It's a Tired Kind of Day in New England

But in a good way. In case you hadn't heard...

THE RED SOX WON THE WORLD SERIES!!!

I figured they'd blow the next few games so they could win in Boston, thus making for a hometown victory at Fenway and ensuring plenty of revenue for those folks selling commercial time and whatnot. But no, they swept it in four.

I have to admit, while I'm pleased as punch that they won, it's just not quite as much fun as it was last time. It's more fun to win when you're trying to break a curse, or because you're considered by the world to be underdogs and losers. This time, we went in unhampered by a curse and full of ourselves as one of the best teams in baseball. Is Boston becoming the new "Evil Empire"? Time will tell.

But I do know there are lots of tired folks who stayed up late last night to see them win. I confess I was not one of them. I'm a fan, but I admit that until I actually got to see a game at Fenway, I could have cared less about baseball. I'm still not what you'd call a rabid fan, but I do like to see them have a good season. And if you've never been to a game at Fenway, go before they raise the prices again and only Ben Affleck can afford to go. It's a magical experience.

In other news, we had a lovely time Saturday night at Raz and Shake's annual Halloween extravaganza. It could have been more fun if I hadn't felt slightly queasy the whole time and it wasn't raining buckets. We still trick or treated in Canterbury center, and the skies didn't open up until we were heading to the van, but we did manage to get a good soaking nonetheless. This is the third year in a row it's rained on our Halloween. Next year I'm going to dress both girls as the Morton Salt girl complete with Wellies, slicker, and umbrella, thus guaranteeing that it is sunny and 80 degrees that day. Or that it will snow. It could go either way. October in NH is funny.

Bobo opted for a Red Sox cheerleader costume. With orange pompoms. Whatever, she's three.

Bug started out as a princess. She paired her sparkly tulle skirt and black velvet leotard with white tights and brown shoes. Alas, the Dollar Store didn't have any princess accessories like a boa or a tiara, so she picked out a turquoise scarf and fur hat ensemble instead. She waltzed in the house with it and announced that she was a (and I quote) "pop superstar". I told her that if that was the case, she needed to find her toy chihuahua and put it in a purse to carry with her. I wish I'd had the foresight to go to Starbucks and get a cup of something for her to carry as well. Perhaps for Wednesday.

I love that my kid thinks like this.

(Normally, there'd be a pic of the girls in full regalia here, but Blogger doesn't want me to upload it. Screw them. I'll do it later. If I remember. If not, you'll have to wait until Thursday. Either way, keep your knickers on. I'll get to it.)

Mr. Poops got to go see the Patriots trounce Washington last night. His BIL occasionally uses his bosses' season tickets and is nice enough to take DH along with them. I bet it was cold. And boring, since it was a steamrollerish kind of affair. "Hmmm, I wonder if Washington can come back from this 51 point deficit?"

Not that I care. I'm a Packers fan, have been since conception. You cut me, I bleed green and gold.

GO PACK!

(Needless to say, DH doesn't feel the need to bring us anything back from the game. I'd not allow it in the house anyway. *poops shudders at the thought*)

Today is Monday. No choir tonight since they're painting the church this week and they're starting in the choir area. So we're having casserole night instead, since Wednesday is Halloween and we are otherwise occupied with Sister's Halloween party for the Lakeport kids, which I'll detail later on this week. Tonight is also Chief Baboo's congratulations dinner, so it's food of his choice. He picked Ma's macaroni and cheese (which is to die for) and Shake and Baked chicken with the bone in (the very thought of which currently turns my stomach). I'm going to bake him a cake that says "Hail to the Chief" on it. I should do that before I feel pukey. I have to do everything these days before I feel pukey.

Oh, and Chief Baboo gets sworn in on Wednesday as well, but as his coronation is at the same time as Bug's school Halloween parade, we'll have to go to that instead. I wanted to yank Bug out of school so she could go to her Baboo's pinning ceremony, but she doesn't want to miss her parade and party.

Crap.

Ah well, maybe he'll be elected mayor someday...

Et Tu, Milton Bradley?

Have you seen the "new" Game of Life? No longer do you need to count money or keep track of your funds! You get a card that you put in a reader that tells you how much you have and you just enter the info from each turn into the machine and it stores it on the card! Such progress! Heck, a monkey could play Life now!

I've already seen the Monopoly game that does this. Now I ask you...isn't part of the fun of Monopoly the stacks of cash in front of you? Of seeing what your competitors have--or better yet don't have--and then crushing them? Of cashing in a wad of 100's for some dark orange 500's?

I don't think I'm on board with these new moneyless board games. I think part of the fun and the challenge of the game is the money. Counting, calculating, sorting, banking, and spending money.

Some say it's a sign of the times. In a world that relies less and less on cash and more on cards that carry that info for us, this is just a logical progression. Perhaps. But for me it sure sucks some of the fun out of the game. Personally, when I bankrupt a loved one, I want him to hand me the cash, not credit my account. I need to wave the bills under his nose before I spread them out on the living room rug and roll around in them.

What kind of victory dance can you really do with a debit card?

Anyway, leaving board games behind, I snagged this meme from OLPP in the interest of making it the hottest meme this side of the Mississippi. Take it, pass it along. And let OLPP know so that she can enjoy the fruits of her labors.

1. Do you believe in ghosts?
Nope. I believe in heaven and hell and think your immortal soul goes one place or t'other. Not just hanging around here waiting for...something or other. Whatever it is ghosts wait for, I guess.

2. Have you ever seen a ghost?
No, which further cements my belief that they don't exist. That doesn't, however, keep me from being terrified of them.

When I was little I watched an episode of In Search Of with Leonard Nimoy, and it was in search of Ghosts. They had this story about a haunted house where lived two sisters. One sister wakes up in the middle of the night to see a ghost at the foot of her bed. It was believed to be the ghost of an escaped slave that had been killed. She screams, waking her sister in the next room. When sister gets to the room, she finds her dead of fright, eyes wide open and staring at the foot of the bed, mouth frozen in a scream of horror. So sister looks to the foot of the bed, sees ghosty there and proceeds to scream and die of fright as well.

To this day, I can't look at the foot of my bed in the dark for more than a few seconds at a time. If I do, I freak out and have to put my head under the covers.

But I don't believe in ghosts. So there.

3. Have you ever experienced something that is best described by the word “paranormal”?
Yes. I believe I know when people are going to die. Not any people, mind you. Specific people. When I hear that someone is sick, I will either get what I call my "black dress" feeling, or I won't feel anything. If I get the black dress feeling, they're going to die. If I feel nothing, they're not going to die. They will be fine.

Though sometimes I'll hear that someone has something like cancer and not get the black dress feeling, only to have it come on later on at some point. At which point they usually die, but not of the original cancer. Usually they're done in by pneumonia or chicken pox or something random like that. I seldom share this feeling with anyone. After all, if someone is relating to me that either they or someone they care about is sick, the last thing they need to hear is that I have a feeling that they're going to die. It's not cool. Thus, I prefer to keep the info to myself.

4. Do you watch any ghost or haunting themed shows?
No. But I do still love to watch In Search Of when it comes on in reruns. And if I ever saw the Ghost episode again, I'd probably shit twice and die.

5. If so, do you sometimes sleep with the lights on or wake up your partner because the show scared you a whole lot and you can’t sleep and don’t want to be awake alone?
No, but I will after watching true crime shows. I'm addicted to shows like Cold Case Files and American Justice, only if I watch them at night, I'm sure as soon as I go to bed and fall asleep that someone will come in and murder us all. But if I watch them during the day, I'm fine. No worries. I will wake Mr. Poops up and make him go downstairs and do a sweep for intruders. I hope his screams as he meets his demise will allow me and the girls the chance to get away safely.

6. Have you ever been to a supposedly haunted place? If so, did you experience anything spooky?
I don't think so. Though I live in New England and we have all kinds of oldish buildings here, so I suppose I must have been some places that are thought to be haunted, only perhaps no one told me they were.

Oh wait. When I was in college they used to tell stories about Carey Mansion, which was at the time a freshman boys dorm. For years, Salve students told stories about a nun who had hung herself in a certain room, and that was why it was always kept empty. They'd light candles and hold seances in there to try to call up her spirit. (My freshman year they made Mark Duphiney cry, which made me glad because he was a real douchebag to me. So there.) Of course it's probably not true since to my knowledge no nuns ever lived at Carey. So why one would chose that building to off herself is beyond me.

And my aunt used to swear that on some days she could smell baked beans cooking in her house even though no one was making them. She said it was the ghost of Mr. Currier, a previous owner of the house, making his beans on Saturday that he would then eat all week long. Aunt E. had a vivid imagination.

I've never smelled beans cooking up there unless someone was actually making beans.

7. How much do you love Halloween?
On a scale of 1-10, I give it about a 2. One point for candy and one point for the party that my friend Raz has at her house.

I have a degree in costuming and realize that I hate making Halloween costumes. I hated it when I was in school, I hated it as a professional costumer, and I hate it now. I do not dress up. You can't make me. I make the kids costumes only because I have to. And I make good ones because I cannot help myself. But I don't wanna. And please don't ask me to make a costume for you or your loved ones. I am going to give you a list of about 20 reasons why I can't, but the truth is, I don't wanna. I don't wanna with a passion. I don't even want to answer questions about what you should be for Halloween. I don't care. Be whatever you want.

I hate most Halloween parties, I hate scary things, and pseudo-scary things. I hate going trick-or-treating and I hate trick-or-treaters even more.

But I love candy. And I love Raz and her parties. So there you go.

Now Christmas, that's a holiday I can get behind.

So that's the meme. Take it. Love it. Make it your own.

Today, Bug is home sick. She's got a cold and is coughing and hacking. Such fun. Sucks to be her since it's going to be like summer here today and she'll have to spend the day on the couch. Oh well.

Actually, she'll have to fight me for the couch come afternoon. It's mama's couch time.

The Movies in My Mind

I swear, sleeping lately is like spending the night at the cinema. I dream. All night long, I dream. I have a dream, wake up, think about it for a bit, go back to sleep, have a new dream...lather, rinse, repeat.

It's exhausting.

I'm feeling okay. Still sick from time to time, mostly a bit first thing in the morning before I've eaten and then a bit after, but by the time I'm back from the bus stop I'm feeling in the pink. I'm ravenous by lunch, but then by two I'm usually feeling poorly enough to have to lay down on the couch for a bit. I was so sick Tuesday afternoon I couldn't make supper. Mr. Poops stepped up. Thank God he understands.

Funny how I can go from wanting very much to blow chunks to being freakishly hungry for something very odd indeed. Like when I've got heartburn, but my body tells me the only remedy for it is salsa. And it works. Or I'm so sick I can only stomach a couple of saltines, but ten minutes later I feel if I don't get KFC I'll just wither and die. And the greasy fried chicken turns out to be just the ticket.

It's odd.

In some good news, I'm down a pants size, and wearing pants I've not put on in quite some time. I can't weigh myself, being without a scale and all, and I haven't been counting points since my dietary needs are adjusting themselves a bit. Some days I just can't eat that many points, and other days I might be out of points but still have to eat something else to keep from being sick. It's a balancing act, to be sure.

And in more good news, friends of mine had twins last week! One boy and one girl and I'm currently working balls to the wall trying to get their sweaters finished. They're simple cardigans with a basic cable down each side of the front. The girl's sweater is pink with green cuffs, collar and button band, and the boy's is blue with yellow cuffs, collar, and button band. I'm hoping to get the blue one finished today so I can wash 'em up and pick out some buttons.

And take some pics, of course.

These are the ones that were going to be matching pumpkin hats and sweaters, but I couldn't find a washable orange wool that I liked and could afford, so I scrapped the plan and decided to wait and see what they had and start my project accordingly.

Hence the flurry to finish.

So enough chatter for now, I'm off to knit. Got work to do!

All the News That's Fit to Print

Well, it's officially official. After all, if you read it in The Citizen, it must be true.

Sister says her first act as First Lady will be to plant a rose garden at the house. For press conferences, I assume.

So yesterday I felt wretched. Wanna hear about it? Of course you do.

First off, I should tell you that I am not at 8 weeks, only 7. I don't know where I lost a week, but there you go. Me and Yorkie are due two weeks apart. Belly Buddies!

Anyway, about the badness. I was good first thing in the morning. I didn't eat before going to the bus like I usually do because I felt like I wanted a couple of eggs and I wanted to have time to both cook and enjoy them. I got home, cooked and enjoyed them. I settled into the recliner with my knittng and it wasn't an hour later that the ookies began. I had to lay down on the couch, I felt so bad.

At 11:30, Bobo was getting hungry, and all she'll eat these days is tuna salad. The day before it smelled so good as I was making it that I had a tuna melt for lunch myself.

Yesterday it was all I could do to get the mayo mixed in without actually retching. I couldn't even make it into a sandwich. I had to give her the bowl and the fork and let her have at it. She went into the bag of bread and snatched out the heel piece and just ate it that way with her bowl o' tuna. And proclaimed it "yummy." I made myself eat some plain pasta with a bit of butter and salt and shaker cheese. I got it down, hoping that it would squelch the nausea, and it did--albeit marginally.

I didn't get off the couch until 3. I had my Elixir of Life (Diet Pepsi in the can) and that settled my tum enough for me to go off to my back-to-back meetings that started at 5:30. I had some saltines and another Elixir and I felt right as the mail by the time Mr. Poops picked me up. And as I was craving KFC by that point, he went out and got me some.

I'm here to tell you it was the best damn chicken I've ever had. Ever. I barely tasted it, I ate it that ravenously.

Today I feel fine. In the pink, so far. Of course I'm convinced that it's because I called the Dr. and made my first prenatal appointment and now I'm going to miscarry. And the news of the pregnancy has now spread like wildfire, so of course that's also calling down the bad juju.

When did I get to be superstitious? It's so unlike me.

Que sera, sera, I suppose. I need another Elixir.

You'll Be Okay, If the Cure Doesn't Kill You

Why vodka can save your life. I'm pretty sure my mother already knows this. As a matter of fact, after a weekend with her granddaughters, I'm pretty sure she was on a Stoli's IV by dinnertime Sunday night.

So, some more exciting news from the home front. Sweet Baboo (you remember Sister's husband Baboo? We heart him. Because he does stuff like this...) has been named the new Police Chief at the LPD! The current chief is retiring, and the good Captain will be taking the reins on Nov. 1. Yay! It wasn't a complete shock to us because he's kind of been on the fast track for chief anyway, but it's still exciting news nonetheless. Chief! How cool is that?

They announced it at the station this morning and it was the lead story in the paper today. I expect it'll get heavy local press coverage. Ah woo.

In knitting news, I got nothing. Nothing on the needles that I feel like working on, nothing finished. I've really been too tired to knit much lately. And I'm not feeling well. Which is great news and I welcome the nausea, but still and all it makes it hard to concentrate. Or function much of the time if you must know.

I'll try not to kvetch too much about the ookiness that accompanies gestation. I'm trying to whine less and be more grateful for that which I've been given. I'll be at 8 weeks tomorrow, and while I know 12 weeks is generally the magic number at which the risk of miscarriage drops dramatically, something tells me that I'm out of the woods. I could be wrong, of course, but I don't think so. I think the pooper is here to stay.

Life is sweet. I gotta go take my apple crisp out of the oven.

Would That I Had Decent Pictures

I went to a wedding this past weekend.

People, they spent a hundred grand on this wedding if they spent a dime, I swear.

I've never seen anything like it and I've been to two World's Fairs and a goatfucking contest.

Here's the breakdown. I don't have the actual numbers, but you can get an idea.

First of all, the venue. Beardslee Castle near (in?) Little Falls NY. Lovely place. Top notch.

We stayed at a Best Western in Little Falls. When we checked in, we got a gift bag from the bride's parents. There were two bottles of water, two little nip bottles of booze, candy, apples, peanuts, and--get this--personalized candy and cookies. They ordered pretzel rods that were dipped in chocolate and then personalized with the wedding theme "Fall in Love" and two cookies frosted with the bride and grooms name.

They arranged a shuttle for the guests to get to and from the hotel where we stayed. It made two or three runs before the wedding and starting at 8 pm, ran every half hour until 2 a.m. Not some crappy school bus, either. This is the kind of bus you'd charter to go on a group trip. Think of a small charter bus. There were a couple of tables, regular bus type seats, and a big leather "couch" in the back. And a sink. Crazy.

Once there, we had the ceremony inside because it rained. Officiant fee...probably.

There was a photographer that was with the bridal party all day. He traveled back and forth between the bride and groom taking pics of their special day. He was there when we left at 11. And you know that all day fee doesn't include the photo portrait album.

And there was a videographer that was there the whole time too.

Once in the reception area, we found the open bar, which remained open all night. I thought it ended at 11, but dad told me today that after the reception, people went down to the regular bar for an after-party and the bar was open for the wedding guests until 2 as well. That's more than 8 hours of an open bar.

While the pictures were being taken, they set out hors d'oeuvres. Mountains of cheese and crackers, which were great. Then the servers started circulating with trays. I counted four different hot appetizers. They charge separately for those, you know.

Dinner started. They filled our champagne glasses, of course, and then they came around with the wine bottles. We had an appetizer course, a soup course, a salad course, a sorbet, the main meal (filet mignon and shrimp scampi), cake, and chocolate dipped strawberries for dessert. The wine gals came around during the meal too, lest you think the wine was a one shot deal. Oh no.

If you needed to use the potty, and with an open bar, who doesn't, you would find a basket in there courtesy of the bride's family with anything a party guest might need. Bandaids, Tums, mouthwash, floss, maxi-pads, clear nail polish...I can't even remember everything that was in there. One in each bathroom, of course, with manly things in the men's room. No pads.

The DJ played from 5:30 to 11.

On the table itself there was a centerpiece that was a fishbowl with a live Betta fish and floating candles. We took our fish home for the girls. It lives at Tanta's, thank you very much. There were three candy dishes shaped like leaves that were full of custom printed M&M candies with their names, the date, and the theme. You could take the candy dishes too. And each couple got a favor to take home--a small bottle of real maple syrup. They retail for about 4 bucks a throw.

We counted about 100 people including the wedding party.

You realize that all this stuff doesn't even include things like the cost of the bride's gown and accessories, the hall decorations, the clothing for the bridal party (the girls wore full-length gowns with full-length velvet capes), and transport for the bridal party. They had a limo, not the shuttle bus, nice as it was.

So I'm telling you, if they spend less than a hundred grand I'll eat that Betta fish.

It was the first wedding I've been to where I've been tempted to send a note to the bride's parents and thank them for including us in such a lovely party. Really, they thought of everything. Nothing was overlooked.

It was nice to get away for a couple of days. The ride west to NY was a nice one. We had good weather all through NH and VT. It was only raining over NY. Figures. As soon as we headed home, the skies cleared and we had clear weather all the way back. We got to do some leaf-peeping, though in all honesty I'm pretty used to seeing them. They change every year, some years it's just better than others. This year...meh. VT was very red, but NH and NY were more yellow and orange.

Ma watched the girls while we were gone. They painted pumpkins, decorated Halloween cookies, and went to the Walmart twice. Grammy was exhausted, but I think the girls would have stayed. As it was she needed a big glass of vodka and a nap.

Yesterday was crappy weather, but we went to the Sandwich Fair anyway. Usually I go just to eat my body weight in sausages, apple crisp, onion rings, french fries, and fried dough, but not this year. I was good. I had a clam chowder in a bread bowl which was nice and hot and hit the spot. We didn't stay long, really. It was very raw out. Bug rode a ride that stretched her neck all out and all night long she kept saying that her head was too heavy to lift, and this morning her neck was all stiff. She didn't say it hurt, so I dosed her up with some Tylenol and sent her off to school. Poor thing.

And today is Tuesday, back to business as usual.

I'm feeling more nauseous every day which is a good sign. I actually woke up feeling unwell this morning, which is odd since my morning sickness usually hits me in the afternoon. Weird.

General consensus is that we should have a boy this time out, but I don't know. We do good work with girls.

All is well so far.

Now I must go change some very stinky pants (Bobo's, not mine) and get my lesson ready for religious ed tonight.

Did you know that St. Fiacre is the patron saint of gardeners? He created beautiful gardens and was renowned for his healing ablilities, especially urological and proctologic aliments. The term "Figs of St. Fiacre" refers to hemorrhoids, a specialty of Fiacre's.

You learn some thing new every day. Don't you wish you were in my class?

The Cat is Officially Out of the Bag

So I might as well out with it.

I'm pregnant. 6 weeks along today. I'm probably going to white knuckle it until the first 12 weeks are up, since things are so dicey at this point, but still hoping and praying that all will be fine and things will go along swimmingly.

As for the how of the whole thing? Mr. Poops went ahead and scheduled his vasectomy for January since work is slow then and he will have vacation time available again. We did have the Very Serious Talk about "Are you completely sure you don't want any more kids?" and we both said that while we both feel like part of us would love another baby, there just wasn't a compelling reason to have one, and lots of compelling reasons not to.

So God, sensing our hesitation and seeing a window, made up our minds for us. And in a completely random act of what I will euphemisitically describe as "risky behavior", pregnancy ensued.

What are the odds? I mean, to get pregnant with Bugs and Bobo, I had to work at it like it was my job. I charted my fertile days, did all the stuff I was supposed to do to insure success, and it took a long time. A year with the first one and more than two with the second. So we kind of figured that yeah, it could happen, but really. What are the odds that it actually will?

And this, my friends, is why Poops doesn't gamble.

Despite being entirely unplanned, it is very welcome. I'd go so far as to say I'm ecstatically happy. Very content. A bit nervous that I'll actually stay pregnant, but other than that, fine. I'm a bit nauseous, but not too much. I'd actually be more reassured if I was sicker, but then I wasn't terribly sick with the first two either. Just ooky from time to time.

What concerns me is the cat being out of the bag. I miscarried with my first pregnancy. We had just told everyone we knew, and it happened, and we had to tell everyone to nevermind. It was hard. But then we told everyone with the two subsequent pregnancies and all went well, so I guess it's just stupid superstition to think that telling someone is the way to end a pregnancy.

But it's hard to wait and hold onto such a wonderful secret too. You just want to share the joy, you know?

At any rate, I'm due May 29th. And yesterday was my 9th wedding anniversary!

So, if you have any good thoughts to spare for us, some sticky baby thoughts that she or he takes hold and decides to stay, or any warm and heartfelt prayers to heaven that things go well, I'd sure appreciate them. God will do as he will, we know that. But I figure if enough of us pester him, he'll be sure to understand.

And I get to knit baby stuff for me! My mind is so boggled by that right now I can't even stand it!

The Mitten Queen Strikes Back

I've been making mittens again. Well, fingerless mittens anyway. I didn't have many in stock, and with two craft fairs looming in the near future, I thought I'd better have some ready. Plus, one of my knitters ordered a pair from me, and I needed to dust off my pattern and practice a bit. I've been sweater-happy lately, dontcha know. So this first pair is from WOTA and features a cable down the center back. (I also needed some cable practice for my special order.) This is called something like an inverted gull cable (?) or something to that effect. I know it's in the "gull family" of cables. I added amber glass beads on the cable and I think it gives an elegant effect. You will forgive me for the inadequate lighting, sub-par camera, and general unblockedness of the mittens won't you? Thanks so much, I knew you'd understand.
This second pair is made from Plymouth Boku. Which is surprisingly like Noro Silk Garden. It does not felt well. These came out huge for some reason, and I attempted to felt them. They did shrink a bit after a spin in the washer and the hot dryer (!). They have a wee embroidered design on the back of each one with wee glass bead accents. Who says your mittens have to match?
Klingon mittens! These are from Karaoke and for some reason I thought these would stripe more. I used it as an accent for sweaters for the girls and it just seemed stripier. You can't see the colors well because of the poor lighting, but these striped a lot like Noro too. So they start with purple at the bottom, but the left one progresses from gold to green, and the right one progresses from magenta to blue. Again, two mittens that don't match. These have a razor shell pattern up the center back that looked a lot like a Klingon's forehead when I was making them, and I added a single crochet border with picots in black as an accent. Fit for a warrior, I think.
Finally, a pair of simple 2 x 2 rib mittens. I showed one on so that you could see the magic stretchiness of the ribbing. These are made from Berroco's Jasper, and if it wasn't so freaking expensive I'd buy it again in a heartbeat. Merino wool and fabulously soft, with just a hint of self-striping to make it interesting. All the colors were so pretty it was hard to choose just one.

Anyway, that's what I've been up to. I have one more pair on the needles that I'll finish up today. Those are a discontinued Elsbeth Lavold yarn and they have a lace pattern on them. I ran out of the first ball and have to root around in the stash for the other ball that I know is in there somewhere.

It appears that the sun may indeed be coming out today, so perhaps these might get a bath after all.

In other non-knitting news, I have my first religious ed class tonight. My first class as a teacher, that is. I'm not all that nervous because there are only four kids in my class and I already know one of them. And she's a hot shit. I'm assured that the rest of the group are good kids too, so it should be a pretty easy year. I plan at the first class to enlist them in helping me teach a class that they'll like. Find out what they enjoy and how they'd like to proceed. Because apparently I can do anything I want to get the info to them. I figure if they have some input, they might be more invested in it.

I should have them take turns teaching. How funny would that be? That's the kind of thing I'd have loved as a student.

And this coming weekend we're off to NY for a wedding. My cousin is getting remarried. My mom is watching the girls for the weekend, so if you have any good thoughts to send her way, I think she could use them. (Isn't it funny how a woman who raised two kids in a generation where the dad didn't help at all is kind of tweaky about watching her grandkids for an overnight? It's not like she's not experienced or anything...I suppose they're still "someone else's kids" so that makes a difference....)

There's more news to come, but it will have to wait a day or two. In the meantime, talk amongst yourselves. I'll give you a topic: the Holy Roman Empire was neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire. Discuss.