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Thursday, September 21, 2017

do you remember...?

... the 21st night of September?

I went back and looked.  I did not write a blog post last year on the 21st of September.  Why is this significant?  I don't know.  I'm still wondering why the 21st night of September is so specifically referenced by Earth,Wind, and Fire.  Even Wikipedia didn't know:

"September 21 is the 264th day of the year (265th in leap years) in the Gregorian calendar. There are 101 days remaining until the end of the year."

Well, how enlightening.

But Meego informs me that even kids TODAY jam to that song on September 21st.  He was the one who reminded me that today is that day.

Me:  Fall officially begins on Friday
Meego:  Yeah, but you know what Thursday  is, right?  "The 21st night of September"!
Me:  <crickets>

What I WAS blogging about around this time last year was mostly about how woozy I was feeling all the time.  And now I remember. September 2016 was particularly drunken.  This September is mucho better.

Maybe the allergy shots are responsible, plus I've been doing the neti pot (as opposed to that other pot).  I honestly think the neti pot is making a difference because I started it before the allergy shots.  I just noticed that when I began to google "neti pot", I got "neti pot death" right away.

I don't plan on death by neti pot.  I only use distilled water.

Anyway, as unglamorous as it is, the silly thing seems to work.

So, upon that realization, I feel like dancing.  Get that disco ball spinnin' because I'm not!




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Linking up with Mama Kat for the prompt:
6. What were you blogging about last year at this time? How have things changed?


Tuesday, September 19, 2017

a real sh*t storm

Well, this is just gross.

As if there weren't enough reasons to abstain from the news, I came across this story of a local... runner.  It seems this runner has been making regular pit stops along her route through a normally laid back neighborhood.  In fact, I enjoy running near where she's been spotted - my beloved Mouse Town.

KKTV



I don't even really want to blog about it, but ever since I read the story and watched the video, it's impacted on my mind.  What is up with this person?  I call her "Mouse Town Pooper".

There's just no explanation, really, other than mental illness?  A park was recently constructed in a portion of Mouse Town.  Apparently, it was decided that the Preble's mice still had enough space to do their thing and keep on existing alongside a new park

So the park is complete with recreation AND bathroom facilities.  Brand new and operational.  

I imagine that, now that there are photos of her all over the local news, someone will come forward and put an end to this strangeness.

What I thought was funny about the story, however, is how the news channel actually interviewed a few people around the neighborhood and caught their comments about how gross and wrong the behavior is.

Like, we need to ask people that?



Friday, September 15, 2017

'til I drop

One of my least favorite but necessary activities is "fetching" groceries. I try not to complain about it because of the starving people out there - first world problem that it is.  But I just typically find it so mundane, traipsing around the grocery store, checking items off my list, dodging the other shoppers.

Then there's the waiting in line to pay for the cartload.  I'm always in the slowest line.  Every.  Time.

However, it's better now than in the "old days".  Now, there are self-serve checkouts.  Plus, I'm old enough to remember when cashiers actually had to punch in prices for every item.  Lovely things, those bar codes!

Monday, I used Walfart's pickup service for the first time.  Go online, fill the cart, pick a time to pick up the stuff, and... voila!  A wonderful Walfart's employee wheels the goods out.

It worked just as planned.  I didn't have to go in the store.  I didn't have to go through any register line.  I still had to drive there, but all in all, it was a wonderful thing and didn't even cost extra.  Really, I had NO problem with the fact that someone else picked my bananas.  

This, I'm sure, is in response to the power of amazon.com.  Many actual retail stores - the ones that have been able to remain open despite the amazon competition - are jokingly referred to as "Amazon Showrooms".

Who here has tried something out in a store, only to go and get it cheaper off amazon?  Anyone?  Admit it?

I have bought groceries from amazon too, but still had to wait a whole two days, so I appreciate that amazon lit a fire under Walfarts, of which there is one about a mile from my house.  About a mile away in the other direction is a Whole Foods - now owned by Jeff Bezos/Amazon.  It's been quite a while since I've shopped at "Whole Paycheck", but I'm curious now to see what's changed.





I remember when amazon first showed up as an online bookseller back in the mid-90s.  What a great thing it was.  I figured it would give used book stores a lot of trouble.

And now look, what an understatement.






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Linking up with Mama Kat again for the prompt:
2.  Write a blog post inspired by the word: books



Sunday, September 10, 2017

question

Things have settled into a sense of "normalcy", for lack of a better term, since I started the high school job.  I'm a month into it and starting to feel like I somewhat belong there.

I still have regularly scheduled time with one college tutee, and I have a couple of other high school tutees who occasionally call me in a panic.

Plus I'm getting to know most of my 250-ish students at the school a bit better.  They're a diverse group of good kids.  My hardest adjustment has been getting used to how ordered and by-the-book public school is.  In some cases, it's good and necessary, but I also think it's rather prison-like in others.  I'm not much for being a prison warden.

One student, who sports burgundy hair and a septum ring, told me I was "pretty chill", I think as a compliment?  Either way, I don't think that's a typical descriptor for a prison warden.

In the meantime, I have short conversations with a couple of crossing guards along my commute - nice ladies, as most all crossing guards are 😉.  Some may recall that, back in my crossing guard days, I had a daily customer fondly known as "Bike Lady".

I never did learn her actual name.  We would exchanged pleasantries, and I knew how long her commute was, but that was about it.  In fact, I probably wouldn't even recognize her anywhere else because of her bike helmet and glasses she always wore with a ponytail.

Now, it seems, I have become Bike Lady.

One of the crossing guards commented on the large amount of traffic, noting that the high school and middle school were neighborhood schools, yet hardly anyone seems to walk to school anymore.  I took this pic from my classroom one morning before the start of school.


No, that's not the parking lot, it just looks like one.  It's the steady stream of cars inching to and from the "neighborhood" school.  At least there's one representative on foot.

There are buses for students who live over a mile from school, and some of the cars are students and staff.  But a large majority are students who live less than a mile away, being driven to school and dropped off  by parents.

This is quite different from my own high school days.  Parents rarely drove their kids to school, and typically only on days when the kids had something big to bring to school, and only if the kid didn't have a driver's license.   I went to a relatively small school in a small town, so thought that might help explain the difference, but Magnum went to a big school in a big city where no one was driven by their parents either.

Is this a new thing now?  Did YOU get your own self to high school and back?

Inquiring minds want to know.

Love,
Bike Lady


Monday, September 4, 2017

this is bananas

... and water, and Gatorade.


Happy Day of Labor, my fellow Americans!


Meego and I got in some volunteer hours again this year with working Aid Station #9 for the ADT Marathon.  It was a nice day for it, not too hot or windy.  No rain.  A bit buggy, we found out



Winning times weren't all that fast.  First place was a rather sluggish (for first place) 2:50 and change.  But most seemed to be having a good time of it.  We had a couple of guys drop out at our station - we were at mile 17.  One had a knee injury and we never did find out what was up with the other guy, but he'd declared himself done.

One of Wolfgang's running friends from high school ran it and finished a respectable 2nd place for her age group at about 3:30.  I told Wolfgang last night that he should come down to our station and cheer her on.

"Ugh, it's so... EARLY"

So much for fan friends.





But these little cuties came down to cheer on Mom.

Actually, they enthusiastically cheered for everybody, but especially Mom.

Cutest things.








I think some proceeds from this race go to maintain area trails, so it was a good morning of work for a good cause.

We arrived at 7am, and expected to be able to pack up and go by about 10:30, but we ended up waiting for the Last of the Last - an enthusiastic woman in a rainbow tutu - who came strolling on through at around 11:30.  There was a full hour between her and the second to last.

But she was just so positive and enthusiastic and grateful, I'm glad we waited.  She's probably still out there.


Sunday, September 3, 2017

moving house

A large and very furry dog has appeared at the next door neighbor's.  He's clearly not a puppy, so I'm guessing the neighbors are dog sitting, or maybe have adopted an older dog.  I googled, and I'm pretty sure he's a Great Pyrenees.


It's a rather hot day today, and I don't think he's happy judging by the amount of barking.  I'm uncomfortable just looking at him.  But maybe it's his change of living quarters that has him a bit unsettled.

We had brunch today with my Mother-in-law and her husband.  They are in the midst of selling their home in New Mexico and moving here to a Senior Living Community.  So we had a little tour of their new house and walked around the place and ate in the dining hall.

It was all very clean and comfortable, their new house is nice, staff people are friendly.  Plus, they'll be close to us now and also to Magnum's sister who lives here in town.  But I could sense a tone of resistant acceptance from both of them.  It's an admission of growing old and losing some independence.  A situation that is not temporary.

I'm reminded of my own parents' resistance to leaving their home.  In fact, I'd hoped they would move to the very place my in-laws are moving to, but they wouldn't even consider it.  Moving out of their house was about all they could accept.  Leaving town was not an option.

Watching my parents, I would think to myself, "Well, if/when my time comes to admit I can't do it all myself, I'll know and be okay with it", but it's probably easier said than done.

As we were strolling the area, my stepfather-in-law mentioned that residents need to be at least 55 years old to live there, and I was all, "Wait... what?"  Magnum will be 55 in a couple of months.

No way we're that close to being eligible to live in a Senior Living Community.  Seems like I was still a kid just yesterday!




Wednesday, August 30, 2017

the beginning of the end?

I began getting allergy injections yesterday.  It made me feel... old.

When I first visited the allergist, Dr. Dllaf (don't-look-like-a-flower) seemed to have a quizzical look about him.  But since I'd never met him before, I thought maybe he always looked that way.

"So... why are you here?", he asked.  Did I detect an undertone of smirk?

I told him a bit about my history with stinging insects and dizziness for which allergies were blamed.  I mentioned how a well-timed bug sting on the eve of my annual check-up landed me in his office.  He asked a couple of other standard informational questions, then described the testing procedure.  Did I detect an undertone of ho hum?

The contrastingly energetic and friendly nurse then proceeded to conduct my allergy testing, leaving me with little itchy welts all over my back.  I'd failed.  Or passed.  Depending on the point of view.



Afterwards, Dr. Dllaf was back, but seemingly a changed man.

"Well!", he announced upon arrival, "You really ARE allergic!"

I was not surprised, why was he?

He was much more animated in that second conversation and talked to me like one would an intelligent person.  He even went on a bit of a tangent about current research in the world of allergies and asthma, which was quite interesting, but a bit TMI.

All the while I wondered, "Who is this imposter look-alike, and what did he do with that other guy?".  But I realized I liked this second one better anyway.

Fast forward to yesterday when I got the first of my injections.

The waiting area was populated with several other allergic people there to get their shots.  The average age was, I'm guessing, maybe 12 years old.  And that's only because there were a bunch of little kids who had parents with them.  Throw out the parents and the average would decrease considerably.

That's when it occurred to me.  Perhaps most allergic people get this thing done when they're kids. Similar to orthodontia maybe?  I looked around and didn't see anyone my age, or even really approaching my age.  Even the parents... 😕.  Oh wait, the guy who gave me the shots was probably from my generation.

I began getting allergy injections yesterday.  It made me feel... old.

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Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
3. Write a post that begins and ends with the same sentence.