Sunday, November 12, 2006
Lost and Found
You know how the gods laugh when you make plans? Well, they do worse when you laugh at the foibles of others.
We visited friends who have a daughter older than Lucy who'd just moved to a new house, and when we left they gave us a bag of great clothes their daughter had outgrown. A few days later we got a frantic phone call. During the move, she'd hidden her diamond earrings in a pocket of a dress she'd given us. How crazy is that?
Not that crazy.
Two weeks later, Kevin and I are going out to dinner, and I am going to wear my baby baubles--the necklace and earrings he'd designed to commemorate the births of Conor and Lucy, respectively. But they're not there. And I can't find them.
I spend the next few weeks in a search and recovery mission. Eventually I realize that I must have hidden them the last time we went out of town, but where? Kevin thought they were stolen, probably because he couldn't believe I would lose them. Turns out I'd outsmarted myself--they were hidden *really* well, in a drawer I'd searched before. I mean, I was waking up in the middle of the night with thoughts like, under the bookcase in the office! I haven't looked there! Or, in the freezer! Oh, no, what if we ate them accidentally!
My friends in Texas have safes in their houses, and it doesn't seem so crazy now. (The cash and guns they keep in there, now that's crazy!)
You know how the gods laugh when you make plans? Well, they do worse when you laugh at the foibles of others.
We visited friends who have a daughter older than Lucy who'd just moved to a new house, and when we left they gave us a bag of great clothes their daughter had outgrown. A few days later we got a frantic phone call. During the move, she'd hidden her diamond earrings in a pocket of a dress she'd given us. How crazy is that?
Not that crazy.
Two weeks later, Kevin and I are going out to dinner, and I am going to wear my baby baubles--the necklace and earrings he'd designed to commemorate the births of Conor and Lucy, respectively. But they're not there. And I can't find them.
I spend the next few weeks in a search and recovery mission. Eventually I realize that I must have hidden them the last time we went out of town, but where? Kevin thought they were stolen, probably because he couldn't believe I would lose them. Turns out I'd outsmarted myself--they were hidden *really* well, in a drawer I'd searched before. I mean, I was waking up in the middle of the night with thoughts like, under the bookcase in the office! I haven't looked there! Or, in the freezer! Oh, no, what if we ate them accidentally!
My friends in Texas have safes in their houses, and it doesn't seem so crazy now. (The cash and guns they keep in there, now that's crazy!)
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Readathon
I participated in a readathon in my youth. I can't remember exactly how old I was, but it was 4th or 5th grade, I think. The pledges were per book, and I managed to read 42 books. I had to get another piece of paper to list them all. It was quite shocking for the people who had pledged more than the typical nickel or dime per book--especially the neighbor who pledged a quarter a book, for a whopping $10.50! I remember that she paid the full amount, even though my mother made me offer her a discount. (That's like paying $40 today.)
This is back in the day when they sent you out to knock on doors to ask for money. Maybe it was living in a small town in Ohio, but we were sent out A LOT to go door to door to get pledges or sell things. There was no asking your parents to sell it at work! Between Camp Fire Girls, school, and softball, we sold (or tried to sell) a lot of junk. I remember the glass jars of popcorn, various kinds of candy, ceramic bells for Christmas, but I know there was much, much more. And that's on top of the paper routes we had, which meant knocking on doors to collect the money for that. I'm surprised anyone opened their door to a kid in our neighborhood!
Conor's school is having a readathon, which is great, except he doesn't really read books yet. So we read to him, then write down the books, and turn in the sheets to his teacher. Why this turns out to be so much work for us is beyond me. Especially since he's not out knocking on doors getting pledges. We're bugging friends and family (but only those who've bugged us before, or who don't have kids), and then we'll write a check, too. The only upside is that I can now officially start with the 'you have it so good, back in my day' lectures.
I participated in a readathon in my youth. I can't remember exactly how old I was, but it was 4th or 5th grade, I think. The pledges were per book, and I managed to read 42 books. I had to get another piece of paper to list them all. It was quite shocking for the people who had pledged more than the typical nickel or dime per book--especially the neighbor who pledged a quarter a book, for a whopping $10.50! I remember that she paid the full amount, even though my mother made me offer her a discount. (That's like paying $40 today.)
This is back in the day when they sent you out to knock on doors to ask for money. Maybe it was living in a small town in Ohio, but we were sent out A LOT to go door to door to get pledges or sell things. There was no asking your parents to sell it at work! Between Camp Fire Girls, school, and softball, we sold (or tried to sell) a lot of junk. I remember the glass jars of popcorn, various kinds of candy, ceramic bells for Christmas, but I know there was much, much more. And that's on top of the paper routes we had, which meant knocking on doors to collect the money for that. I'm surprised anyone opened their door to a kid in our neighborhood!
Conor's school is having a readathon, which is great, except he doesn't really read books yet. So we read to him, then write down the books, and turn in the sheets to his teacher. Why this turns out to be so much work for us is beyond me. Especially since he's not out knocking on doors getting pledges. We're bugging friends and family (but only those who've bugged us before, or who don't have kids), and then we'll write a check, too. The only upside is that I can now officially start with the 'you have it so good, back in my day' lectures.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
The Day After
Kevin was back in town in time for trick-or-treating, Lucy had a costume she'd wear, and Conor got enough candy to satisfy him before his legs gave out. Kevin and I even found a house with Jello shots for the adults! And this morning, Conor woke up and threw up. (And then wanted more candy.) He's downstairs now, watching a DVD of the original Electric Company--which he's declared is boring. Oh, yeah? Imagine no DVD's, no VCR's, and to find out it was the only thing on--YOU HAD TO GET UP AND CHANGE THE CHANNEL! Now that's scary.
Kevin was back in town in time for trick-or-treating, Lucy had a costume she'd wear, and Conor got enough candy to satisfy him before his legs gave out. Kevin and I even found a house with Jello shots for the adults! And this morning, Conor woke up and threw up. (And then wanted more candy.) He's downstairs now, watching a DVD of the original Electric Company--which he's declared is boring. Oh, yeah? Imagine no DVD's, no VCR's, and to find out it was the only thing on--YOU HAD TO GET UP AND CHANGE THE CHANNEL! Now that's scary.
