How awkward.

Part of my problems making and keeping friends are that so many aren't comfortable with the reality behind personal responsibility.  I've learned not to tell friends and family that I hold little sympathy for their plights that they manage to get into through their own dumb decisions (my mother and sister, for example, "stuck" in a town where my mom is certain she has a "reputation" built on lies told by my male genetic donor; or for people wailing about being broke while they faff about with their iThings, and smoke Marlboro Reds). 

The rest?  It's because I am too conservative on some things (i.e., fiscal and foreign policy) for a lot of people, and too liberal in the classical sense on others (social policy). 

I think Congress should be limited to their responsibilities enumerated within the Constitution.  Davy Crockett said something about the forcible distribution of wealth from those who earned it to those who did not.  Yes, there is now written into the contracts of all soldiers that they're entitled to medical services and some education costs reimbursed.  I do not, however, recall that we as a nation have a contract like that to provide for the leeches that could get a job, but prefer not to. 

Does that mean I think welfare is wrong?  Yes.  Is it necessary?  Only very occasionally, and much of the time, if the government wasn't forcibly robbing all of us at gunpoint, we would all be willing to help pitch in with helping those who truly need it. 

I don't have a problem with tax breaks for parents, or for tax breaks for certain things.  Despite benefiting from the Earned Income Tax Credit, I'd also like to see that go away; it is, despite its name, simply more welfare with the way it's set up: we get back around ten times what we pay in, total, including Social Security.*  It is not a tax break--it's taking money from some that work harder and/or luck out in their connections, and giving it to those who don't make as much. 

One of the biggest reasons I am so harshly against welfare programs of all types is this: it is nowhere found as a Constitutional right and/or responsibility enjoyed by congress and is a blatant vote-buying scheme.  Another reason I have issues with it is because of what it's done: it has created a permanent, generational underclass of single mothers begetting babydaddies and babymamas.  And it's not just any one race--it bridges races more than anything beneficial does. 

My lefty friends disagree with me on this, to some extent.  Now that many of them are paying taxes, they agree that there's a lot of fraud, and that the fraud needs cleared out.  They also believe that it's the responsibility of everybody to pay taxes to take care of those who need it.

I, on the other hand, believe it should be up to the individual to help...or not.  And most will.  Especially if the government ceases doing jobs that they're not supposed to.

I also believe that we are not the world's police force.  An army is not supposed to be forcibly restrained from the soldiers defending themselves with ridiculously restricted ROE.  An army is not supposed to engage in nation building.  An army is supposed to kill people and break things in defense of their nation.  We haven't done that since WWII, in the Pacific front, except for in Afghanistan and in Iraq.  This is something that most of my lefty friends strongly disagree with me on: they believe we shouldn't be over there, or that we should be the world's social workers.

Welfare isn't just limited to individuals.  I assume most, if not all, of my readers are fully aware of just how much money our government hands out to other nations (who are frequently our enemies).  That also needs to stop.

I do believe that the government has set all the social policy it needs to with the decree that no one can discriminate against anyone else on the basis of religion, creed, race, or sex.  The government has no business saying who can marry whom (and who they cannot marry), nor does it have any business forcing business owners to act against their faith while protecting people who simply do not want to do the job for which they're hired from being forced to act against theirs (like selling pork or alcohol in a store which sells both).  A government that enforces morality is tyrannical, no matter whose morality (right or left) it enforces, and it seems that both sides want to get into power just for that purpose.

Another issue that gets me into trouble, ironically enough, with everybody, is abortion.  I am not conservative enough for my conservative friends, and I am not leftist enough for my leftist friends.  I do not believe that it should be an option that a pregnant woman can choose if she doesn't want children--there is, after all, always the option of walking out of the hospital without a baby.  And it was most often a choice that put her there to start with: having sex without using a barrier method, or a hormonal contraceptive. 

I have had two children.  I know for a fact that by the time most women know they're pregnant, the baby is already more than just a clump of cells.  My two were moving at their first doctor's appointment when I was eight weeks pregnant--actively moving away from Doppler and sonogram.

I also do not believe that abortions should be illegal for a doctor to perform if it is the life of the mother on the line, or if a baby is developing in such a way that their condition is incompatible with life, and incredibly painful.  I do believe that it should be a woman's choice to refuse such, but I do not believe it is hers to choose to murder her baby.

So.  Too far right for my left friends, and too far left for my right friends.  How many others are in the same situation?

Beginning of the end...

So, today, I picked up the last paper from the students handing in a physical copy (few enough that I'll get them graded tonight).  The electronic copies are due in my email or through the course site by midnight tonight.

And today's assignment is setting up a blog and posting the address on the discussion board.  Tomorrow, their first post is due.  They've got four posts, total, and I'm assuming this week is going to be a shakedown week for getting it going, and will be lenient on grading the blog posts. 

We have five class days left for the semester, since today's are over.  And final exam time (which is going to be thus: they email any revised papers to me, since it doesn't make sense to hold a final exam for a skills-based class). 

Teaching, actually standing up and teaching the class, is now done.  For the rest of the semester, I'm doing nothing but grading, and perhaps answering questions for students who need a bit of help.  I hate setting it up like this, but I know how my university's professors work: they all, each and every one of them, wait until the last two weeks to either assign big projects due the last day of class, or have more than one major project (that they assigned within the last week or two) due during the last two weeks of class...or else they're cramming three more tests that they'd planned into the last two weeks.  My students do not need to be stressing about my writing course when everything else is being dumped in their laps at once. 

So, for the last two weeks, they're blogging.  And actually physically being in class is optional, since they've got more stressful classes all dumping on them at once, and there are only so many hours in a day for homework. 

When I'm not grading, I plan to be writing.  I got on a roll during the last half hour of office hours today, and managed to transcribe a bit of Detritus, bringing the wc total on that one up to 21,500--which is fast typing, for me.

And then...then, after May 1, I'm done with campus.  I'll be picking the girl-child up from preschool on the next Monday, while Odysseus is taking his final in one of his classes, but that's about it.  The kids will have school until May 22, so Odysseus and I will have four hours, three days a week, for two weeks with no kids underfoot.

It's the beginning of the end of the school year.  And while I'm done with the part of class I enjoy, it won't be long until I'm done with the part I hate, until the last of August or the first of September, whenever the first paper of the next semester is due.

Pen post lot #2, pen #4

Another one of the oddities (and the last post for a while, in all likelihood, since I have to repair all the rest) is this one:a Universal Pen Company pen, made in NYC, likely in the early sixties.

 Again, yes, that's my handwriting.  Want to see the glass cartridge?

 

When I filled it yesterday, the syringe I used said it holds 2.5 mL.  I think the Parker cartridges (the biggest I'm familiar with) hold 1 mL. 

Neat pen, huh?  Not particularly rare, and not really valuable (third tier cheapie), but it's interesting, and has the potential to be very, very useful.  So I'm keeping this one, too.  

random ramblings

I feel horribly guilty.  I sent my in-laws to hell, yesterday, to be tortured by a Christian school's Christian rock praise band concert.  In my defense, I meant to do it not at all.  I thought the grandparents' day thing would be more focused on the school stuff and less on the Church stuff that the school is attached to.

Then, we went out to lunch.  The pixie went home with them, and the imp came home with us and went to his very first birthday party.  He had an absolute blast--the kid's mother rented our local bounce house for a couple hours.  Odysseus described it as joyful chaos...and reported that the little girls in the imp's class like him very much, and constantly wanted him to chase them.

The mistake he made was that he said this in the imp's hearing, and now the imp swears that he loves chaos.

He's spent today fairly quietly--let us sleep in until we got a delivery left on the doorstep that I wasn't expecting until sometime next week.  Since the pixie isn't here, he's actually spent the day watching Iron Man* and Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes.

The pixie is home, now, so the quiet that I've been enjoying has come to an end: I've promised the imp that he can use this little lightweight fabric frisbee to teach the pixie how to throw it properly...up and down the hall, probably with a lot of shrieking and laughter. Possibly with some fighting.  Since I've put them both down for naps because of the severe crankies, that won't happen until later.

The imp got himself into trouble, this morning.  Both he and the pixie love my fountain pens, and the imp in particular loves the one with the orange lines marbled through the black, both because orange is his favorite color, and because the pen is loaded with green ink, which he loves.

I've got the pens cleaned up and refurbished that I can until I get the time to sit down, scrape rubber fragments off of feed sections, measure the diameter, and order feed sacs.  And j-bars for one or two.

Shadow has been exiled to the laundry room for the duration of the naps.  She was being an asshole, and clawing at the imp's closed door.

We've put a couch cover over the couch--it's one of the slip covers that's a general shape secured by tied bows.  Cricket loves playing with them, which is going to get her fuzzy little head thumped.  Thankfully, she's not doing that right now, but...yeah.  She'll probably start pretty much when Odysseus reappears from where he's studying and doing homework in the master bedroom.

I'll be picking up the last papers on Monday, and starting them on blogging.  To be honest, I'm foreseeing a lot of them taking off with the blogging, and just turning in the work without making any more appearances.  I've got one that's notified me that they won't be there due to a death in the family, but they're pretty good about coming in if they need help.

I finished another story for the collection.  Brought it up to nearly 26K words.  I've outlined the next five chapters of Detritus, and gotten a good start on one--it's just at 21K words.  And I'm nearly a thousand words into a story of indeterminate length in a world that's still unfolding a bit. 

*The animated series from the '90's, not the movies.  

FFOT: a couple things

First: the fucking idiot twatwaffles that re-did the living room wiring can fuck the fucking fuck off.  In simply replacing a ceiling fan that badly needed it, we found the wiring is FUBARed enough that turning the wall switch ON kicks the breaker OFF.

Second: My own guts.  My own guts can fuck the fucking fuck off.  With cheese.  I have somehow managed to develop a gluten intolerance.  I get something with wheat ingredients, even with "less than 2%" such as in canned soups, I wind up with sharp pain, cramping from one end of digestion to the other, headache, brain fog, bad gas, and horrible dreams.  Thank GOD this does not extend to whiskey, or I really WOULD cry.  And cuss.  And cry some more.  Because bourbon. 

Frustration.

So.  Back in February, I got a stomach bug that took a week for me to get over.  It was no fun at all.  And I developed an intolerance to eating things made with wheat.

Everything is made with wheat: my favorite gravy mix, cream of mushroom soup, cream of chicken soup.  Everything I like to cook with is made with at least a little bit of wheat. 

Restaurants are an interesting minefield: apparently, either the pulled pork or the twice-baked mashed potatoes yesterday had wheat ingredients.  The Mexican restaurant brought me flour tortillas instead of the corn ones I asked for. 

Yeah, they make stuff that's supposed to help when symptoms have set in, but that's all it does: help.  A bit.  For a while.

I can't make and eat beef enchilada or chicken enchilada casseroles, anymore.  I can't use dry onion soup mix to make roast.  I can't make and eat the potato soup by the recipe I have.  No more cookies, unless I make them with special flour.  Same with biscuits.

I thought this would go away.  I thought it was a temporary thing, brought on by my entire digestive system deciding to scour itself over a five day virus, and causing some sort of imbalance.  So, I avoided the foods, and didn't bother looking up my symptoms.

Until yesterday.

And I've been having symptoms for a lot longer than I'd thought: frequent headaches (often migraine level), brain fog, and chronic fatigue are also symptoms of this.  It's not just a painful gut--there's a lot more to it that has only come clear months after I stopped eating most things with any wheat in them (and the rest of the symptoms mostly vanished).  Yes, my energy levels are still limited; I still have an underactive thyroid. 

But a lot of the other symptoms have mostly abated, with exceptions for times when I eat something that I don't know has wheat in it. 

It's frustrating, honestly.  I can't carelessly and thoughtlessly eat a burger, anymore, complete with bun and salad.  I can't eat a cheesy hash-brown casserole (cream of mushroom soup) if I don't want to be having to curl up somewhere out of the way to not bother the rest of the family visiting.  I can't just eat, anymore, without having to carefully consider whether I'm going to be in pain later. 

Thank God this doesn't seem to extend to bourbon.  If it did, I think I might cry.

Pen post, lot #2, pen 3

Okay.  This pen is not going up for sale.  No way, no how.  I've fallen head over heels in love with it.

Yes, that's my handwriting with this pen.  No, you can't have it.  ;)

I have no idea what kind of pen it is, just that it's a second tier (not the absolute best, but definitely not the cheapest there is), going by the silver-palladium alloy nib--the middle ground between a very nice gold nib and the cheap, sorta scratchy stainless steel nibs, like what my Parker pens* came with. 

My pen has a very fine nib that has a little bit of flex to it, not as much as some of the reports I've read of the 14 kt gold nibs that are made to flex, but much more than the pretty Noodler's pen that Odysseus got me for my birthday--handy for getting it started when it doesn't want to write immediately.  It's fine enough that it hasn't bled through or feathered on paper that every other one of my pens does that with, in a color of ink that always bleeds through (Parker Quink Black).  

No, the pen isn't really that pretty--some of my cheap, Jinhao pens are a lot prettier--and it's got a lot of wear marks under where the clip used to be on the top and bottom of the cap.  It's got scratches and rubbed spots on the body of the pen.  I'm not sure how old it is, but the ink sac is still in very good condition, and the pen holds quite a bit of ink for its size, and doesn't put down a flood of it, conserving what I've loaded quite well.

So far, everyone who's been brave enough to try it has been very disappointed that I'm not selling it.  Even the students who've never used one before, and been curious enough to try it out for the novelty.

The pen's only fault that I've found is that it has somewhat of a tendency to "burp"--the air in the ink sac can expand with either weather pressure changes or temperature changes, and push the ink that's in the feed's channel out through the nib, or up and out around the feed's filler hole right up against the section.  I've learned that it needs wiped down with a paper towel when the weather changes significantly.

(The pictures for this post were taken on a college ruled notebook I had handy, with the camera case used to keep the pen rolled to the angle I wanted the picture taken from, and taken in my lap.)

*The first pen I bought was a Parker Vector in red with a fine nib, then a bright blue Parker Reflex with a badly-made medium nib that never wrote right until after I took an emery board to it and turned it into a fine, then a medium nibbed Parker Vector in jade green.

Today's the day...

Um, no.

There's a church, a Baptist church, that is not too far from the campus.  We drive past it every time we take the kids to school, or Odysseus goes to class, or I go to teach.  Often times, their moveable type billboard is amusing ("Forbidden fruit makes for some interesting jams"), but recently, their message makes me want to slap somebody:

"Jesus died just for you."

Really?

Really.

Really.

What kind of special snowflake narcissist does it take to accept that message?  That they are, personally, more important to God and Christ than the rest of us.  Seriously?  Jesus died just for me?

Hardly.  I am one soul, in two thousand years of lost ones.  How am I more important that the uncounted billions between then and now? My kids are, in my opinion, far more important than I am.

No.  Christ didn't die "just for you."  He didn't die just for me.  He did something far more ballsy: he took on the sins of all of us, from the moment Adam fell through when the last human being goes poof because God decided he'd had enough of all of us.  He didn't die for any single one, but took on the sins of, and died to atone for, all of us.   

"Jesus died just for you."

Right. 

Looking forward to tomorrow morning.

Yes, I have grading still to do (which I'm not currently working on because I'm REALLY not in the right mindset), but I'll have most of the morning to do it, and won't have to deal with laundry, dishes, or mediating between fighting children.  Nor will I have the hellacious sinus headache that's been plaguing me all day...hopefully. 

It hasn't been an awful day, per se, but it has been uncomfortable and very, very long. 

random ramblings

The imp is doing a lot better with his spelling tests, but that's not surprising, since his memory work has always been really strong.  Last week's words included could, would, and should--words I couldn't reliably spell correctly until third grade--and he got 10/10.  I'm really proud of him when he actually tries.  And I tend to get annoyed because he's one of those who doesn't see the point in trying on the things that he doesn't see the point in.  And that attitude (and the actions and decisions it spawns) has him at risk of repeating kindergarten because he lacks the maturity and responsibility to go to first grade.

Sometimes, the difficulties he has at school makes me feel like a failure as a parent.

The pixie is doing better with her alphabet.  She recognizes almost all of the letters, but is still fuzzy on a half a dozen or so.  Mostly because she was absent when her class worked on them.  I'm still going to need to work with her on the things she missed being sick, but she really is learning a lot, and thriving in the environment at the little church school they go to. 

We got the cats a package of new rabbit fur catnip mice last night.  They're skittering around in the kitchen playing with them as we speak.  It's pretty funny--Shadow's kinda chunky, and hasn't realized that she can't still pull the same type of maneuvers as she used to be able to without losing her balance.

I'm having...issues...with the gmail account that I have listed as an email contact here.  I'm just about ready to write it off and create a different account for this blog as a contact point.

We're at the last stretch of class.  My classes have their last paper due for workshop next Wednesday, and it's due to me next Friday.  After that, I'll lecture on blogging, help students set up their blogs, and then we have another week or two of class, during which they'll be blogging, and coming in to pick up their last paper.  The last day of classes is 5/1.

I've actually made some progress on the novel--about 1,500 words' worth of progress.  Not much, but...better than nothing.  I haven't actually finished typing what I have written up, either.  And as I type what I have written longhand, I usually modify and add to it as I go. 

I have maybe another 1,500-2,000 words in the short story that will be going into the short story collection I have going, and another short story started.  Barely started.  This one is...different.  I'll probably email it to my beta readers when I have it finished with a synopsis of what the collection is doing before I decide what to do with it. 

Pen post #2, post 2

Another one of the pens that I got is a neat, nice little British made Platignum Silverline with a broad Italic nib.  It's one of the classics, with a squeeze filler, which was still in very good shape.  All it needed was cleaned up.  Who ever had owned it before me had emptied it, but hadn't bothered to clean it. 

The Platignum pen company has been around since 1919, and still produces fountain pens.  I couldn't tell you when this pen was made--it's in great shape.  It's a neat little pen, and the nib reminds me a lot of my Sheaffer No Nonsense calligraphy pen.

Inked up with Noodler's Burgundy and with a writing sample.

Shot of the broad nib.

This is a nice pen.  A very nice pen.  I know it's a third tier, student-level pen, made to be affordable, but it's honestly a great calligraphy pen. 

Yep. This.

If anyone wants one of the pens I post pics of...

...they can email me at heroditus.huxley@gmail.comyahoo.com before I put them up for sale on ebay or Amazon, whichever costs me less.  There'll be a listing with photos somewhere in a tab of my pages above the blog proper of the pens I've got ready as I get them ready, until I put them up for sale on one of the two sites mentioned.

Right now, I've got two cleaned up and ready.

Parker 45 with original converter--$55
1948 Parker 21--$40

Pen post, lot #2, post 1 take 2

I found the camera earlier when I was retrieving something one of the cats knocked behind the end table.  Here's the Parker 45 I was talking about:

 Capped, with a writing sample.  As it says, it has a medium nib (in stainless steel, I'm pretty sure), and was inked with Parker Quink.

 The pen would probably be long enough to write comfortably with the cap laid off to the side, for those who prefer that, but it does post well, too.

Since it comes with the squeeze converter Parker used to make their pens with, whoever buys this on Amazon will be able to use bottled ink; however, since it's a removable converter, they don't have to--they could conceivably use Parker Quink cartridges.

It is a fairly nice pen, much nicer than the Vector that I used all through grad school and all the way up to...last July, when Odysseus got me a new fountain pen for our tenth anniversary.  The Vector still works, by the way--it's just too skinny for comfort when the weather's being normal Missouri weather.  The Parker 45 is likely as reliable, if not more so, since it is a nicer pen. 

One of those days...

It's already been a hell of a day.  The imp was whiny and uncooperative this morning (which bodes ill for his day at school).  First, he didn't want to get dressed.  Then, he didn't want either of the options for breakfast that were offered (wanted something that's weekend food because of how long it takes for them to eat it).  And finally, he yanked the tongue out of his new pair of (cheap) shoes, then burst into tears because I said he couldn't wear them to school. 

I've got grading to do.  And I simply don't want to do it.  But...I'll be leaving at 11:30 to go pick up the pixie, and probably won't have time to do any of it until after they go to bed if I don't do some of it now.

Pen post, lot #2, post 1

Two weeks ago Friday, I won a lot of about a dozen pens on auction at ebay.  I was a nervous wreck--I sniped it at the last possible second.

Out of those pens was one that will be going up for sale as soon as I test it, then re-clean it: a Parker 45 in a dark blue.  It's a very pretty pen, with a medium nib (not my preference, honestly).

A little bit of history, here: the Parker 45 was the first cartridge fountain pen that Parker made.  I'm not precisely sure when the specific one in my possession was made and sold, but it does come with something that newer ones don't: an original squeeze converter.  The converter that has the metal frame around the rubber sac, with a squeeze-bar as part of the whole thing.  You dip the nib into the ink up to the grip section, then squeeze and let go slowly about three or four times for a full fill.

It's supposed to be one of the nicer, under-appreciated pens of Parker's lineup, but I haven't inked it up to try it out, yet, and don't really have the time to do so and try it out.  I need to have already started grading...and I haven't, yet.  I'm half a mind to do it anyway...

Never mind.  I'd intended to write with it, and take pictures to use to sell it (and post the pictures for y'all) but I can't find the damned camera. 

Maybe later.

No pics tonight...

Sorry about that, but today's been rather hectic.  Our new washer arrived today, amidst a bit of a clusterfuck.  See, we don't get home until 12:30, at the earliest, and we asked the store to arrange an afternoon delivery.

That got fucked up.  And the delivery guys tried to deliver an hour before we got home.

Thank God they were willing to come back today, since it wasn't their fuckup, or that would have fucked tomorrow and Wednesday, too.

In any case, we have a new washer...and we've really put it through its paces.  It's working on its fifth load (three loads are dry, one's in the dryer).  I think it's safe to say that it works, and works quite well.

I am rather beat.  Because along with that?  I've also unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, put away things drug out to try to make room to bring in the new washer, and gathered more dirty clothes from various parts of the house.  And supervised homework, and showed the kids a bunny I saw sitting in the neighbor's yard eating his grass.*

I don't think I have the energy to do much grading tonight.  I can do a few, but then I'm going to go to bed.  Tomorrow's going to be a long day, too.

But I'll try to find the camera and get pictures of the pens I got.  And maybe a bit of a writing sample of the one lever pen that's not freakin' going anywhere because I fell in love with it.  And I can do a writing sample with the Parker 45 that I'll also be putting up for sale when I do the Parker 21. 

*I wish the bunny would bring all of his/her little friends and mow the back yard.  It needs it already, and we're not going to have enough dry days for our ancient little mower to survive trying to chew through the tall, wet stuff.

Pens!

I got another dozen in the mail, yesterday.  Between the Parker 21 I already acquired, and the 45 in the lot, I already had pens enough to cover what I spent acquiring twenty pens.  Also in the lot is a Sheaffer Fineline, with the goldtone cap.  Which will also be a nice bit of change when I sell it. 

Odysseus compared my pen lots as panning for gold.  I haven't found anything incredibly valuable, but the ones I have found have been able to recoup enough for me to be able to keep the few little oddities that I like--like the Universal fountain pen with a stupid-huge screw in glass cartridge.  Or this nameless little lever-fill with the silver-palladium alloy fine point nib that writes like a fucking dream.  Or the adorable, elegant little Marlowe ladies' pen, with someone's name inscribed on it.  (Yes, I'll post pictures later.  If anyone's interested.)

Some of the pens that aren't worth a whole lot will probably be fixed, and the ones I don't plan to keep will either get sold at flea markets, on Amazon, or handed off to anyone who wants to buy one on campus (or as gifts--I have a transparent Sheaffer students' cartridge pen with a medium nib in a blue plastic section that should work fine now that I have it cleaned up, but isn't worth more than about $5). 

Out of the two dozen pens I have, I'm planning on keeping five or six--the Eclipse ladies' pen is too damaged to sell, otherwise it'd be going, too, despite how cute it is.  One is the Waltham (for which I cannot find a clip), one is the slim and elegant little Marlowe pen, and then there's the lever fill I've been playing with all day.  I'm planning on keeping the glass cartridge Universal pen, since I'd get maybe five or ten for that.  I'm undecided on the Arnold pen (it's a very pretty green, and isn't worth much...but it is in very good shape, and should be a simple fix).  There are another six that are either in awful shape, and/or will take more time to identify and find caps for.  The rest will be put up for sale as I get them rehabbed.  And/or figure out an alternate for a cartridge that's no longer made (*cough*Wearever*cough*). 

random ramblings

Sometimes, I really hate not home schooling the kids. 

Both were sick on Wednesday (which meant that the pixie missed her class's Easter party), but the imp was good to go for Thursday...just in time for his class's party.  Where they served Easter colored treats.  Like sugar cookies with orange frosting, and (probably) kool-aid. 

Both of which had red food coloring, judging by his behavior. 

We've asked his teacher, and asked his teacher, and asked his teacher to make sure he doesn't  get anything with red food coloring in it, and pointed out that his behavior becomes uncontrollable, and it's not his fault.  And it still happened, and he still got in big trouble, and we didn't realize what was going on until I found the remains of his goodie bag in his backpack. 

I am seriously so angry about it I could spit.  And I am inclined to ask for him to be sent to the office for all parties next year (with treats being given when he gets home). 

It's a damn good thing that he doesn't have a life-threatening allergic reaction to red food coloring.  Otherwise, I'd have had to sue the school, and I hate the thought of that.

I'm really thankful the pixie doesn't have any similar problems with food coloring. 

I'm going to have to work with her on the alphabet, though.  She's missed enough school to be a bit behind her classmates.  I hate that she gets so sick so easily, and I'm beginning to think I'm going to have to get her a boys' coat next fall, and save her cute little wool-blend coat for special dress-up occasions.  Because the imp's coat has an elastic band that keeps the hood close around his ears, and hers doesn't.  And she is the one with ear trouble.

We had a tornado warning that sent us to shelter, Wednesday night.  Unfortunately, I'd given the imp a dose of Benedryl when he went to bed, and couldn't get him to wake up.  I wound up walking him down the hall by kicking his heels because he's too big for me to carry, now.  He's over four feet tall, and I'm four feet eleven inches.  He wound up curling up on the bathroom floor and going back to sleep.  Odysseus had to carry him back to bed. 

Cricket flipped out and wouldn't settle while we were in the bathroom, but Shadow found a comfy spot and refused to move.  She was still there when we went looking for the cats to put them in the utility room for the night. 

I'm still really angry about having my chalkboard taken out of my room.  Worse was that they'd already taken it down before class started, and I'd needed the damn thing.  I wound up only able to do about half of what I'd planned to do, because I didn't have a chalkboard.  And Monday, I'll have a piece of shit dry erase board to work with.  If I'm lucky enough to have anything at all.

I'm about two thirds of the way through with another short story.  I've got just over 20K words in the short story collection I've tentatively titled Normalcy Bias.  I've got maybe a quarter done on Detritus, and it's just under 20K words.  And...I forgot the draft book at my mother's, last week, so didn't get any work done on it last week. 

I think that's it, for the time being...I'm waiting on the mail to run, because there's another 12 fountain pens coming today.  One of them is the first cartridge pen that Parker made, and I'm a little excited to see it, and test it out.

Fucking maintenence twats.

The head of maintenance (read: chief janitor) of the library has decided that he hates my chalkboard, and will replace it with a whiteboard. 

Never mind that I never make a mess with it, and I tend to clean up messes as I find them left by the other twits using my classroom.  Never mind that I bring my own chalk.  Never mind that whiteboards glare under any lighting, always over the text  Never mind that the fucking whiteboards are never readable.  Never mind that the markers never work (and chalk always does).  My chalkboard will be replaced by someone who doesn't do their job anyway to excuse the fact that I am the one that does their job in my classroom. 

At the point where I no longer care one way or the other, I may bring in a fucking Sharpie to write notes on their wonderful whiteboard. 

Not much longer...

I picked up the fourth paper from my classes, today.  And we started the lecture over the last paper, the research paper. 

It's due in 17 days.  After that, we'll do the blogging while I grade papers.  Any revisions needing done will be due by email during final exam time (adheres to the letter of the requirement that I schedule something for the final exam time set for a fucking skills class, the true final exam for which is the research paper).  While they're blogging, I'll have a four hour bloc where I sit in a quiet room, by myself, three days per week--about six class days. 

And then, we're done.  The last day of semester is the first of May.  The next week is finals. 

The kids will have three more weeks where they're in school, so I'll have three weeks of half days, on MWF, with no children underfoot. 

And, over the summer, I plan to pick a day every couple of weeks where I run the kids up and drop them off with my mother, and have the day to myself. 

One of the things I plan to do is work on refurbishing fountain pens.  I've got twelve, now, seven with caps, four that need them, and one that's not worth trying to mess with, with another twelve shipping from Chicago soon.  There is at least one Parker in that bunch, and two Sheaffers.  At the moment, though, I have one pen ready for sale right now, six pens that are worth refurbing (but two that I'll be keeping--the Waltham and the ladies' Eclipse), four that I'm not sure about because they don't have fitting caps, and one that was badly redone, and cannot be repaired without a new pen body. 

(One of the pens I found at a flea market yesterday is interesting, and quite pretty: it's a Remington, and looks like this...but lacks the cap for the fountain pen end of the pen/pencil combo.)

This fall, the imp will likely* start first grade, and the pixie will be in every day half day classes for pre-K for four year olds.  And I'll be back on campus (I think--I haven't gotten my class assignments, yet).  Odysseus graduates this summer (end of July) with an accounting degree, so I don't know what his schedule will be this fall. 

But for now, that's not really what I need to be focusing on.  Right now, I need to be focusing on watching my sick kids, and getting things around here ready to be gotten out of the way for the new washer, which will be coming in sometime Monday afternoon.  And the eight plus loads of laundry that are awaiting it.

Teh suck

The pixie is sick.  Again.  With yet another head cold, which is clogging her ears and making her throat sore.  Sore to the point of making her cry...which exacerbates the problem.

The imp has it, too.  Just not with the ears.

I can feel a sore throat coming on myself. 

Damn it.  When is it going to fucking stop???

Because I was curious...

I can't tell what four of the pens that arrived in the lot of seven are.  Two of them have no unique feature, other than a previous owner's name etched and gold leafed into the side of the pen.  One is the yellow hermaphrodite.  The fourth is the little, three and a half inch long pen with the ring on top instead of a clip on the cap.  I think I got a good picture of that one--it's the fourth picture down on the post from last Friday.  It's absolutely adorable, even if the barrel of the pen is bent, and because I couldn't identify it, I wasn't planning on selling it.  I'm still not, since the barrel of the pen is bent, and there's a tiny crack in the pen body at the top of the lever.  But the not knowing was bugging the ever living hell out of me.

I typed the description of one of my pens' unique feature into a search engine--a laurel wreath engraved on a teensy medallion on the end of the lever.  Turns out, that was the identifying feature: the pen is a lady's pendant Eclipse, made between 1928 and 1932.

I found some pictures, and yep: that's my pen. 

Mystery solved.

I'm not dead yet...

...but life is holding the club at the ready to bash me in the head. 

It's been a long weekend.

Gah.

Got my pens, and found out that one had had the sac replaced, and someone had done it really, really badly: instead of letting the rubber cement dry before putting the pen back together, they ended up gluing the nib section to the  sac to the bar to the pen barrel.  Which cracked when I tried pulling the pen apart with my fingers. 

And it was a rather neat pen, too--the feed is transparent, and the nib looks to be in excellent shape.

I got two unidentified pens that came without a cap, and one extra cap. (And yes, that is my hand.)

 There's a yellow hermaphrodite* pen with a bent nib.  The cap doesn't fit the rest of the pen...which is what bent the nib. 

 I got an unidentified lever pen with a ring on the top of the cap rather than a clip, and a missing nib and broken feed.  The lever has some really pretty engravings, so bent or not, I'm going to replace the nib and feed and ink sac, and keep it.  If I can straighten the barrel, I'll consider selling it.

 I got an Eberhardt Faber Permapoint with some of the cap decorations (a ring at the bottom) missing, a nib bent away from the feed, and no ink sac.

And I got a Parker 21.  Probably a first generation, made in 1948, with a fine nib.  Yes, that's my handwriting. 

Nothing is  particularly worth a lot of money--the Parker is worth the most, and it might cover the cost of this lot  of pens. 






*The pen is both fountain pen and mechanical pencil...which works and has a blue lead in it.

Squee!!!

I just checked the tracking on my fountain pens coming in for refurbishing...and they're out for delivery!!!!  I get to dismantle and inspect very old pens today!!!  Looks like I've got one (bent) hard rubber fountain pen (of indeterminate brand until I get a chance to get a REALLY GOOD LOOK at it) that will need a LOT of work, since it's actually missing a nib and feed as well as needing to be heated and straightened...but all of the rest look usable with just a new feed sac.  Which I will need to measure each pen for. 

If it seems like I'm excited, it's because I am.  I like fixing things, and tinkering.  I don't have the tools or capabilities to do that with my guns, but pens?  Pens I can do.

Busting my ass.

I got the pixie situated with a coloring book and Sleeping Beauty this morning...and then went and cleared the stuff out from between the end of the bed and Odysseus's dresser.  Then, I put on the new Tinkerbell movie that the pixie bought with her own money.  And got books shelved.  And put up a new set of plastic shelves on top of the dresser.  Put the pixie down for a nap...and got the sewing table mostly cleared off so that we can put it up on risers, and make it a more comfortable desk for Odysseus to use here at home. 

I still have quite a bit to do back in the master bedroom today.  I should go get back on that before my energy level drops into the negatives. 

I'm hoping the increased peace of mind from not living in the middle of a huge mess helps my writing output. 

OH, COME ON!

FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK, CLEVELAND, OHIO, POSTAL SORTING CENTER!  DO YOU HAVE  TO HANG ON TO THINGS FOR MORE THAN TWENTY-FOUR FUCKING HOURS, WHEN IT'S NOWHERE NEAR A WEEKEND!!!

Damn it, I'm WAITING on the rest of my pens, and beginning to be VERY UNHAPPY with the postal service.*

*More so than usual, at least.

Boo!

In soaking the nib and feed* to be able to pull them from the section holding them for a good cleaning, I discovered that the feed was broken.  The only thing holding it together was dried ink.

And, given the time period when the pen was manufactured, finding a feed that fits could be a pain in the ass.

Current tally: I need a new feed, and an ink sac.  The presser bar is in sparklingly perfect shape.

*I'm assuming this isn't needed, but just in case: the feed is the plastic thing just behind the metal nib that brings the ink to the pen tip.

Yay!

My Waltham pen has arrived!  I actually got the nib and feed section pulled out of the body with no problems...and promptly dumped out the ossified and shattered ink sac.  I've got the inside of the pen barrel cleaned, and the nib seems to be in good shape.  I do, however, need to get some clear, non-sudsing ammonia to clean the nib and feed.  I can see dried ink stains, but can't get them cleared out.

Long couple days

So.  Our washer, a 32 year old almond colored Maytag, is dead.  The parts aren't even made anymore.  The repair guy can't work any more miracles.  Doesn't even need it for parts, because all of its generation are dead or dying.  Were it a car, it'd probably have somewhere around a million miles on it.  Or more.  As 'tis, the last time being overloaded was the last time.

Time to get a new washer. 

We already know what we're going to get to replace it.  It's got a feature I can't resist, despite it being a hundred, hundred fifty more than my second choice: a cycle for extra heavily soiled clothes (read: small boy playing outside). 

In the meantime, we'll either be taking all of the clothes to a laundromat to get them all done at once (three baskets full--it might be the best option) or borrowing a friend or family member's machine. 

This happened last week.  Thursday or so.  I noticed it on Friday, and called the repair guy on Saturday.  He promised he'd call and come by yesterday.

And so, Sunday, I cleaned half my house.  The living room and the kitchen--the biggest mess in the house, due to small children helping make the mess.  It took almost all day, and I managed to do most of the work.  With zero energy.  I just...kept moving. 

I paid for it yesterday.  My feet still hurt. 

And today, I get to start on the bedrooms.  Once I get the cat butt off my arm and can get up, at least.  Most of that will be done (today, at least) sitting on the floor.

random ramblings

The kids have been home all week.  Home and a little bored.  We've gone through several coloring books. The pixie has been using a kindergarten curriculum workbook as a coloring book (completely ignoring all instructions and expecting praise for a job well done).   And the imp has done a good number of worksheets in a grade 1 workbook--which is about where he is in school.  I think he'll probably be well into, if not finished with, the stuff in the book long before the end of the school year, since they have a full quarter left. 

Yeah, and he's been working through the worksheets on his own.  He just needed help with figuring out the word search and the crossword puzzles.  I'm hopeful that, with this latest leap forward in maturity, he'll be ready for first grade by the end of the year.  If he's not, he's not--I don't want to push him past his capacity--but I think he will be.

The pixie is finally recovered from her latest round of nasty.  She's done with her antibiotics for her ear infection, and she's not hacking and stopped up (which I'm not sure if that was a virus or allergies--I'll be starting her on Claritin tabs before school just like I do with the imp).  Last night, she came to me whining that she needed help blowing her nose.  So, I helped her, and she got rid of the last of the problems: a wad of nasty about twice as big as a jellybean.  Since then, she's been fine. 

The cats have had a new version of entertainment, this week.  The birds have well and truly returned, and seem to really love the maple trees out in front of the house.  Shadow really, desperately wants a birdie.  She'll sit on my end table, staring out the window, chin quivering, and tail sweeping everything off the table.  Never makes a sound, though.

Cricket, on the other hand...yeah.  She talks constantly, and when she's in the window, talking, with the same chin quiver as Shadow has, she sounds ridiculous.

Odysseus and I have been on Spring Break this week, too.  We've gotten some things done, but not a whole lot.  Mostly because he managed to overload and overheat our washer in doing laundry.  It never finished a spin cycle, and now, it won't.  I'm not sure if it's dead, or if there's just a belt slipped half off.  We've called the repair guy, and he'll be out sometime Monday to look at it. 

I suppose in the meantime, I'll just focus on the kitchen.

I found out, this week, that I can't really focus on writing a whole lot after the kids go to bed.  I'm usually too fried from watching them--even when they're watching TV, they're often poking at one another to start fights.  I won't have any grading next week, so my office hours should suffice for some writing, at least.

I've not given up, people.  I promise.  It's just taking a lot more time than I'd figured on.

Just jumped.

I was given a bit of cash for my birthday, and I had an idea I've been wanting to try for a while.  So, I took my birthday money to Walmart, and bought a prepaid Visa.  And then, I went on ebay and used it to buy a few vintage fountain pens in need of repair. 

I have one that I want for me--it's a lever-filled Waltham, an almost tortoise shell brown/gold marble celluloid pen that was made in the '40s by a company that went under when the owners were nailed for tax evasion and war profiteering.  It probably cost about $0.35 new, and the nib looked in good shape from the pictures.  The sac will need replaced, and I'll have to see about the presser bar (it might be fine, it might be rusted).  The clip is gone, but...I may be able to fix that, too.  It's a lovely pen, from the picture, and has a history I can only wonder at.

It looks, in coloring and pattern, a bit like one I'd put in my Amazon wish list.  That one would have cost $25.  And not had the interesting company history.  This one was actually made in the U.S., and cost $10.

The rest were a lot.  About seven pens in various brands, including at least one Parker. 

That one is going to wait until I'm sure I can do the restoration by practicing on the other pens.  Because I want to make sure I don't screw up on a pen that could bring in a few hundred dollars when I resell it.

I'll post pictures when I get the pens, and when I get them refurbished. 

I'm a little bit excited, here.

Awesome video.

Had this one on my mind for a while, so I thought I'd share it here.  It's not the song, it's the video.  And it's Christopher freakin' Walken.

Random ramblings

So, the imp went back to school, last week.  He did fairly well, from what I can tell.  Four days blue with only one green.  He got 8/10 on his spelling test, and from what I gathered, got everything he was supposed to do done in class, during the time set to do it. 

We're pretty proud of him.  Everything's continuing to improve. 

The pixie went to class on Monday, and popped a pretty significant fever on Tuesday.  She spent Tuesday and Wednesday sick and lethargic, and we took her to the doctor on Thursday.  Turns out the fever was being caused by an ear infection (as was the nausea and other tummy troubles--which she'd been having for about a week).  We've got some antibiotics for it, and she's been perking right up.  Today is her third of five days of antibiotics. 

Hopefully, we'll get her respiratory crap under control, too, since she's got this next week to recover. 

Speaking of, this week is Spring Break for the kids, and for us.  I have a week off where I can work on the housework, and work on finally getting enough rest and maybe get to feeling human.  The pixie has a full week where she's not around the other little snot-gobbling germ factories.  And the imp will have a break from the expectations of school.

I'm sure the cats will be happy to have the kids home.  Shadow has been desperately wanting the imp, in particular--she tries to sleep near him in the afternoons and evenings, and tries to claw her way into his room to sleep on him at night.  Needless to say, that gets her tossed in the laundry room with the door closed.

I begin to be tempted to toss Cricket when the pixie is sleeping.  When I go use the hall bathroom and close the door, Cricket is instantly there, clawing and yowling for me to let her in (the pixie's bedroom door is about four or five feet from the bathroom door), which makes me afraid that the dumb, codependent cat with severe separation anxiety will wake the pixie.  I do love the cat, but I swear she's got less than a third of the smarts of a normal cat.  She's three years old, and still plays like she's six months old (and is as clumsy as a small kitten), and talks to her toys the whole time she's playing with them--sometimes up to two hours at a time. 

As I mentioned, I finished grading papers and got midterms turned in...just before the pixie and my other half took sick.  The pixie's was an ear infection--Odysseus's seemed to be a mild flu.  I'd been planning to go out to eat Wednesday night, but...yeah.  We went today for lunch, instead. 

Odysseus is finishing up the last bits of class work due before his Spring Break officially starts.  And I've got projects lined up for myself, and I think he's got a couple lined up, too.  Not sure what (beyond a couple of requests on the housecleaning front). 

Part of my intended projects for Spring Break is another 18,000 words written on Detritus.  I've got a bit over 17,000 words done, and I think this is going to be a longer book than I've been writing.  I think 18K more words might get me to the halfway point.  Might.  It might only be about a third of the way done, at that point.  It's kind of slow.  More character than plot driven. 

Another project is to finish the cover art and get "Bar Tabs" Kindle published. 

I still don't know when my cover artist will have art ready for Fire and Forge.  I've been feeling like I'm taking advantage of her, since all I'd been paying her with up to now is a hard copy of the book her work appears on.  I'm hoping she'll give me something I can do for her to pay her for this art. 

Any case...I should have some time (and maybe some mental energy) this week, so I'm going to see what I can get done on the fronts that teaching school has pushed to last place in my priorities.

Midterm grades turned in...

...I can breathe for a few weeks.  Next week is Spring Break (for all of us), and then paper 4 isn't due until 4/1. 

Time to buckle down and focus on something else.

Ouch.

I did it.  I graded half a class's worth of papers in two hours.  With the exception of one extension granted, I'll be ready to turn in midterm grades as of tomorrow night.

My head hurts.  I'm going to read and decompress for a little bit, then go to bed.

Ah. Time to settle in with yet more grading.

I'm planning to bust my ass tonight so I can finish everything (including turning in midterm grades) by tomorrow at the latest, and hand it back on Wednesday.

And now, for something completely different...

I'll be spending the next three evenings grading papers! 

(okay, I'll stop being sarcastic, now.)

random ramblings

The kids have spent the week sick, which has been hell to juggle between my schedule and Odysseus's.  They're finally getting better, just as I've come down with a head cold (which is now moving from my head to my chest.  Damn it).  They're feeling good enough to start fighting, so they're feeling good enough to be confined to their rooms since I'm not feeling good enough to intervene every two minutes. 

I wish I felt good enough to start working with the imp on last week's spelling words and bible verse.  It might keep the little twerp too occupied to fight with his sister...even if it did have the side effect of making him as miserable as I am.

The cats have been...cats.  Cricket has been co-dependent and is back to drooling and slinging drool everywhere.  Shadow has been clingy--she's taken to walking up on my chest and flinging her legs out from under her.  I have to catch her to keep her from landing on my laptop keyboard...at which point, she lays her head on my shoulder and exhales a loud purr.

I have been sick so very much this year--and we're only at the beginning of March--that I'm beginning to wonder if I've been carrying too much stress, trying to keep too many balls in the air between taking care of the kids, and keeping up with my classes and grading.  I cannot let the classes lapse, since that's where most of our income comes from, and I will not let the kids suffer, either.  I can't wait until summer.  And I'm afraid that something's gonna give before then, even though there's not more than about eight weeks of my semester left.

And I'm already dreading the start of Fall semester.

I can tell you one thing that has been dropped, for the most part, since I can't keep up with everything else: my writing.  I've only written something like about 3,000 words since the beginning of the year.  And I do not have the time, or the energy (physical or mental) to do better than what I've been doing.  It just isn't happening, and won't be happening.  I'll be working on getting the things I have done published, and then that will be it until summer, at least.  I'm not giving up, but I'm barely treading water.

When I said...

...that I'd rather be sick than have my kids be sick, I meant with what they've got, not some random head cold that comes out of nowhere!

It never rains...

...but it pours.  The pixie started throwing up last night, and is running a fever this morning. 

At least the imp is getting better.

Cold and nasty.

So, schools in our area have been cancelled.  Many of them after the kids were bussed in.  Snow is coming down pretty darn quick--at times, blizzard quick.  And that, on top of frozen rain and sleet.

The university was one of the last to cancel classes. 

I am so damn sick of all the snow and ice that I could scream. 

Yet another fountain pen repaired.

Back when I got my Jinhao 250 set (four pens, all quite nice, varying in nib size from fine through medium fine to true medium), I was very much a fountain pen newby.  I made the newby mistake of thinking that bottled ink was bottled ink, and nearly ruined three pens using India ink, which contains shellac. 

One didn't get as much abuse as the others, and Odysseus has been using it (the medium fine nib in the silver pen body).  One was worse than the others, and had major issues with drying out and skipping...and I will admit I lost my patience with it a bit, and when the cap cracked on one of my favorite pen barrels, I switched the bad nib into that pen body and said to hell with it.  I'd just about decided to leave it un-inked, once I got the ink used up out of the converter. 

Yesterday, I decided to use the ink up.  I found it a lot worse than I remembered, and utterly lost what patience I had with it.  I pulled the nib and feed...and found chunks of the India ink clogging bits of the feed almost totally.  It was bad enough that it took a toothbrush and some elbow grease to get the chunks cleaned up.  And time.  It took enough effort that I was about ready to set it down and go get my gun cleaning picks. 

I also taped the cracked cap on the inside of the cap. 

The pen writes beautifully, now.  My only complaint is that it really is a true medium on the nib, and very generous with laying down the ink--traits I don't particularly care for.

Sick kid.

No, not the pixie.  The imp.  Started throwing up Friday night, threw up every half hour or so all night, then all day Saturday.  Finally got him to stop around 10:30 Saturday night.  He's still down, because he just doesn't feel up to eating much.  He refused anything at all until around 6:30 Sunday afternoon--nearly two full days without eating.  No, he didn't go to school.

Well, let me revise that.  The pixie is also sick.  Hers is respiratory...like usual.  I am really, really beginning to regret my decision to go ahead and follow their preferences to put them in school.  I love my kids, and I hate disappointing them, but  I should have remembered that school = getting sick constantly.

I'm frazzled, fried, and feeling like a massive failure as a parent...not because they got sick, but because I'm really, really losing patience with the sibling who's sicker competition, and the constant, miserable whining.  Supervising my classes' peer editing today was a huge relief.

Right now, they're down for a nap, so I've got a short break.  I'm trying to get some writing done while they're down.  Failing that, I'll do some of the backed up housework (but I'm not feeling that great myself, and would rather put it off until I'm not feeling mildly flu-ish).

My family keeps wondering why the kids aren't just in public school.

The imp has a spelling test, today (if they don't run out of time--it's a Friday thing, but Friday's cancelled).  He's in kindergarten, if y'all remember.  He's also reading fairly well. 

He is not being bullied.  At all.

Not like this poor little five-year-old girl in Pascagoula, Mississippi, who was kicked in the face repeatedly while playing on the slide (though the school somehow thinks she beat her own face misshapen, and blacked her own eyes because they didn't see it happen). 

And definitely not like this poor twelve-year-old boy who was hospitalized with a skull fracture (and leaking spinal fluid) by another boy two years older and three times bigger. 

There's a point where kids ought to be taught to stand up to bullies, and then there's a point where the bullies need to be forcibly removed from interacting with other children.  Unfortunately, most public schools are beyond unwilling to do anything but close their eyes and blame the victim. 

Honestly, were I either of those children's parent, I'd be yanking my kid out of the schools, homeschooling them, and suing the pants off of the district.

I hate being behind in work.

Whether that work is housework or the stuff that brings the paycheck, I hate being behind. 

And I'm behind in everything.  Trying my best to catch up, but it's not going quickly.  And the thing I most want to be working on (my writing) is what has to be set aside until I get everything else done. 

Yesterday helped, but not as much as I was hoping.  I got my papers that were turned in via the course website graded (eight very good papers in the course of an hour), then turned to the print copies.  The very first paper I  picked up...yeah, I got lost in trying to decipher what the individual was trying to say, and didn't manage to get through the paper in an hour.  The student really needs an ESL tutor, really, really badly.  Their ideas are spectacularly good, but their word choices and structure really make that hard to see.  And their papers take me over an hour to get through and grade.  I'm honestly tempted to put an F and a "see a tutor to turn this into standard English" note on the top, and be done with it.

And now, I'm behind in where I intended to be, on top of being a week behind in my grading thanks to that damn bout with the stomach flu.  

I know I'm late with the announcement, but it's been a busy day.

Today was Odysseus's birthday.  We spent most of the day with his parents, or with wrangling the kids after we got home (rather: I wrangled, while he did homework and took an online quiz).

I'm just about done in, so I think it's time for me to head for bed.

random ramblings

The imp was sick, last week (got over it totally around last Saturday).  I didn't realize how bad until the call of "Mommy, my butt threw up."  And this past week, the pixie caught it, and I caught it.  We went down hard.  I've lost around another ten pounds.  I can tell the pixie's lost a bit of weight, too, and she didn't have it to lose.

She was incredibly cute, the night she started eating again.  She looked up at her daddy with big, sad eyes, and asked, "Would you carry me to bed?  My body's all wiggly."  It only took me a second to realize she meant she felt weak and shaky.  That was around Wednesday night.  

I will admit to being terribly irritable and short with the kids, this morning.  I woke up with a minor earache, and I'm a little dizzy, still with the earache, and now with a headache joining in.  And, of course, the kids are contentious and whiny. 

This morning, Odysseus has gone off to the volunteer tax prep service that the university set up (for credit for their accounting students.  I wasn't sure he'd have the opportunity--we had some sleet last night--but the roads were no more than just wet, this morning.  And he's good at driving on snow and ice with the Civic, much less the Subaru.  I'm only minimally worried, and more about the other fuckwits on the road causing incidents.  He'll be back sometime after five, right around supper time.  I've got some plans, but it'll depend on how I feel whether I can get 'em done or not.  Gonna do one of my chicken casseroles, if I feel up to it. 

The cats have started beating on each other in the evenings.  Turns out Odysseus doesn't feed 'em as much as I do, and leaves 'em hungry in the evening.  Which makes both kitties--both of which are normally sweet tempered with each other--really, really cranky and aggressive.  I'm gonna have to put a flat stop to that.

I'd actually planned on taking the kids up to my mother's, today, but the weather scotched that.  I'd planned  on helping my sister wash my dog, so that she didn't smell like a riverbank (Scotty dog likes to dig, and sleep in the holes).  They've started having her out in the house with them, just puppying about.  She likes to sleep between feet and furniture, and neither of the other two dogs in the house have the manners to be permitted the same treatment.  My dog's mother (my mother's dog--a puppy mill rescue) isn't really even house trained, though she's getting there.

I picked up papers last Friday, right before the pixie got sick.  I haven't managed to get started on 'em yet.  I'm gonna bust my ass to get those done today and tomorrow. 

I just realized something...I hope I have pants that fit to go teach in on Monday.

No, I have not gotten one word written during this past week.  I should be able to change that in short order during my office hours next week.

I also didn't manage to get a pound and a half of sliced mushrooms parted out and frozen.  Or any used to make meatless spaghetti sauce for the freezer.  And now, my mushrooms, which have been sitting in the back of the fridge for a week, are gonna have to get tossed.  Damn it.

Being sick sucks.  That has been a full seven weeks I've been mostly out of commission, and the year's only eight and a half weeks old.  Definitely praying for things to start looking up...

Still alive.

The tummy bug that hit the pixie was rather vicious.  She didn't eat from Sunday through yesterday, and all I've been able to get down her have been pancakes and goldfish crackers. 

I know first hand just how vicious it's been: I caught it, too.  I seem to be on the mend, but there's probably at least another day of fasting involved for me.  But it's definitely going to keep me out of the classroom tomorrow, just as it did on Wednesday.

Rough 24 hrs and counting...

The pixie has been sick.  Vomited twice in her bed fairly early on last night, and a few more times into a bucket while laying on the couch much later last night, and has spent the day laying on the couch sleeping and watching stuff, and vomiting at random points.  Only once did she get any on the couch, and even then, it wasn't much.  All over herself, on the other hand...yeah. 

She's already gotten her bed again tonight.  And the sleeve of the last clean, dry nightgown.  There are more in the wash, but I'm not whereabouts in the cycle they are.  She's currently in a school dress she wore last Wednesday, since that's what I found on short notice. 

I absolutely hate it when the kids are sick.  It's emotionally rough, since I'd rather be sick than watch them suffer, and physically demanding jumping around to make sure they hit the bucket when they lose what little they've managed to put in their stomach.  Given that I spent until two this morning sitting up with her*, I'm inclined to lay down on the couch and conk out for a while, until the next time she needs cleaned up.

*My wonderful husband got up with the kids this morning, despite having migraine level pain with a sinus headache, and let me sleep until my need to take care of my sick baby woke me up.

random ramblings

The imp had his first spelling test, last week.  He got every word right, including the extra "surprise" word at the end.  We are very, very pleased. Unfortunately, they somehow managed to run out of time, this week--it's not surprising, since they had Friday off for a teacher development day.  They'll have Monday off, too, as that is President's Day.

He finally got a purple day* and got his toys back.  Including the blocks that had been in the pixie's room.  We had to find a set of blocks for the pixie--a small set of small, painted shape blocks, something that won't get mixed up in the imp's blocks.  Unfortunately, the blocks are so small and light that they won't build up on carpet.  I managed to adapt something for her (a 1" x 12" x 14" rectangular board), but she got awfully frustrated, at first.

We met up with some friends, last night.  My six year old son is almost as tall as her nine year old son.  They were a bit shocked.  My daughter is almost a foot taller than their son, who's only about a year and a couple months younger than she is.  Hell, to be honest, I  was a bit shocked.  I didn't realize my kids were that tall.

Anyhow, they're homeschooling, and she complained about her youngest daughter's handwriting.  I offered the loan of the fountain pen I fixed yesterday--kids, especially, are forced to slow down and think about what they're doing until they're used to it, and even then, are often so pleased with having something special to write with that they take more care.  My kids desperately want a fountain pen each, for example.  I've promised that I'll get each of them their own pen once they learn to write with one.  And I sent my friend the link, because the fountain pen I found is designed for kids: the grip part is molded, and there's a smiley face engraved in the nib to teach them how to hold and use a fountain pen.

My kids had their Valentines Day party at school, last Wednesday.  The pixie brought home a paper heart that she'd glued decorative puff balls to...badly, since all of the balls came off.  The cats...the cats just love those things, and have been routinely stealing them to play with in the kitchen where they slide and roll around on the linoleum.  I'm not sure what about them has attracted the cats' attention so firmly, but both cats have been acting like kittens with them.  Which makes me wonder if I shouldn't get the cats some new toys.

I picked up paper 2 yesterday, and one of my students told me they had a friend in a different Comp II class that hadn't even written one paper, yet.  They also told me that they'd picked my class for convenience (my class is in the library, in the middle of campus, rather than way off away from everybody but the business majors), but were incredibly glad they did because of how much they were learning, and because of the laid back environment, and the way I let them choose the topics.  (I rarely have two papers over the same topic, and almost never from the same point of view--which makes things a damn sight more interesting as I grade papers.)  Pretty much everyone in the classroom agreed with that student.  And they're planning to have a lot  of fun with the evaluation essay--they can review a movie** or a book** or a video game** or music, or anything else they can think of.

Writing hasn't totally stalled, but I've had less time than I'd prefer--I'm still trying to catch up with the housework that I couldn't do for almost six full weeks.  I've gotten caught up with taking care of the cats, but I've still got laundry (and clean clothes to put away), the kitchen (although I've banned the use of real dishes until further notice), and the living room to deal with.  Not to mention the master bedroom.

And I'm still waiting on cover art...

*The imp's class has a behavior chart, graded by colors.  Pink is spectacular, purple is excellent, blue is good, green is "ready to learn" and is the minimum acceptable, and yellow, orange, and red are bad behavior.

**For the movie review, they have to watch something they haven't seen; however, since books and video games take a lot more time to get through, I don't require fresh eyes on that.  I don't want to hamper them with getting stuff done for other classes in doing homework for mine.

I feel a sense of accomplishment.

Back in 2003, just after I bought my red Parker Vector pen (a decent pen for a student), I bought a blue Parker Reflex (which is no longer in production, though you can still find them).  From day one, it didn't work.  It either flooded or skipped, depending on the angle I held it, and the letter I was trying to write at the time. 

I very sadly put it away, since it was precisely my favorite shade of blue. 

Fast forward twelve years.  I spotted the problem with the pen last week: the tines were uneven.  Not crooked--the feed slit in the nib was cut unevenly.  One tine was shorter and much narrower than the other. 

So, I started trying to figure out if I could replace the nib--hard to say, because I cannot figure out the size of nib I need.  I know more than I used to, but I'm still far more novice than expert.  I did get the nib and feeder* removed and got a better look at the problem, today. 

And then, I fixed it.  It's a cheap, soft stainless steel nib--nothing high quality, but utilitarian, when it works--so I took an emery board to it, and evened up the tines, then put it back.  Inserted a cartridge, and tried it out.

It works.  For the first time since I bought it, it neither floods nor skips.  

Best of all?  I much prefer a fine nib to the medium it came with, and after the work I did evening up the tines on the nib, it's now more fine than medium.

*The feeder is the plastic thing behind the metal that makes up the nib.

Sounds about right.

"At a news conference last week in Brussels, Christiana Figueres, executive secretary of U.N.'s Framework Convention on Climate Change, admitted that the goal of environmental activists is not to save the world from ecological calamity but to destroy capitalism."

I'd show you my shocked face, but I'm too busy rubbing my temples with exasperation that everyone seems to have fallen for this shit, and is in the process of destroying  first world nations' economies in the guise of trying to save a planet that isn't dying.

Granted, developing countries--like India and China--need to do an absolute fuck-ton of work on just how badly their industries pollute their air and water; however, these nations either are too busy trying to boot-strap themselves up into the current century to give a flying fuck about trying to save the rest of the planet (which again, isn't in danger), or they saw through what had fooled everyone else.  Honestly, I'm betting on the first: it takes an affluent society to have the breathing room to raise their eyes from their work and wonder what they can fuck with next.

I don't think I can imagine the frustration.

Okay, here's the story: a nineteen year old girl in Texas has some of the shittiest parents I can imagine.  I don't know if there was any abuse defined as such, but there's certainly a level of hampering her getting on with her life that I think merits at least a short prison sentence.

Alicia Pennington was born at home.  Her parents refused to file for a birth certificate, or a social security number.  She was home schooled, and never needed medical care.  There is no official record of this girl.  Her attempts to file for a delayed birth certificate were denied, because the judge said there wasn't enough evidence she was born to US citizens on US soil, and her parents refuse to testify to their citizenship...or hers. 

In my honest opinion, this smacks of a nearly perfect attempt to control the girl.  She isn't able to get a job, much less do anything else that even an illegal immigrant does as a matter of course, because everyone knows she's American but she can't prove it officially.   

I think her parents ought to be jailed until they cooperate, and any children still in their home need to be removed and processed for identification so that they cannot do this to another one of their kids. 

No, I'm not against home births (though I think the people who opt for them are gambling the life of both mother and baby, with how fast things can go critically wrong), nor am I against homeschooling.  What's gotten my back up in this case is that the parents are purposefully and maliciously crippling their daughter's chances at creating a successful life away from them. 

That's the way to do it.

If the police want to regain their old reputation of being public servants, and keep the populace cooperative instead of having everyone, rather than just thugs, refuse to be friendly and courteous much less cooperate, they need to follow this guy's example:

One of the first things Magnus did when he took over was to disband the department's "street teams," units of heavily armed officers deployed in high-crime areas.

The teams stopped "everything that moved," Richmond Police Capt. Mark Gagan said, in hopes of finding suspects with warrants or carrying small amounts of illegal drugs. ...many in the community perceived the aggressive street teams as an occupying army.*

Magnus also eliminated the seniority system that allowed officers to choose the areas they would patrol. He required officers to take on more responsibilities on their beats beyond responding to calls. Beat officers are required to attend neighborhood meetings and to maintain a high profile at churches, schools and businesses. They're encouraged to hand out their mobile phone numbers and email addresses to residents.

What he's doing is working.  Crime of all types has plummeted, and citizen cooperation--in a city that's 1/3 black, 1/3 hispanic, and 1/3 white--is skyrocketing.

I am not surprised it's working.  I live in a small town in the Midwest, and I've seen anti-cop sentiment skyrocketing as the cops get more belligerent, confrontational, and self-isolating.  They're not acting like soldiers--not ours, at least, since ours are trying to win the hearts and minds of the nations they're occupying in the attempt to aid.  No, the police around here are acting like the Nazi occupation did, in areas they suspected people of aiding the Jews.

In the town where I grew up, on the other hand, we had two cops.  They tended to get bored and lonely while they were patrolling, and go to wherever people were gathered, and just hang out.  Everyone knew them, everyone liked them, and everyone...cooperated.  Even the local pot grower/dealer (and yes, they did know he did that...and didn't care because...) tended to let them know who was making meth, and where.  Everyone trusted them to do the right thing, and not to go shooting people's pets...or the people who they were supposed to be protecting.

People cooperate with their neighbors.  No one with any amount of self-respect is going to cooperate with an occupying enemy army that acts like jackbooted thugs.  And Chief Magnus gets that.

Unfortunately, very few other departments or chiefs do. 

*emphasis mine

Well. That's done.

I picked up papers last Friday (and will again, next Friday).  I graded one class's papers over the weekend, and half of the other class's on Monday...and then, I got hit with a mild migraine.  Which stuck around through Wednesday.

I just finished grading papers a bit ago.  Now?  Since I've gotta be up and moving no later than 6:30 a.m. to get the kids up, dressed, and fed, before getting myself ready...now, it's time for bed.

'Night, y'all.

Pretty sure the "I didn't mean it like that" defense didn't work for Edward II.

Back in the early middle ages, a king appointed one of his courtiers to the office of Archbishop of Canterbury.  He assumed that his man would represent the interests of the crown rather than that of the Church. 

It backfired spectacularly.  Thomas Becket was ordained, and began representing the interests of the Church, which pissed off the king...to the point where Becket fled to the Continent for a few years.  Once he returned, during the reign of the following king (who broke tradition and was crowned elsewhere--a bad sign), things got worse: the king, Edward II, said something along the lines of "Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?"  The exact wording is under dispute, but what happened was that four knights, freshly returned from the Crusades, decided that this was a Royal Command, and went to confront Becket.  And then, they murdered him in the cathedral. 

Three years later, he was canonized.  No, the king wasn't directly punished, but that was pretty much a slap in the face, a "we don't believe you didn't mean it" from Rome. 

I see shades of that happening in San Diego, now.  San Diego has passed an anti-gang law that states that even those inciting gang violence, knowingly or unknowingly, or profiting from it in some way, are liable as conspirators.  And now, they've arrested a rapper--Brandon Duncan, aka Tiny Doo--under said law.  He faces prison for life with all of the charges laid against him.

The ACLU are protecting him, stating that he has a right to rap about whatever he wants--that the first amendment protects him and his art. 

I can, on the one hand, see their point. 

On the other hand, Duncan's defense strikes me as a cross between that of Edward II who implied that he wanted the Archbishop of Canterbury murdered, and that of the type of idiot that screams "fire!" in a crowded theater, then tries claiming that it was his right under the freedom of speech. 

Pretty much all of the gangsta rappers tend to incite violence, crime, and rioting.  Why shouldn't they be prosecuted under similar laws that normal people inciting riots are prosecuted under?

One down, one to go.

I finished grading the papers for my 8:00 a.m. class, last night.  Twenty-four students per class times two classes means 48 papers.  I'm down to one class, just 24 papers to go.  Twelve tonight, and twelve tomorrow night means I can hand papers back on Wednesday.

Unfortunately, I don't get to rely on my usual crutch, this time: my printer ran out of toner, which means no rubrics until I get a new toner cartridge...which should be arriving sometime Wednesday. 

So.  The plan is to grade twelve papers tonight, starting with the ones turned in on the course site platform.