random ramblings

A bit late, I know, but it's been a busy day.  We got around as quickly as we could this morning, and headed up to Odysseus's parents to visit and pick up the imp. 

Grandma and Grandpa put the imp up against a door facing for a proper measurement (as best anyone can get him with the way he ducks his head between his shoulders like a turtle).  They got 44.5"--I think he's a little taller than that.  He's still just barely under forty pounds, but he's a solid little bar of muscle.  I have never before my son seen a small child with six-pack abs.

About three weeks ago, my pixie started telling me "I want my princess watch!" 

"But honey, you don't have a princess watch."

"It's at Wal-Mart.  We gotta go get it."

So, Friday, she finally became willing to use the potty chair for #2.  I'd told her Friday morning that if she would, we'd get it for her. 

She did.  So we went and got it for her last night.  She wore it all day today. 

Tomorrow's gonna be a little busy, too--my pixie kept her pants dry all day today, so she gets to pick out a new dolly (baby or princess) tomorrow. 

What is it about cats that they think the perfect time to run up and down the hall and judo-throw each other around is after the kids have gone to bed?

The dog has acquired a charming habit.  She refuses to eat her food out of a bowl.  She prefers to chase the bits around the kitchen floor, eats the dried chicken bits first, and eats the kibble part as an absolute last resort, as in "They won't feed me any more with fresh chicken pieces in it until I eat this crap.  Darn it."

My students are going to be turning in their first papers on Wednesday.  It would be Monday, were Monday not Labor Day.  So, I'm gonna be spending two hours on Wednesday and an hour on Friday grading papers as fast as I can.  I want to see how much I can get done in my office hours. 

Writing is going very well.  I'm thinking I may be able to get a copy of Highway to Tartarus finished, revised, and in my awesome beta readers' hands (drop me a comment if you want to be a beta reader) by mid-October.

FFOT: fallout

Yesterday, a friend of mine was hospitalized because of changes to her insurance.   It's insisting that, for maintenance medicines like her diabetes testing supplies and insulin, she cannot use a local pharmacy, and must mail order three months' worth of her prescriptions at a time.  And neither the doctor's office, the insurance company, nor the mail order pharmacy are cooperating.  She ran out of both her meds and her testing supplies a week ago.

The same friend that went off about how her Aspie fiance should just man up and grow up, and learn to deal with changes and disappointments is now saying that my friend should have just done something and stayed on the insurance company, doctor's office, and pharmacy until she got what she needed, and that it was her fault for not, and her fiance's fault for not being able to find a job so that they can afford more.

It's not my friend's fault that her insurance changed.  It's not her fiance's fault that he can't find a job.  There is one thing behind both problems: the "Affordable" Care Act. 

And it's not just them, either.  Angel's also facing similar fallout in wanting to continue caring for her daughter.  

The authors of that particular ass-rape of a bill can fuck the fucking fuckety fuck off.  May they contract physical halitosis to match that of their spirits.  And may they be forced into a position where they face the consequences of their own horrible law, from really bad medical care to having their hours cut or their jobs eliminated. 

Call me a horrible person...

Odysseus, the pixie*, and I just did some of our bi-weekly shopping.  We went to Wal-Mart first, and got a few things.  On the way out, we walked past a begging box.  You know, the types that beg people to buy food items to drop in for school kids.

It got me to thinking.  Odysseus and I make far less than twenty grand per year, and have no problems feeding our two.  Why, for fuck's sake, should we need to worry about feeding other people's kids, most of whom make more than we do when their welfare, food stamps, and WIC benefits are added up? 

"For the children."  For his children, my father in law gave up smoking--they needed diapers.  You rarely see that anymore.  Mom needs her cable, and Dad needs his multi-hundred dollar gaming system plus gaming subscription.  Both may or may not smoke and/or drink.  Why the fuck are we paying for these people's children, when they're clearly not willing to?

For the sake of the children, the "free money" tap must be turned off.   If their parents cannot bring themselves to cut their expenses and vices, then maybe the kids need to go to other parents, rather than putting every tax paying citizen (and then some) on the hook for the expenses of caring for children other than the ones they're directly responsible for.  Because all this spending "for the children" is putting them, their children, and their children's children into such a pit of debt that they will never be able to climb out.

*The imp is spending tonight and tomorrow night with Grandma and Grandpa.

Eurgh.

The thing I dislike most about summer inside city limits, on city water is this:

The water out of the tap is almost warm enough to bathe in. 

So, when I'm thirsty and run for a quick drink....warm water.

Adjusting...

So, Monday of last week, classes started on campus.  I taught my two, then headed downstairs for my office hours.  Two of them.  Ending at 1:00 p.m.

I'd had two cups of coffee, some caffeinated medication, no breakfast (I'm almost always queasy until about ten or so), and lunch was two hours late.  I was so shaky that I could barely function for the rest of the day.  Same thing with Wednesday, but Friday I had some granola bars that I shoved into my laptop bag/purse. 

One thing I've not been able to accomplish is my daily housework on the days I teach.  I'm on my feet constantly--pacing while I lecture, writing stuff up on the board, wandering around and helping students during group work--for two hours straight, and then starving by the time I get the pixie down for her nap (Odysseus is wonderful: he puts the imp down despite demands for "Mama do it!").  Not to mention coming down off the teaching high.

Which has led me to realize that I'm going to have to adapt a lot more than I thought I would.  Basically, I've started doing my routine stuff either the day before or the day after I usually do it.  Like laundry.  That I tend to do on Saturdays and Wednesdays.

I did laundry today.  Cleaned the kitchen (which was today's work), and vacuumed the imp's room (one of yesterday's chores). 

It's really eaten up my time--especially blog writing and reading time.  And energy.  Especially since I have to go talk to the twits working the desks at the library (where I teach and hold office hours) to figure out how to get my computer online, since they reconfigured the wireless access since the first day.

At least I'm getting fiction written.

Color me impressed.

As I said Sunday, the pixie has admitted that she wants the pull-ups because she can just treat them like a diaper.  I switched her to underwear only, and she learned Sunday evening to catch herself.  Yesterday, she had one serious wet accident with a couple of start-to-pee-but-catch-it wet undies, and today she had one wet.  One.  Only one. 

I'm very, very impressed with her.  Kinda sad that she had the one accident, because it means we can't get her a new princess dolly tomorrow, but proud of how fast training's coming along, now that we've taken away her option to choose not to use the potty.

However, she hasn't pooped in a couple of days, now.  I'm beginning to wonder if she just doesn't need to, or if she's scared to try.

Interesting inversions...

Sex is as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other. --Marquis de Sade

Strange, isn't it?  Two hundred and fifty years ago, the appetite that was restrained and veiled in false modesty was sex; today, our society flaunts sexuality, and treats the hunger for food, good food, as something to be ashamed of, something to hide. 

Today, on campus, I saw a girl with a six inch long skirt.  No, not six inches below her butt--six inches from the waistband (which exposed nearly down to her pubic mound) to the hem.  She wore a teeny-tiny halter top over it, exposing from the bottom of her rib cage to way below her belly button, and four or five inch stiletto heels.  Slim, yes, and pretty.  Told her friends that she would only have a water because she'd eaten breakfast. 

BREAKFAST!!  It was almost ONE O'CLOCK when she walked through the coffee shop.  Displaying her sexuality as if she were a walking advertisement for how she was paying for college!

I've been approached by random women just dying to tell me about this diet that I should try.  Told that I should avoid desserts by family members (I rarely eat them, anyway--prefer fresh fruit, to be honest).  Told that I shouldn't drink soda (I don't) or calorie-laden coffee drinks (I drink it black) by well-meaning puritanical acquaintances. 

Yet you see soft porn being enacted in public, by both gay and straight couples. 

I agree that we should be allowed to satisfy one appetite with the same lack of restraint or false modesty as the other, but I'd rather not see the other, either, to be honest.

Sad dog.

She just had a bath. 

Here's a ladder for you to use to get over it.

Christ.  You'd think that this person has never had to deal with a bully herself. 

Oh, wait...she probably took the advice to curl up on the ground and scream until a teacher comes to deal with it for you seriously.

Let me give you some advice, honey.  If you don't want mean spirited people making fun of you, either don't post your pictures online, learn to not care (and actually make fun of them in return--really stops that kind of bullying butt-cold), or...change your eating/exercise lifestyle, grow your hair out, get someone to teach you how to put on makeup and dress for your figure type, and put some effort into your appearance. 

Actually, forget I said any of it.  Go ahead.  The world needs fat, ugly, stupid, malicious, angry, bitter, infantilized feminists who refuse to take responsibility for their own choices and accept the consequences thereto to demonstrate what a butt-fuck the whole ideology actually is. 

Potty training woes.

My pixie is smart.  Very smart.  Smart enough to realize that a pull-up is just a fancy diaper.  We have had the damnedest time getting her to actually tell us she needs to go.  Odysseus and I have argued back and forth about whether or not she realizes it--with me saying she does, but doesn't see the point.

So, we got her about two dozen pair of panties, with me planning on doing more laundry for a while.

Guess what?  She's had a few accidents, but has done a lot better.

Last night, she admitted she didn't really need the diapers.  She told me, while she was wearing panties, "I wanna diadur."  Because she didn't want to have to interrupt playing to go to use the potty.

That, right there, tells me that she is definitely ready to transition to underwear only during waking times when she's at home (though she gets a pull-up over the panties when we go out in public, to the park or the store). 

And maybe...maybe she'll be daytime trained by her third birthday. 

random ramblings

I love my kids, but damn if I don't wish the little twerps would sleep just a little longer in the mornings.  The imp tried getting up at a quarter 'til seven...and the pixie was up at seven sharp.

So, this past week, they've had to deal with Mommy not being there for three mornings.  On the other hand, they had Daddy taking them to the park, so while they were very unhappy with me not being there, they also had a wonderful time. 

The cats have been codependent, lately.  When I go into the master bedroom or one of the bathrooms, there's shortly one of the cats either yowling outside the door (Cricket), or scratching on the door--not enough to leave marks, just enough to make noise to let me know she's there (Shadow).

The dog has taken to refusing to come over to the gate--will run to the opposite side of her pen, if called--if we try to bring her in before Odysseus gets home from work, between ten thirty and eleven thirty. 

The first week back on campus was...good.  I think I've made connections with most, if not all, of my students, and they're shocked that writing is easier than they thought it was. 

I also had a Muslim boy in one of my classes drop after the first day.  I don't know if it was because I made them write on the first day, or if it was because I'm a woman.  I've seen a lot of Muslim girls in full coverage of skin plus headscarf (though not the burkah) on campus, too.  And most of them are from Saudi Arabia. 

I don't understand why they're in college.  It's not like they can do anything with any degree they earn, and they're taking space that a student who can use that degree but who didn't get in could use. 

Writing seems to be coming a little easier, if a lot slower.  So we'll see how that goes.

FFOT: another list

Wearing heeled boots after five years of nothing but combat boots or tennis shoes is killing my feet and legs.  Especially after being on my feet in the classroom for nearly two hours straight for two days this week.  And that pain can fuck right the fucking fuck off. 

The "Affordable" Care Act can also fuck the fucking fuckety fuck off--just on the sheer principle of the things.

Angel's soon-to-be-ex-husband can fuck off with a cricket bat tipped with a cheese grater.  Reasons why are in the comments. 

Terrorists, physical or cyber, can fuck off.  May their 72 virgins all be clones of Helen Thomas, or demons with cocks the size of a Buick studded with backwards-facing spines.  Or maybe alternates, so that they never get used to the utter horror.

Assholes that kidnap and kill little girls.  Hopefully, the bastard gets the death penalty.  There should be laws passed that if someone kills a kid, they die within however long that child's life was.  By the same methods. 

Huh. What do you know...

I've got two different stories started.  We'll see what I can get done tonight after the kids go to bed, and tomorrow during office hours.

Wow.

Looking around the little coffee shop where I hold my office hours, the students seem to be nearly evenly divided between "Forcripessake, eat a freakin' cheeseburger, already!" and "EARTHQUAKE--wait, no, just someone who needs to STOP eating for a few weeks."  There don't seem to be very many in the healthy range, and those few that are tend to be guys, not girls.

Second day of classes

I got some compliments on the textbooks (and a half a dozen students between the two classes that didn't read the assigned chapters--which I will not go over with them), and a lot of deer-caught-in-the-headlights looks when I told them that if they didn't feel like participating (i.e., throwing out topic ideas) that I had no problems just sitting and staring at them for half of the class period. 

It worked to get the Comp II classes thinking and talking to each other...but not the Comp I classes. 

Topics for their first papers will be due on Friday, when we start building their thesis statements.

Um...no thanks.

Just deleted a spam comment offering to tell me how to get bigger breasts. 

Assessments

About half of my students were dressed decently nicely--clean, mostly whole, clothes. 

A few came in dirty-looking, with clothes ripped or stained, or otherwise unkempt.  Several had visible tattoos.  A few had multiple piercings in their faces.

A few of the girls (maybe three out of ten girls per class) came in with very little actually covered, to the point where I wanted to remind them that, while that is a valid career choice, it might not be a good idea to advertise on campus.

The rest?  Just looked like standard high school students: tee shirts, jeans or shorts, and tennies or flip-flops. 

Majors leaned heavily toward the practical--dental hygiene, STEM, business, etc., with a few undecided, and a few teacher ed (most of whom are a couple tacos shy of a combo plate)--and most had a plan for what they wanted to do with it. 

I feel hopeful.

Back to the grindstone.

We'll be leaving for campus and the park (Odysseus and the kids) in a few more minutes. 

Rudeness

To the neighbor's idiot daughter:

It is the height of rudeness to pound on the doors and windows of a house you've moved out of before sane people awaken on any morning, especially when you should know the habits of the inhabitants.  To transgress the boundaries of politeness at six fucking thirty on a fucking Sunday morning leaves you deserving of genital lice at best. 

Get down on your knees (a familiar position, I'm sure) and thank God you didn't wake my kids when you woke my husband and me.  Then go fuck yourself.  Hard.  With a broken glass bottle.

Random rambling

It's been a busy day.  We had some shopping to do, and took the kids to the park since we have swarms of mosquitoes in the back yard half as big as the car--the swarms, not the bugs.  Odysseus is planning to take the kids to the park fairly often, this upcoming fall semester.  It'll give them a chance to run around like crazy, so that they might act out less when he's the one watching them while I'm teaching.

After that, it was nap time, then time to clean up the house a bit for company. 

Tomorrow, it's off to my mom's for her birthday.

I've figured out a game with the imp that he really likes.  He's got a rug that's divided into squares with letters of the alphabet (and an image of something that begins with the letter) on it.  I've been telling him sounds--"rrrr, like rrrabit"--and having him jump on the letter and tell me which one it is. 

It's working better than the flash cards.  The next step will be to tell him the letter and have him make the sound as he jumps on it.

The pixie likes playing, too, but she's a lot more random about which square she jumps on.

Speaking of the pixie, she got her hair washed tonight.  Sometimes, I forget how very long it is.  The curls keep it just below the tops of her shoulders.  When it's wet, it reaches about mid back. 

She doesn't look like a baby, anymore.  She looks like a little girl. 

It's gonna be a little strange, leaving the house and the kids to go to work Monday morning.  I have been a work-from-home mom for almost five years, now.  I'd arranged, back in fall of '08, to teach my sections of Comp II as enhanced classes--with materials online, but still face time in the classroom--because the imp was due just before the last week of classes.  We wound up transitioning early because he came right about midterms for the non-comp classes. 

Who knows.  Maybe it'll be a little easier, having six hours on campus to grade stuff, and be able to keep work and home life a little more separate, and teaching and writing just as separate.

FFOT: late, I know...

Forgetting what day of the week it is can FTFO.

Rabid mold growth causing multi-week sinus problems in both adults in a four person household can fuck the fuck off.  Hot tea is no longer working.  Pseudo-Sudafed barely takes the edge off, and I can't take the real stuff.  Chili for lunch helped, but I'm not sure if I can take chili for supper, too.

The university "upgrading" student email accounts just before semester starts can fuck the fuck off.  Odysseus is having issues getting into his account to double-check for important announcements before classes start.

Kids acting out because they're bored and stir-crazy when you feel too shitty to take them outside can FTFO.

Politicians and naked money grabs can FTFO.  Thanks again, Governor Nixon, for being such a fucking douchenozzle, and signing that crap sandwich into law.

I think that's all, but someone's packed my sinuses with heavy clay, and I can't think straight.

Overheard in the living room:

Odysseus likes dumb martial arts movie parodies, in particular, a fan-made series on YouTube (I've deliberately ignored what the name is). 

Me: A cunt-punt?  Really?
Him:  Seems to be a running gag on this.  Sort of a don't get too arrogant kind of thing.

***

Him: You wouldn't enjoy it.
Me: Not without at least half a bottle of whiskey.  ... There's only so much stupid I can tolerate sober.  It's why I drink while grading papers.
Him: *snicker*

Tomorrow's high...

...was this time last year's low. 

I'm gonna soak a cup and a half of black beans tonight to build a pot of chili for lunch tomorrow. 

And I'm gonna get some baking potatoes the next time we go shopping.  Nothing beats chili topped baked potatoes.

So much for global warming.  I'm going to start stocking up on soup/stew fixings for the fall and winter. 

I really hate the fucking school year.

Why?  Simple!  The fucking busses roar past our house at six fucking thirty in the morning, just past the imp's bedroom window!

No, he's not going to public school.  Period.  Even if that means we have to cut cable, never eat out again, and just do less in general, so that we can afford the local Catholic private school.

And even then, as an October baby, he's not going until next year.

Well, now...

I guess I'm going to have to vote against every sitting state congresscritter in the next elections.  Because even if they didn't directly vote for it, they didn't stop it, either.

What did the Missouri state legislature do, you may ask?

Well, I just got an email from Amazon:

Greetings from the Amazon Associates Program.

We are writing from the Amazon Associates Program to notify you that your Associates account will be closed and your Amazon Services LLC Associates Program Operating Agreement will be terminated effective August 27, 2013. This is a direct result of the unconstitutional Missouri state tax collection legislation passed by the state legislature and signed by Governor Nixon on July 5, 2013, with an effective date of August 28, 2013. As a result, we will no longer pay any advertising fees for customers referred to an Amazon Site after August 27 nor will we accept new applications for the Associates Program from Missouri residents.

Please be assured that all qualifying advertising fees earned prior to August 28, 2013 will be processed and paid in full in accordance with your regular advertising fee schedule. Based on your account closure date of August 27, 2013, any final payments will be paid by October 31, 2013.

While we oppose this unconstitutional state legislation, we strongly support the federal Marketplace Fairness Act now pending before Congress. Congressional legislation is the only way to create a simplified, constitutional framework to resolve interstate sales tax issues and it would allow us to re-open our Associates program to Missouri residents.

We thank you for being part of the Amazon Associates Program, and look forward to re-opening our program when Congress passes the Marketplace Fairness Act.

That means I will have to re-do all of the links to my books, on this site, and on The Godshead Tavern blog.  That means that when one of y'all click through on one of my books, or a product I recommend after August 27, I won't get any money from your order. 

Granted, I've made a total of five dollars and eighteen cents that way over the course of a year, but...others actually make a good living that way, and Jay fucking Nixon, and his merry band of prostate-licking twunts have really fucked all of us over big time. 

Considering a new pen...

I have a Parker Vector in red that I've had for ten years.  It still works wonderfully...but the clip on the cap is sprung so badly that I can't repair it.

So, I'm thinking I'm gonna get another of the same type.  This one. 

If you like fountain pens, it's a nice one, if cheaply made and plastic (basically, what I can afford on my salary).  Mine has lasted me very, very well, and I wouldn't even think of replacing it if the imp hadn't yanked it off of where I had it clipped hard enough to permanently bend the clip out to a thirty degree angle.

Tab clearing

• Laugh out loud funny.  Satire is good when it's heavy handed, and awesome when it's not.  This is awesome.

• Can we have an open season created for leeches like these?  Because I'm kinda tired of working my ass off to help support his.

• ...and my Flash-Player crashed my Firefox, and it lost everything except what I'd just finished writing.  And every time I go to re-find the cool stuff I'd found, it crashes the browser again.  Isn't that just lovely.

"Affordable." Uh-huh. Right.

My family's insurance program might be grandfathered in, but we are facing another rate increase.  We increased our deductible, a few years ago, from $5000 (and a rate of almost $400/month) to $10,000 to lower our rates to $283/month. 

Well, thanks to the extra expenses of the "Affordable" Care Act, our rates are about to jump by $50/month. 

Mind you, we make about $1,500/month, when both of us are getting paychecks.  There are four months of the year, when I don't get a paycheck. 

I am confident that, sometime within the next couple of years, with the requirements that the insurance companies use 80% of the money coming in on medical expenses for their customers, insurance companies are going to start going under.  Which means that our grandfathered plan is probably going to go up, and up, and up...and then fold from unmet business expenses. 

"Affordable" Care.  Uh-huh.  Right.  And I'm a best-selling author.

Experiments in tasty

I took a boneless, skinless chicken thigh (breast could work, too, I think), and put it in a sprayed skillet, seasoned with rosemary, garlic, and herb seasoning.  While it cooked, I looked through the fridge to see what would taste good with it, and ended up with onion, green bell pepper, and sliced mushrooms.  I sliced up the pepper and onion, and grabbed a handful of mushrooms, then threw it all in the skillet.  Chopped up the chicken (almost done, by that point), and put the lid back on while I looked in the pantry.  Cream of Mushroom soup...sounds good.  That went into the skillet, too, along with half a can of water.

The only pasta in the house is Japanese, lasagna noodles, or macaroni, so the finished product went over macaroni.

Damn, but that was good.  It would be easy to scale up--this made enough for two.

1 boneless, skinless chicken thigh
Rosemary, garlic, and herb seasoning to taste
1/4-1/2 large green bell pepper, sliced or diced
1/4-1/2 medium onion, sliced or diced
1/4-1/2 c mushroom slices
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1/2 can water

Season and cook the chicken until nearly done.  Add veggies.  Cook until chicken is done.  Add soup, water, warm up to a simmer.  Serve hot over pasta of your choice.  Or rice.  Or potatoes.

Now, all I have to do is figure out what to call this.

Edit: Rosemary chicken cream sauce for pasta

Comp I course built...

I've posted my Course Policy Statement, Course Schedule, and textbook.  I've created the questions threads in the discussion board.

And it only took about thirty minutes to do so. 

There are things to be said for messing with the platform when students are locked out.

I'll wait to do Comp II for a few more days.

Sorry

I have felt like utter crap, today.  My brain isn't even working right.

Wow. Early.

I heard geese, this morning, when I walked the pup this morning.  Usually, I don't start hearing geese until mid to late September. 

I wonder if that's a sign that it's going to be an early winter.

...and on a lighter note...

My dog is trying to figure out how to get a dog treat stick...cookie...thing out of her new Kong toy.  I've heard her throw it at the refrigerator twice.  I can't tell you how many times I heard her beat it on the floor. 

I just glanced in, and she's got about an inch of the treat worked out of the toy, and is holding it down between her paws, and trying to pull the rest of the treat (which fits very firmly in the toy) out of the middle with her teeth.

Damn.

My step-mother (MGD's new widow) is a raging cunt.  She's taking her own loss out on the step-kids that she envied and disliked, and is picking on the one present who is already the most broken: my sister, who spent ten years addicted to meth. 

There is no excuse for that--not even that she hates that each one of us is smarter than she is, and has always been a raving, slavering, green-eyed envy monster.

So...

My oldest sister called this morning, crying.  Turns out my male genetic donor had had a brain anneurism burst yesterday, and they were taking him off life support this morning.

Mind you, that son of a bitch physically, mentally, emotionally, and sexually abused us.  My oldest sister understands that my younger sister and I see it for what it is, but she doesn't.  She acknowledges what happened, and that we're angry about it and haven't forgiven him, but she doesn't see a problem with it. 

Kinda hard to forgive someone who threatened you with your mother's death, if you told what he was doing.  Someone who never acknowledged what they did, nor that what they did was wrong.

Honestly, I quit caring what happens to him a long time ago.  I may not have forgiven him, but I'm not angry and filled with hate for him, anymore.  I haven't been for years.  But I never quit fearing him.

So.  Hearing that he was a bit of medical equipment away from death (and, arguably, was already dead) was a little bit of a shock, this morning.

My oldest sister was falling apart.  My younger sister isn't sure how she feels, yet. 

And me?  All I feel is relief.  And finally safe. 

Almost...

I found a mistake in my course schedule for my Comp II class yesterday, and had to redo the last half of the class's due dates.  And then revised the textbook to add an appendix of commonly used templates (the workshop/peer editing questions, the organization worksheet, and how to cite your sources).  I got the Course Policy Statement, the course schedule, and textbook printed for Comp I, then started to print all of that for Comp II...and the toner ran out. 

Odysseus is going to change the toner today.  And then, I'm gonna print the rest of my class stuff.  I'll try to get it posted to the online platform tonight after the kids go to bed.

Then, I have the rest of the week to do whatever.

I just realized...

Five years ago today, I started this blog. 

Huh.  Time flies.

Random ramblings

The imp spent a couple of nights with his grandparents.  They were going to take him to a small, town fair near where they live, if they could get a window of dry weather.

I say that, because it has literally rained every day for two weeks.

Our weather has been crazy: highs in the eighties with humidity in the 90% range.  It's gotten to the point where the A/C is keeping up fine with the temps, but having a little trouble with the humidity.  The upholstered furniture feels damp to the touch.  It's made the kids cranky from discomfort, and stir crazy because I can't really let them play outside.  I'm about to the point of taking the kids to the Chick-Fil-A in town for the huge play place our franchise has. 

The pixie is still only starting to potty train.  I'm thinking the pull-ups aren't working so well for her--she doesn't bother trying to get to the bathroom.  She's currently got six pairs of toddler panties, and I'm going to be getting more, because she went through three pairs (wet) before I gave up.

I'm honestly beginning to wonder if she's physically ready for training. 

We've been chucking the dog in her pen to work off some of her energy any day we've got enough time when it's not actively raining.  It's a muddy mess, with cut grass added to the morass.  Odysseus mowed the yard last week (had to stop with each round and unclog the mower--wet grass doesn't mow well, but there's been no day dry enough for it to dry out), and threw a lot of the cut grass into the dog's pen.

He'd hoped that it wouldn't rain for at least a couple of days, so that the grass could dry out, but that didn't happen.

Cricket's been falling off the cat tree head first, lately.  She gets up, rolls and flops around, and forgets that she's not as small as she used to be, and falls.  I've moved the cat tree to where she falls onto the couch, not the floor.  She doesn't have the brain cells to spare.

Shadow has slimmed down from when we switched her to adult cat food.  I don't know if it was too early (even though she was a month past her first birthday), or if it just wasn't the right nutrition balance for her, but we switched the cats back to kitten food.  Shadow quit eating so much, and started playing more.  And started having trouble with hairballs.  Thank goodness she likes the hairball treats.

Well, I've got the course policy statements written for both classes, the course schedules (though I need to tweak the one for the Comp II course a bit), and the textbooks (again, need to go through and revise the one for Comp II).  Next step is to fight with class enhancement platform (same as the distance learning platform) and get them loaded.  I'm expecting that to take an hour or two.  The site goes live on Friday or Saturday of next week.  And we start classes on the 19th.

I'll have about two weeks before the first papers start coming in.  I'll see if I can get at least a couple more stories done.

Two more copies of The Last Pendragon sold.  Last month netted me about twelve or fourteen dollars in book sales; the month before was a little bit more, but not much.  May was awesome, but that was when Pendragon came out.  

I'm thinking of creating flyers with links to my author page to scatter around campus (after I get them stamped by the proper nitwits on campus to keep them from being thrown away whenever they're found).  Maybe it'll work to help...

Laundry...oy.

It's done.  All that's left to do is putting it all away.

Next?  Kitchen needs cleaned--clean dishes put away, and dirty ones loaded; boxes sorted and emptied; floor swept and mopped...

After that kinda depends on my imp, and whether he's going to be cooperative with me emptying out his closet.

FFOT: more misc.

Parents who refuse to rearrange their lives around their kids can fuck off.  If they didn't want to be inconvenienced, why, for fuck's sake, did they have children to begin with?

People who continually make really bad choices, and expect to never have to face the consequences of their actions can fuck off so hard that their ancestors start kicking their ass when they die because of the violation they felt. 

Two of my aunts in particular can fuck off.  One of them married a succession of idiots (one mortgaged her paid-off place to buy a bar...then proceeded to drink the profits, and refuses to abide by the divorce settlement to pay it off; the other took out credit cards in her name, and maxed them out...then started beating on her, and refuses to abide by the divorce settlement to pay them off), and whines about never having enough money to live on because she spends it on debt payments and stupid crap that she doesn't know how to use.  The other?  Yeah, the other is enabling this behavior.  She's not paying her own debts and loans, so that she can give money to the first aunt. 

Both of those aunts are raising my mother's stress levels and blood pressure...so they can fuck off. 

Problems and stress relievers

My beloved Odysseus discovered that the scope on my Mauser had shifted in the scope rings.  I'd initially set it at a bit of an angle--I have breast tissue that gets in the way of shouldering it absolutely straight--but he'd noticed that it was even more "wonky" than I'd deliberately set it.

So...I have to go to the range, today.  I'm busting my ass to get the last of my 101 schedule put together so that I can go shoot, guilt free. 

All in all, forty rounds of .308, put through a bolt action rifle with a five round internal magazine should be a nice couple of hours of relaxation. 

Back to the grind.  I gotta get this done.

I've learned something today.

I learned that having sinus problems will cause your teeth to ache like you have cavities. 

Good to know.  Now I need to take something for the problem.

And it really sucks that I don't tolerate Sudafed well. 

It ain't a coal mine, but...

I'm sure I'll be shoveling around sixteen tons of BS per week this coming semester, between students and colleagues. 

I'll also be finding absolute gems from within the student body, so I guess it evens out.

(Don't mind me--I discovered last night that I have to completely rewrite my Course Policy Statements because I can't find my old ones from my classroom classes.)

What has Murphy been up to?

It looks to me like he's playing hooky.  Or maybe it's just that the NSA has learned how to record daydreams straight from the brain.

Half-assed berry cobbler

3 lbs frozen mixed berries*
1 c sugar
3 Tbsps flour

Crust
2 c flour
2 Tbsp sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
3/4 c milk
1/4 c vegetable oil

1. Combine berries, sugar, and flour in a 2 qt pot on top of the stove, heat until bubbly.  2. While berries are thawing and cooking, mix the dry ingredients, then add milk and oil.  3. Stir, turn out onto a flour covered surface, and knead about ten times (dough will be sticky).  4. Roll out flat enough to cover pot of berries, and cut slits into topper.  5. Butter it, then transfer it to the top of the pot (if it falls into the berry mixture, don't worry--it'll rise back out), then sprinkle sugar over the top.   6. Bake at 450 degrees for 20 minutes or so, until the topping is golden.

*I found 2/3 of a 3 lb bag of berries in the freezer when I was cleaning it.  It'd been there for a while, but the berries were still good enough for cobbler, even if not to eat as is.

Been working

I have two weeks left until classes start--two weeks from today is the first day.

If you count from when the internet platform becomes available, I have slightly less time (it comes up for student use on Saturday, 8/17).

And I am not ready. 

I would have been, had I only been teaching Comp I--one class to prep for is much easier than two.  I've already got that class's textbook ready to load.  I still need to find the Course Policy Statement and revise it, and put together a course schedule that includes due dates. 

Comp II complicates everything a bit.  I need to revise that class's book, now that I have it rewritten, and find the CPS, and create the schedule. 

Then, I need to load everything into the course enhancement sites, and write a welcome message.  And instructions that they need to keep track of due dates and things, because they'll need to print their own crap and bring it to class with them.  

And the kids are restless, unhappy, and LOUD--they've been either screaming in sheer joy of playing with each other, or screaming at each other for several days, now.  I normally love the joyful screaming, but...it gets hard to concentrate on what I need to be doing. 

Hopefully, I can get the class stuff done and loaded today, so that I can forget about it until Monday, 8/19.  And get back to my everyday writing and blogging without having that sword of Damocles hanging over me.

Just finished...

My Comp II textbook is done...for now.  TinCan Assassin and DaddyBear--if you guys are still willing to beta-read it, drop me a line in the comments.

Guess I'll play, too...

...because I'd much rather pass along a blog award than to mess with my class stuff with a mild migraine.

So, DaddyHawk over at Preachers and Horse Thieves nominated me for the Liebster Blog



As with all blog awards, there are rules:

HOW TO ACCEPT THE AWARD: The Liebster Blog Award is a way to recognize blogs who have less than 200 followers.  Liebster is a German word that means beloved and valued.  Here are the rules for accepting the award:

1.      Thank the person who nominated you and include a link back to their blog.

2.      List 11 random facts about yourself.

3.      Answer the 11 questions given to you.

4.      Create 11 questions for the bloggers you nominate.

5.      Choose 11 bloggers with 200 or fewer followers to nominate and include links to their blogs.

6.      Go to each blogger's page and let them know you have nominated them. 

Okay, let’s run these down now.

1. Thank you, DaddyHawk.

2. 11 Random Facts About Me 

    ·         I knit.

    ·        I have a driver's liscense, but don't drive.

    ·         I detest politics with a bloody purple passion.

    ·         I cannot stand most other women in general, and feminists in specific.

    ·         I lost my sweet tooth when sweets became one of the worst triggers for morning sickness.  No, I don't want it back.

    ·         I started college as a teacher ed major, but didn't make it all the way through Intro to Teacher Ed before I knew I wanted nothing to do with working in public schools.

    ·         I minored in Spanish, and can still understand spoken Spanish, and still dream in it.

    ·         I went to Portland, OR, once.  And once was one time too many.

    ·         My go-to comfort drink is coffee.  It can short out a panic attack if I can get some before one gets started.

    ·         I hate most other parents of my acquaintance.  So very many have spoiled their children, and don't see anything wrong with it.  The rest?  Dump their kids off into public schools, and then wonder why they can't read or write or do math.

    ·         I hate my boobs.  They're too damn big, and get in the way of properly shouldering a rifle.

3. 11 Questions for the blogs I nominate:

·         Who is your favorite author and why?

Oh, lordy, does it have to be just one??  *Sigh.*  I guess that would have to be Robert A. Heinlein.  Because his books gave me the best idea of how to be a mentally and emotionally healthy adult, and how to handle meaningful relationships.  

·         What is your favorite adult beverage?

Bourbon.  

·         Which Biblical verse (or other spiritual text quote) is the most meaningful to you and why? 

Jesus wept.  It, more than anything else, demonstrated that he shared in the human condition.

·         What’s the coolest, bestest, most exciting thing you’ve ever done?

I shot a smiley face in a target, once.

·         What is your favorite weapon and why?

I have two.  My .308 Mauser, and my CZ-82.  My Mauser because it calms my mind and soul to sit with forty to sixty rounds of .308 and concentrate on putting them on target.  My CZ, because...well...I shot a smiley face in a target with it.  

·         What is your favorite sport in which to participate (watching it on TV from the sofa does not count)?

Um...I don't think my favorite physical activity counts as a sport.

·         At what event (past, present, real or fictional) would you want to be present and why?

I desperately want to see a Quidditch match.  

·         What is the weirdest food combination that you like at which others raise an eyebrow?

I never paid attention.  What do I care what other people think of me, outside of my friends?  

·         What is your biggest hypocrisy or double standard? 

I expect more from married women than I do married men.   I am almost always disappointed.

·         What was your first car and would you own it again?

I still own my first car--well, our first car.  A 2003 Civic LX.  I love it, and we're not ever going to get rid of it.

·         Which unfulfilled dream of yours do you most want to achieve in your lifetime and why?

I want to make a living writing.  Because I'm sick to death of having to worry about offending the wrong minority by failing them for being fucking stupid, for refusing to do the work, or for plagiarizing a paper.

4.  I really like DaddyHawk's questions--I'd like anyone who I nominated that wants to play to answer those.

5. 11 Blogs I want to nominate: 

TinCan Assassin

Rob.

Angel.

MSgt B

DaddyBear

 JUGM

Ricki

Rick (of Cafe 45)

 MissK

Joel

Murphy's Law


6. Notify the recipients.

I'll tag the ones I know don't read my blog, but my head's hurting too bad, and I forgot to do it while I was linking them. 

(now edited--thanks for pointing out that I needed to, DaddyHawk--and those are some really cute pictures of the little one)

TinCan Assassin needs prayers...

...or happy "get well" thoughts if you don't pray. 

Since he's one of my Facebook friends (as well as his lovely wife), I learned today that he's been rushed to the hospital with further heart trouble. 

Random ramblings

We found Dragons: Riders of Berk--the entire first season--on DVD, last week.  The first four episodes are the same as on the DVD they released earlier, which got the kids hooked on the series, but there are two more episodes on that disk, and three more disks.

The kids have been enjoying the "new dragons" immensely.  It's what they're watching right now, since Saturday morning cartoons are nowhere near what they once were.  Seriously.  I'd welcome smurfs and My Little Pony, compared to the shit they've got on now.

The cats (besides beating up hairbrushes and stealing my scrunchies) are as always: fuzzy, lazy, and very affectionate.  Evenings are the best--Shadow, in particular, really enjoys curling up between the kids on the couch and soliciting affection.  Cricket brings her toys to the kids and begs them to play with her.

Does anyone know how to train a dog not to eat kids' toys?  I can't keep their toys out of the living room, and can't keep the dog from chewing them up when she finds them.  I hate keeping her in her crate as much as we do, but it really doesn't feel like we have any choice at all.

I also need suggestions on how to train her not to jump on the kids.  They love her to death, but are terrified of her because she's so enthusiastic to play with them, and too rough when she does.

I've been working on the Comp II textbook.  It's taking longer than I thought it would, because so much of the textbook I'd written before was geared toward an online class, and one that was writing a thousand words per week of blog posts--as such, I was hesitant to assign them too many papers, because I didn't want to overload them with composition work when I knew they had other classes.  I'm kinda unique on campus, like that. 

The other thing I've been working on for classes have been course schedules--when we're doing what, and when papers and things are due.  I had Comp II nearly done...and then realized that I need to pull up the semester calendar to fit what I want to do in around the days we have off: Labor Day, Fall Break (one of the Mondays and Tuesdays in October), and Thanksgiving Break.  So, I still have that to do after I finish the textbook (which should be just a couple more days at most).

With class prep, housework, and chasing kids around taking up the bulk of my time, I haven't managed any more writing.  Especially after yesterday--which was a very, very long day.

My mother-in-law's birthday was yesterday.  So, we wound up getting up with the kids to get around, get ready, and get gone early.  Very early.  We usually get out of the house by about 10:00 a.m., but yesterday, we were out of the house more than an hour sooner.  And this after a night where I didn't get to bed until a bit after midnight. 

It was a good visit, and the kids spent most of the time playing outside, except when it rained and they played in the garage. 

We left about two in the afternoon, because the dog had gotten put back in her kennel without having dropped a number two.  We hurried home to get her out on a walk, and give her a bit more food.  The kids went down for a good, long nap apiece, despite the pixie having slept all the way home. 

We went to a local restaurant for supper with friends, one of which has been living in New Hampshire for the last five years.  We wound up with seven adults, and five children between the ages of twelve years and eighteen months old.  And my friend from out of state was almost an hour late because of his mother being a twat and not letting him leave when he needed to. 

Yeah...the kids didn't get to bed until an hour and a half after their normal bedtime. 

So.  Yesterday was an impossibly long day.  And I got jack shit done yesterday.

ffot: miscellaneous

A late night followed by an early morning starting a long day can fuck off, as can I for not getting to bed earlier than I did.

A good friend who refuses to hear how autism spectrum disorder is different from his own physical disability, and that an inability to cope with change isn't the same as his own refusal to grow the fuck up can fuck the fucking fuckety fuck off.  My son, while not on the spectrum, has much in common with autistic or Aspie kids, and I have a very good friend with Asperger's, bordering on full autism.  My friend's refusal to listen to how changes in routine damages their ability to cope with anything nearly had me telling him to fuck off and don't bother visiting while he's in the area, even though he lives in New Hampshire, and I haven't seen him for two years. 

And my dog can fuck off for refusing to shit when we took her out twice before breakfast. 

My son, the smartass.

My imp asked me for something a little bit ago.  I told him, "Give me a minute," because I was working on something.  So, he pretends to hand me something, and says, "Here's your minute."

I guaranteed it was going to happen again, because I made the mistake of cracking up laughing.

All of my animals are strange.

The dog hates lawnmowers and vacuums, and will strain to attack them whenever they're in use. 

My cat, Cricket, hates hairbrushes like that. 

We found a good, detangling hairbrush for the pixie.  Her hair is very fine, silky, and curly--which means it tangles really easy.  The brush has short, soft bristles of several different lengths, which pick the tangles out without pulling.

The cat hates, hates, HATES that hairbrush (as she does all hairbrushes, but that's the only one that resides in the living room).  She goes fuzzy, arches, hisses, growls, hops sideways, and beats the shit out of it whenever she finds it. 

And she found it on the coffee table a couple of days ago.  Beat the shit out of it, and scared the pixie with all the growling and hissing.  Pixie came running to me in the kitchen, shaking and crying: "Cricket mad.  Cricket being mean to my brush."

So, I go pick up the brush, carry it into the bathroom, and set it down on the counter.  I turn to leave, just in time to see the cat jump up onto the counter to continue beating on the brush.  So, not only will the cat beat the shit out of the brush when it's in the living room, but will follow the brush into another room to continue the beat-down.

I ended up having to rescue the brush from being slapped into the toilet, take it, and hide it before the cat would calm the fuck down.

The pixie was still half-scared of the cat for most of the day yesterday, even though Cricket was back to her normal, goofy, affectionate self.