Tag: onward


Up and walking, at least

18
September

Yeah, it’s time to hit the walking regime again. We got up at 5A, and now it’s just about time to race around for school.

I’m not in the classroom today and tomorrow. No, I’ve a sub (thank heavens, a very experienced retired second-grade teacher who will rein my little munchkins in) and two other teachers and I are writing LA common core curriculum for the district.

Between the three of us, I think we’ve got about 75 years of experience, maybe more. (Kind of scary they let us all out at once, and just wait until we all retire. I’ve got to be at the top of the experience list district wide now. Most everyone who was higher retired last year. I might be third overall. Geez, I’m old.)

The wedding is approaching at a gallop. I’m not adding anything to my to-do list until after the wedding. There’s just too much to finish up. I have eight tubs of files and papers to sift through here still and a bunch of stuff to simply organize.

My MIL is coming. D’oh.

The downstairs bath is mostly finished and there will be pictures to prove it in a few days. Walking past it makes me happy. And that’s what remodels are all about, I think. The spouse has decided it can’t be too hard to do the kitchen next. (I, OTOH, worry about the time that it will take. Foreeeeeeeeeeever and ever.)

It’s still mostly about school, but I’ve managed to crit another 40 pages of the manuscript in my custody. I have another 210. :P And there’s critting this week for the Posse, and a Freeway Dragons meetup. So I’m happy there’s writing in my life, even if it’s not actually my writing. Maybe next week.

Bit by bit, I am taking back my life.

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Today:

23
December

Bake cookies.

Bake cookies.

Clean kitchen.

Throw a few ornaments on the tree.

Make cookie dough. Chill.

Throw more ornaments at tree.

Toss empty ornament boxes in rafters with daughter. Find un-emptied box of ornaments and drag it back inside.

Bake cookies.

Wrap a present.

Clean kitchen.

Make truffles.

Clean kitchen.

Fling ornaments on tree.

Wrap a present.

Hang angels. Rearrange ornaments.Get last box into the rafters.

Clean kitchen.

Discover a small pile of boxes that were to be returned to the plastic box before it went into the rafters.

Drat. I’ll play with that tomorrow.

I still have to make the peppermint bark. I still have to clean the house. I still have to run laundry. I still have to practice music for tomorrow’s and Sunday’s masses. I have more presents to purchase and wrap. I have no stocking stuffers–and of course, the youngest asked about hers.

Apparently reaching the ripe old age of 25 and living at home means you still get a stocking. (Luckily, it only has to be filled with apple cider and candy, so I only have to hit Cost Plus.) Good thing I offed the Easter Bunny when she hit 21, or she’d still be begging for books. (What? Your Easter Bunny didn’t bring books? It’s not too late to support your friends/favorite book store!)

So yes, progress was made, albeit slowly.

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Hit the road, Jack

21
July

So far this morning, I have walked, worked on the pool and in the garden, cleaned the kitchen, and I’m just about ready to hit the gym.

The list of what I haven’t done stretches to the floor. I suddenly remember one more thing and one more. The latest is the recommendation for a friend that I was supposed to write earlier in the week. It sucks to be on the receiving end of a pink slip, again! in this job market for educators. And I thought it was bad when I first began teaching when the ratio of applicants to job was 400:1–at least the job stuck around once you got it.

Nowadays, you’re vulnerable to layoffs with seven years in the same district.

Writing? Nothing physical yet. Mostly spinning plot ideas in my head, and how I’m going to fix the bits of this novel and fill in those holes.

I’m all alone this weekend–the Daughter ran up to camp to surprise a friend for his birthday; the Spouse is at a completely different camp in the Pacific Palisades hills. Really, you would not believe there could be an undeveloped area like this location anywhere near these outrageously expensive homes, but the road to camp dips into a canyon which borders the Topanga State Park.

Two days of quiet.

And Harley–so it won’t be as quiet as it could be.

I’m ready to head back to school–I ended up at Lakeshore yesterday. There will be at least one more trip before school starts for laminating purposes. As it is, I’ll be working on lesson plans for the first month in the hopes that will make the lesson plans I have to turn in a little easier. We will see.

But for now, the motto is too much to do and not enough time.

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Too much to do and not enough time

2
July

Yes, I’m already running this morning, although I didn’t get started until 6:30A–a bit later than I’d wanted. I’m still running laundry for the trip to Mom’s and the weekend at Camp Whitsett so I can pack.

Camp weekends happen when the family decides to rotate once-a-month dinner get-togethers and the middle child’s responsibility just happens to come in July.

I made him promise me a real bed. Because camping out with 300 Boy Scouts? Nope. Not happening.

Harley is supposedly having a blast at camp. That would be the result of the raccoon under the floor in the middle child’s house that scratches at precisely 1A, 2A, and 3A. Harley is scratching back. And scarfing up whatever is dropped on the ground in the outdoor dining hall.

The daughter has taken on a sewing project. She has little or no patience with sewing, so this has been stressful. She’s cut things the wrong length (yes, you can make a skirt without a pattern–but should an inexperienced seamstress? Really? I blame Pinterest.), she’s had to make two extra runs to JoAnn’s for more lace. Twice. She’s ripped out stuff multiple times. She’s sewn through the side of her finger. Again.

I walked past my machine as she was roundly cursing it, sat down and tried to sew the seam she wanted sewn, and realized as soon as I heard it, I realized I had no idea when it had last been oiled. My daughter-in-law has done at least two quilts on it, and there’ve been other sewing projects on the part of my daughter. I’ve only sewn to mend a few things or when she begs for help.

One drop of oil later, it was sewing smoothly and things settled down.

This morning, the skirt is nearly done. I’m sure she can wrap it up tonight. She was anxious because I am leaving and who would she call for emergency sewing questions? The one possibility was not possible because the skirt is a gift for her.

Needless to say, I’ve been keeping my head low trying to stay far, far away from the project. She won’t learn if I have to bail her out, and seriously, I want her to learn. I just have to make sure I teach her how to oil the Bernina and she does that after every project.

Writing? Yeah. Not enough words. Not enough time spent butt in chair. There’s a garden and walking and enough stuff around her to keep me otherwise employed for hours.

But hey, a vacation is always good.

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Day two (or maybe three–does it matter?)

19
June

The good thing about vacations is that time morphs:

Mornings start later, last longer. Afternoons are peaceful and seem as though they last forever. Evenings speed up. And by bedtime, you wonder where it all went and how so little got done.

Well, not today!

Walking. Writing. Filing. In that order and with focus. Because otherwise it will never get done. I’ll have minor breaks–food preparation has become a big part of my day now that I’ve taken wheat and flour out of our diets. I have a voice lesson this afternoon, too.

But the rest of the day is mine. All mine. (And Harley’s, because he feels that I’ve been given this break to play and walk and scritch him. He’s actually a great paper holder–keeps track of the pile of paper I’ll eventually shred to make certain nothing escapes.)

I’ve joined the Clarion West Write-a-thon again this year, and if you wish to sponsor me (and support a wonderful program!), here’s my page. The goal this year is to finish the damn novel rewrite once and for all. I’m supposed to send it to the Freeway Dragons in early November, so it had better be done this summer. It’s not like time is going to magically double once school resumes.

Now for coffee. And maybe escaping the house for my walk without Harley. Maybe. He checks my feet to see what shoes I’m wearing. Tennis shoes? Walking! And Mom, you can’t go without me!

I’m running a little tired this morning. Last night was school-related thoughts that kept me awake and if I came to a little, I found myself spinning in the same space. That’s partially due to the fact that I got a note about kinder bootcamp teacher openings. There are three openings at my partner’s site, so I’ve got to check with her and see if she’ll be there or not. If she is… well. I’ve got to decide if I want to take the open job at my site. I’m not sure I want anyone else in my classroom other than her, and I’m trying to decide if I don’t want anyone else enough that I’m ready to do the job myself. (I’d be in the classroom anyway–school always starts two weeks earlier for me.)

So yeah, still spinning. And wondering if they’re going to demand lesson plans for Bootcamp, when it’s not a district program. (I’m still worrying about that, too. An hour a day for the darn things adds up.)

But now, it’s time to get hit the road! Harley’s looking at me with those big eyes, ever hopeful.

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