do the hard part of having a baby.  Turned out Curly had something called persistent fetal circulation and had turned blue.  Anyhow, Curly ended up ok, but he looked like a giant in the NICU compared to the little tiny 1.5 lb premies.  He was hanging over the edge of the isolette, no lie.  He came home after about a week - we had him on a monitor for a month and had to learn infant CPR before he could come home from the hospital.

Curly right before 3rd grade

He's almost 6 feet tall now.  Obviously, he recovered.  In the mean time, I've probably taken him to the ER about 20 times and God only know how many visits to the pediatrician.  He's had at least 6 casts, all on arms or hands.

I may bitch about him, but Curly is known in my extended family as being really, really hilarious.  So much so that he was Funniest 8th grade boy, and got a high school senior superlative for the same thing.  He's very bright and creative.

He did this on purpose.  I'm saving this as ammo - will show it in the wedding slide show. There are others like this.

And he is now Legally An Adult.  And now Curly thinks he knows everything, and tells me so. "I know what I'm doing!"  Yeah, right.  He thinks he is all grown up, and can do everything himself.  Unfortunately, he won't really be a grownup until he realizes he can't do it all by himself, and that he doesn't know everything.

(Who am I fooling?  DH fits this bill - I thinks he knows EVERYTHING.)

Until then, I have to leave him in God's hands and pray that he will be all right.  I've done what I can.

I love you, Curly.  You're still my little boy.

Today I hate work

I've had a no-good-very-bad-horrible day today at work. 

(Ha!  In my writing dyslexia, 'today' came out 'toady'.  I knows me some toadies.)

By 9 am, I was already frustrated to the point of tears.  I'm buried at work and things aren't so hot at home.  I seem the only one who can make things happen either place.  Aarrrgh!

Yesterday I got a curt invitation to a meeting about a software project I'm involved in, an invitation with no details.  (I'm the tech person for the project, doing installation and configuration and support.  And the person who is the project manager has ditched, leaving me holding the bag.)  I went to the meeting and was ambushed with questions from 25 people.  I handled myself well, but I will not go to one of those meetings again without knowing the agenda.  I don't like bows and arrows pointed at me.   I like to be prepared, with answers shielding me.  Next time, I will decline this invitation.  And this may slow down how the progress on this project.  (Translation - this group needs to not bite the hand that feeds them.)

My company is insanely political.  I don't do office politics well.  I can't lie or suck up.  I don't keep a file on everyone I work with. Instead, I have this unreasonable expectation that I will do a good job, and if I do good work, I won't get kicked in the teeth for it.  Yes, it's crazy, I know.  But that's the kind of gal I am.

I need some time off fiercely.  Some ALONE time.  No work crap, no home crap.

And to top it off, the access to blogs at work has been severely restricted.  How dare they restrict my little bit of fun!  So I'm not reading Jane or Melissa or Martha or Heather or Jen or ANYONE until I get home.  Damn.  I mean, I need to get my snark on before lunch!  What's a girl to do?

On the home front, Curly is recovering.  His arm is very sore.  I tried to get him to hold still for a picture of his scabby arm, but he wouldn't do it.  He went to his psychologist yesterday, which is better than not going.  Now if I could take him to his psychiatrist and then force feed him his meds, we'd all feel better.  (My dad used to go off his meds periodically.  It was BAD.  I used to ask Mom if she could slip him some Zoloft in his coffee....)

And I'm mindlessly crocheting, still.  It's all my little mind can manage.  It's soothing.

Why can't I just relax?

PS This made me laugh and laugh.

Attack of the ID-10-Tee virus

The ID Ten-Tee virus is running rampant through my household. (Write out the number and the letter of last syllable. You’ll see what I mean.)
Last night, at the end of watching Glee, I got a frantic text message from Curly. His school is out at 8:30 and he should have come straight home. But he had refused to answer any text message all day, and it was then 10 pm, way past when he should be home.
Curly had an accident.

FYI - Curly is still living in the tent in the back yard, defiant. He refuses to take his medicines or go anywhere near his psychiatrist.

Curly crashed his scooter about 10 pm last night on the way home from screwing around after school. He is pretty bruised and scraped up but not seriously injured. He is VERY lucky. The scooter is banged up but drivable. He didn't hit anyone - just lost control on the road. I think he flipped the bike over a guard rail. I know he hit his head - he said he wouldn't have teeth without the helmet.
DH and I have really laid into him because of his lack of safety gear. He was wearing his helmet, but he had on a black t-shirt, dark jeans, flip-flops, and nothing else. No leather jacket, no safety vest, no real shoes. His left foot is badly bruised and swollen and his left arm has big sections with no skin, but he won't accept medical help. DH threw away the flip-flops immediately.
We took the keys to the scooter. It is ours, not his. He’s to get it back in a few days, but with restrictions. No night driving except straight to school/work and straight back. No dawdling. Shoes and protective gear at all times. Reflective vest worn any time cars have headlights on. NO EXCEPTIONS.

DH and I both have been passengers in cars where pedestrians wearing dark clothing at night were hit by the car we were in, and the pedestrians were hurt badly - in DH's case, the guy died. Curly has no clue how invisible he is on that scooter at night. We laid into him hard about this, and he was mad that we did. Too bad.
I'm buying a roll of reflective tape to wrap the scooter in. It wouldn't have made much difference in the accident, but it may prevent him from getting hurt another time.
This is about the 4th time he's done something to the scooter in the short time he's had it. This is just the first big thing. The scooter's pretty scraped up.
And – the virus spreads. DH gave Curly the keys back this morning. I didn’t find it out until later. Son of a bitch.

You know, DH doesn’t always mean Darling Husband. What is it with guys not using the head on top of their neck?

Tuesday

We had a ton of rain Sunday night.  It made today's drive in foggy.

I had an early meeting, so I got off extra early and didn't take the train.  I won't be taking the train this week - it will be way too slow.  There was a lightning strike on the train tracks on my side of town, so they are single-tracking the trains.  This causes big slowdowns, so no trains for me until the track is reapaired.

I had a brief talk with my mother yesterday while I drove home.  "Are you coming for Curly's graduation?" I asked.  "I wouldn't miss it!  I'll be staying with your sister," she responded.  I couldn't take it.  "We would like you to stay with us."  She lied and said, "You'll have so much going on, too much for company."  (My sister has active construction going on in the house they moved into 3 weeks ago with their 3 children.  Mom has seen the pictures of my painted guest room.)  I pointed out the she has never once come to stay with us in this house, a place we have lived for 10 years.  "But Crazy Mom, you're always too busy.  It's never been convenient for you."  Liar.  "Mom, you never let us know when you could come.  And I'm tired of the Stooges asking me why their grandmother comes to town and never visits them, why doesn't she love them?"  Long silence.  "Well, perhaps I should stay with you this time." "Good idea, Mom.  We'd love to see you."

I think I was pretty damn diplomatic.

I'm still making dish cloths. Sumpin' dumb to do while I watch The Big Bang Theory or Glee.  Mindless fun.

A minor diversion

The bearded iris are in bloom.  (What's the plural of iris?)

And I've been crocheting dish cloths.

I'm addicted to them.  They are mindless fun.  I bought cotton yarn in many colors  I may make each of my Sunday School ladies one for Mother's Day.

Evening Conversation

I got home from a pedicure and quick trip to the grocery (steak!) and had this conversation with my spouse:

Me:  I guess they already had the Derby
DH: I heard some horse won it.
Me:  That's usually they way it works.
DH: Yeah, that's the way it's been since the 1830's, when they started using horses and stopped racing midgets.  Horses are more reliable.

Good and Bad

First - the good news.

This week, I talked to Curly's high school counselor, a lovely person with an adult bipolar son who's off his meds.  She's very sympathetic of our situation, and we commiserate a lot.  I found out that IF Curly finishes all his night school classes (and he is on track for this), he will graduate May 29th with his high school class.

Whew. 

I'm not thinking too hard about this until Curly actually finishes his classes.  Night school ends before regular school - he will be done May 13.  And he has to take two end of course tests.  But I'm not worried about these tests - he's never scored below a 95 (out of 100) on any end of course test.  His first test on Monday.

I'm not sure what he will do after graduation - continue working at Target, I guess.  But I'm not sure what else.  And he is completely off his medicines, still living in the tent in the backyard.

(BTW - my MIL is coming for the graduation, as the Stooges' cousin Amy is graduating from the same school.  My MIL could not be bothered to come for Larry's graduation.  The good part here is she is NOT staying with us, so murder will not happen.  God is good.)

Right now, Curly is off to a prom in the next county.  He wanted me to foot the bill for a tux, which I wouldn't do.  We finally convinced him to wear a suit.

And he looks quite fine in his suit. He's very excited about the prom. And I hope he has fun.

I just tatted this item for my bloggy friend Julia.  Her mother in law died suddenly right after I started to make this, so I've sent this off with a nice sympathy card.  Julia is a lovely person, and very talented.  Go see her blog.

Now the bad news: DH did NOT get the damn dog spayed.  And now she's very pregnant.  Anyone want puppies in July?