Sunday, September 28, 2008

Major Overhaul

This weekend has been preordained as the Great Overhaul since Memorial Day when The Queen Mum's family was up from DC for a visit. The Fabulous Antie Steph (above) it turns out is a world class organizer and volunteered her services for a weekend. She arrived before I got home from work on Friday and the mayhem commenced.

Not being attached to any of our stuff, she was able to completely disassemble a room, toss a bunch of stuff and get us headed in the right direction. I'm sure everyone can identify with that feeling that it would be so easy to get the house straightened out if only there was a starting point. Take it from me, you need a ringer, an outsider who can come in with a fresh perspective. It doesn't hurt to have several extra people on hand to help with the short folk either.

My part was mostly to shuffle furniture around. This isn't such a big deal in that moving heavy stuff around is a part of my daily routine anyway. I'm still getting used to changing the house around though. In my family, the couch sits where it sits because that is where the couch has always sat. The Missus' family will get up on a commercial break, rearrange the living room and sit back down to watch the end of Jeopardy. I used to try and help figure things out but found that it goes much better if I just do the moving. Here you can see the living room with most of the furniture we own crammed over to one side.

Auntie Steph (she's our children's aunt by the way, not ours) came bearing gifts. Well, not actually bearing them, but our Christmas present from Duke Josh and Auntie Steph was to be a computer desk. Part of her master plan included some space in the house for just The Missus and me. It wound up being the front room, which had been the Dayton dining room since the Forties, and then most recently a dumping ground for Fisher Price playroom.

So, after an afternoon spent blessedly involved with a carpentry project in the driveway, I got to spend the time after the short people went to bed at various shopping centers with the ladies, picking out our Christmas present. Auntie Steph was thinking of something tall that could go in a corner. The only one that I liked was all glass and steel, totally not a piece that I thought The Missus would like. It turned out that she did until we caught sight of the Computer Armoir (Insert Heavenly Chorus singing here). What a lovely little bit o' design that thing is. Everything in its place and two doors that can hide it all away. Brilliant

The carpentry project that had filled the earlier part of my day was some lockers for the kids stuff. A big sucky spot at my house is around the front door. We've tried all sorts of things, but it always winds up jammed with outerwear, mail and whatnot, no matter what we do. Miss O has a neat-o locker at school, and J-Man a little cubby that he loves. So I scooted to the lumber yard and whipped up two sets of lockers. Right now they're in opposite corners, but they can stack up if need be. I project the next great restructuring to happen about ten o'clock next summer, we'll see where they wind up.

I missed out on the short people's reaction. Apparently there was intense cheering on the part of the two school aged kids. The baby joined in because well, he's a follower at this point, it's all he's got. So those were a big hit and totally worth finishing with a flashlight strapped to my head while the moon rose over my table saw.

Now we're nearly at the end of it. Everybody's tired and stressed out. The kids seem pretty enthused, but really their lives have been upside down as we shuffled them around all weekend. The cats are totally pissed at us. But the ladies are two rooms away from the finish line, and I've only got a little bit of carpentry left to do. In another day or two it'll be like living in a new house again. Then all we have to do is figure out how to keep it that way. Probably the thought of Auntie Steph sobbing if she saw the place a wreck again at Christmas will do it.

Man, I'm beat... g'nite.


Friday, September 26, 2008

Night Off

I'm taking the night off tonight to watch the debate and eat popcorn with The Missus. I've also been writing stuff at Simple Terms, which Blogger has not been indicating in the sidebar. If you're starving for blog goodness, check out thatgirl, who just finished a three episode monster of a post that will change your life. Start with this one and work your way up. Jill over at The Daniels 5 is always a good read too. See you on the other side of a major overhaul of the house this weekend.


Thursday, September 25, 2008

How They Change

So far the changes that I've seen in my children have been good ones. Learning to speak, learning to walk, learning to relieve themselves with little or no help, ya know... progress. Sure, we miss their little quirks of speech that disappear as they get the hang of things, but it's not such a big deal, we're watching history in the making.

Friends with children in already in school had told us that it changes your little darlings. That was Worry No. 1 for The Queen Mum. How could this be though? Nursery school was such a good experience for our little Bugga. So much so that J-Man couldn't wait to go. But... they were right. After the initial shock of it all wore off, and the sensory overload slowly evolved into a set of coping skills, our little girl turned into, well... a little girl.

Before, she was this abstract construct made up of bits of The Missus and myself, mixed well and rendered with her own sweetness as the glue that held it all together. A tom-boy that would only wear dresses who lived in a world inhabited by characters from books and movies.

Now, she's already become a product of pop culture. I was flipping through a catalog with her at bedtime tonight and her reactions to everything were either:


And every reaction was followed by that superlatively annoying "right?" that all the young people put at the end of their sentences these days. It's all I can do to keep my transmission from slipping into Crumudgeon. (which is sort of like sitting in park with a talk radio station on and door checking people that annoy you)

"I dunno, Sweetie? Is it sweet?"

I suppose I shouldn't begrudge her the love of popular culture. Mine has served me well. It's not everybody my age that can toss out a quote from Andy Griffith to gain the approval of people decades older than myself. I think mostly it was when she saw a pink inflatable guitar and said, "Hey COOL! A Hanna Montana guitar!" Yeeeeeesh! I threw up in my mouth a little.

Ah well, life's no fun if you're not a part of the herd at that age.

Dear Miss O,
Please feel free to ditch the herd at the very first inkling that you want to do so. I don't know what the equivalent of green hair and Dead Kennedys pins will be for your generation, but feel free to embrace it. Grama and Grampa were pretty strict with Uncle Juior and me. They tried to keep us looking respectable. They wanted only pleasant sounds to issue from our speakers. So what did we do? Drugs. Lots of drugs. All I wanted was a stinkin Metallica t-shirt, but drugs were way easier to hide so I did that instead.

If Hanna Montana makes you happy then by all means, be a fan. I'll buy the crap for you, you can croon away to all her hit songs. I can always go in the shop and blast Anthrax until I feel right again. But don't you ever stay with the herd if you feel like doing something else. Those swine will trample you the first chance they get. And if you get away from them, they'll continue to squeal at you because they'll be intensely jealous of your enjoyment of non-herd-sanctioned culture.

Just make sure that you do whatever it is you want to do with your life. Flipping the bird is totally allowed if you're flipping off the herd. All my favorite people in this world are decidedly non-herd. It's totally OK to cut the fence and see what's out there in the woods. I'll loan you the cutters. I'll welcome the day you opt for (insert modern equivalent of green hair and Dead Kennedys pins) because really, except for shrooms drugs aren't worth it.

Be your own self. Because your own self is so heart-wrenchingly beautiful that I tear up to even think of it.


Monday, September 22, 2008

Hey You! Remember Me?

I'm totally biting on the running theme from thatgirl's blog. It's the one right over there on the sidebar from which I stole the title of this post. You should totally click over there after you read this to see how reliving one's adolescence online is properly done. If Sam from Quantum Leap jumped into Eminem as a teenager (and Eminem was a girl) it would be something like what her posts are like. Except that she's not all that interested in rap that I'm aware of and, oh yeah, she turned out all right. But she's got this way of dealing with all the crap she lived through and looking at it with the eye of experience that makes me aspire to better writing myself, so here goes...

Hey you! Remember Me? Yeah you, Jim. (name changed to protect the idiot innocent) Remember walking into eighth grade art class and knocking me off my stool every day for a year? I remember how not even detention and failing the class were enough to deter you from your self-appointed rounds. I do have to hand you that one thing, you were the model of consistancy on that.

There's probably nothing in your experience that would be similar to my delight at finding out on the first day of ninth grade that you had moved away. There was no need to inquire why, who the fuck cared? It shortened the list of people actively out to get me by approximately three percent, and that made for a pretty good first day.

Time Warp...

On the first day of eleventh grade you were back. The very first time I passed you in the hall by the science room you let out some smarmy little comment like, "Hey fag! I'm back... miss me?" I saw your hand start to snake out for what I'm sure you thought would be an easy book spill, a nice way to slide back into the bully routine at old ACS. What you hadn't anticipated was that during the previous two years, while you had been sneaking smokes and attempting to get beer, I had been running, swimming, cycling and eating... the whole twenty-four months. I'm sure in your eyes I was still four inches shorter than you and just waiting to be pushed around.

Well, it was your eyes that gave you away for the pathetic looser I knew you to be when you found yourself pressed up against a locker with your toes just touching the terrazo and still looking up at me. Quite a surprise to find out that the little pipsqueak you planned on pushing around was now two inches taller than you and apparently composed of 150 pounds of stainless steel wrapped in leather.

With my left hand still cradling my un-spilled books and my right hand pinning you to the lockers by your collar bones (because if I had actually choked you I might get in trouble, but going just below the throat meant that the two teachers likely to witness the event (my swim coach and a Viet Nam vet that thought you were a piece of shit anyway) would likely look the other way and grin) Nesting parenthesis, ka-chow! where was I... oh yeah, pinned to the lockers by your collar bones I was surprised at how insubstantial you were. It felt like I was holding a duffle bag full of gym clothes against the wall and not my former nemesis. After the split second that it took those thoughts to ricochet around my cranium I delivered my line, "Welcome back, Jim. Miss me?!" One of the few times in my life I've actually delivered a good line in the thick of things.

I didn't see too much of you after that. Not surprising. Even if you had managed to delude yourself into thinking that I wouldn't be much of a physical threat, the magic was gone. I had learned that I could defuse many a bully simply by inviting their attacks. Threaten to kick my ass for no reason? Receive an open invite, complete with closed eyes and raised chin. That chin never took hit one because you're all alike, complete chicken-shit losers. After that you must have been keeping an eye out for me because I don't think I ever witnessed you harassing anyone else.

Later that year I found myself at your door while hawking goods to raise money for the band trip or some such thing. At that point I got it. What a sty you had to live in. The empty bottles, full diapers, smoke and trash and the accompanying smell. I can only imagine the way you were treated by your sorry excuses for parents, most likely your mom and a step-dad. I didn't excuse you for any of your actions after that glimpse, but I started to get how you got like that.

So now Miss O is having her first encounters with your type in her kindergarten class. The Missus and I are already arming her with all our time tested methods. If any of your progeny run across our little girl, you're likely going to get asked what some particular phrase means over dinner some night. Our little angel has a writing staff at home, with decades of biting sarcasm on tap. Parents of bullies are going to have to explain to their children how badly they've been mocked and made fools of, and all without our little lady receiving the slightest bit of negative attention from the teacher. You and your type can threaten, but you'll never win.

P.S. Hope that whole fat, bald, alcoholic in a dead end job thing is working out for you Jim, you earned it buddy.


Sunday, September 21, 2008

Weekend Warrior

I spent the weekend mixing an event for the Salvation Army, you can read about it on my other blog Simple Terms. Blogger is still not updating my posts from that blog in the side bar so please feel free to make use of this hand-coded link.

A real big bonus of working this gig is that it's at a camp on the shores of Keuka Lake. Also on the shores of Keuka Lake is a cottage owned by my aunt and uncle. My family had the use of it for the weekend, so during a lull on Saturday I left my assistant in charge and scooted down to Hammondsport for a visit.

My darling wife had transported three... energetic children there allbyherveryownself and was exhausted. I had lunch with them at the picnic table and then sent her off for a nap. I chased the baby around for a while and then plopped him down for a nap too. Grama and Grampa were along for the ride and mentioned at that point that they'd be happy to get the big ones down for their naps and that I should just enjoy myself for the time I had. I slumped in an adirondack chair and watched the two remaining children splash around in the frigid water. At some point Grama woke me to see if I needed to be getting back. I did, but what a pleasant couple of hours that was.

The rest of the gig went off without a hitch and I arrived home to meet some worn out kiddos on my front walk. The jump from road warrior to family man was seamless and even mostly painless. The kids were too tired to do their usual welcome home act so I avoided three headbutts to the crotch high impact hugs and instead spent a nice hour or two snuggling them into bed. It was nice to get to go be a grown up by myself, but I spent all weekend talking about them and showing off pictures.

And now, feeling warm and fuzzy, I have posted my long overdue updates for my friends on the interweb, and I'll be toddling off to be hours before midnight. That has not occurred for far too long. Hope your weekend logged you some hours of quality time too. See you in the details.


Monday, September 15, 2008

Almost Out Of The Woods

I don't know why I keep posting about my job over here instead of on Simple Terms which is where the non-daddy-type-stuff goes but whatever. I got the call from the hospital today in which they formally offered me the job. I accepted and they told me what my pay will be which is a significant increase from what I'm making now. I went in and signed enough paperwork to make me think that I will probably be getting a visit from the folks at Green Peace. I can't start work until I've had orientation and a physical which happen tomorrow and the next day, but I'm already accruing sick leave and vacation time. (!) Thanks to everyone who said a prayer for me. It totally worked.


Sunday, September 14, 2008

Missing Content

I'm still a little annoyed that the widget on the side over there isn't updating the content from my other blog. All the other blogs on the list are showing their most recent post, but mine is still listing one from weeks ago that has actually been deleted. Whatever. Here's a list of the rest of the stuff I've written since "Take This Job And..." was posted last month over at Simple Terms. I'm particularly proud of the highly technical research and development project we took on one night and then handed off to Steve Jobs in the post about the new product from Apple.

Sep 2008 (7) Aug 2008 (6)


Saturday, September 13, 2008

What A Morning

Today my children woke me gently at eight o'clock. Then they went downstairs to watch a DVD. I finished baking up the sweet rolls The Missus made last night and served them hot in front of our favorite cartoons. The short people watched another one they like while I played Facebook. They've all been playing nicely together for three hours now with only two brief crying incidents. Is this my house? Are these my kids? Or is this just what it's always like when everybody is well rested?


Thursday, September 11, 2008


I'm going to make this as quick as possible cause there's a lot of looking things up and posting links and comments and stuff that goes along with this game. This is a meme, which for those of you who don't know is pronounced "meem" and roughly translated means: write down stuff about yourself and send it to folks you know. This one was sent to me by thatgirl, who's blog totally kicks ass and you should check it every day to see if she's posted another mind blowing episode

The rules for this Meme are:

1. Link the person who tagged you. check, see above
2. Mention the rules on your blog. check, see right here
3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours. check, gettin right on that
4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them. uh... check, not sure I can come up with that many but OK.
5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged bloggers letting them know they’ve been tagged. check, that was a lot of work though.

Q1: I sorely miss the smell of new pencils in the fall. Everything else about school I could pretty much forget about with no trouble what so ever. What was I just talking about?

Q2: People talk about getting a song stuck in their head, I didn't realize there were people for whom that was an intermittent condition.

Q3: I wear work clothes to church on purpose a lot of the time. Most people don't even notice because The Viking is usually wearing his Mortal Treason shirt which with it's mohawk-ed skeleton is a lot more distracting than my faded cargo shorts and Guinness shrit (which I wore the day I formally joined the church by the way).

Q4: I frequently make typing mistakes when writing by hand. Eg. the "A" and the "S" are next to each other on the keyboard, I will interchange them in a hand written note. That speaks volumes about the condition of the wiring in my skill and likely also why people want to pay me lots of money to mix their shows for them, it takes an odd sort to be good at it.

Q5: It is a supreme act of will power on my part not to pick up one of everything that lines the check outs when I go shopping. Now that I go shopping with my short people this extends my phenomenal feat to include three people with no will power what so ever.

Q6: I have to constantly remind myself that peoples perceptions of me are off. Everyone things because I'm tall I can eat a horse and I get served huge portions at other peoples houses. Everyone thinks that because I'm at all the shows I'm really into the scene and want to have long conversations about it, or long conversations in general. Everyone thinks that because I'm skinny I'm athletic, not really, I just want to sit down.

There's mine, now I'm going to tip off several friends and watch the mayhem.

Let's start by tapping Jill over at The Daniels 5

Then tag Uncle Benna at

Hit up the good folks at Team Dudgeon

Send some blog love Amalthea's way

Bring SuperJew into the mix

And last but not least, Green Panda... come on down.


Tuesday, September 9, 2008

No really, I'm good at this.

I was taking the boys out for a quick (10 minutes before bedtime) trip to the little playground at church. The parking lot has just been re-paved and is a haven for youth of all ages. Tonight there were two young punks perfecting their skate tricks. J-Man got there first and said, "Hey! Nice trick!" when one of them landed on his ass. The other one said, "Thanks" and then they began studiously ignoring him. By the time I got close he was shouting BOO at them and looking for things to throw. I pointed him toward the playground and said, "Huh, I didn't know it was still cool to skate." Just to let them know that I too was once a terror of the asphalt and know what it means to shred... except they don't call it that anymore.

Not that I was particularly good at it way back in the day. Junior was real good at it back then, some of the guys he used to skate with are still out there winning competitions. I could just about string three tricks together on a good day, then my knees got too bad for it. But, I digress.

The great thing was to watch them "land" a trick. I use quotes there because what qualified as landing one was not what you would normally think of as being successful. It started out with a burst of speed on foot, charging across the lot. Then jumping on the board and paddling wildly like a back stroker to stay on. When the board slowed to a creep they would crouch way down, one of them would kind of paddle the ground with his hands. Then at the moment when it would require sophisticated measuring equipment to tell if they were still moving, they'd spring in the air, the board would flip over and if it landed on the wheels they would shout, "PERFECT!!!" whether they landed sideways and fell on their ass or not.

Suddenly I was back in my parents' living room wearing out the VCR backing up clips of Sean Sheffey. He would land these tremendous airs. He'd jump a fence or picnic table or something and just be up there all afternoon. Then at the very last second he'd throw in a little DE-lay shuvit just to let you know it was nothin. Or watch Mike Carroll land every trick in the book on a nose manual. And Rodney Mullen... words fail, I'm gettin all choked up here. Kids playing Tony Hawk on their PlayStations wish they could land that many tricks in a row. That's what kept us in parking lots till we were bruised and broken. We were trying to get to that place where we could glide around and make our boards do ballet with the ease that most people exhibit while leaning on a lamp post. Ah to be young and have time to waste again.

I found part of one of the Plan B vids we used to watch. Check this guy out. The track from Fu Schnickens is worth a click anyway. That part I was talking about is about 45 seconds in. He clears that fence and table and then right before he lands it (pop) little shuvit. Yeah... like nuttin.


Sunday, September 7, 2008

Final Chapter?

To begin, Blogger is still not showing updates from my other blog in the side bar. I've been posting over there as well so if you've been peering at the side bar wondering why "Take This Job and..." is still listed as the most recent post, it's not. Simple Terms is awash in recent posts that I hope you will take a look at and leave clever comments, because nothing says "validation" like snappy comments from readers. On to the job saga:

I'm not sure if this is the end of the job saga or what. Things have finally come to a point where nearly everyone is happy. The folks at the hospital seem really happy. My future boss has said he would put my stuff through to the HR people and that they will call me soon to formally offer me the job, providing they are satisfied with my criminal record, etc. Then I get to do a drug test and fill out a bunch of paperwork and then I guess I have a job. Since I am not a criminal, don't use drugs and know how to write, this should all be pretty easy.

After a week of angry phone calls from my former boss which I mostly didn't answer, and also a bunch of threats, we finally decided to speak nicely to one another again. Once he realized that there was no amount of pressure or manipulation that was going to work on me the situation stabilized fairly quickly. Now I'm actually back working there until the new job starts. Instead of wiring alone though, I've got several of the crew to help me as the deadline for moving cows in to the barn is fast approaching. Once the front is done, I'll be instructing those guys how to wire the back and stopping in to check their work.

The only person who's not happy in all this is The Missus. She would rather I not have anything at all to do with my former boss. So after I spend all day in what is now still a semi-tense situation, even after all the apologies, I come home to a wife who is still pretty pissed. But, the children are not so stressed about Miss O's new schedule, the house is slowly getting cleaner, and the morning all-day sickness seems to be easing off a bit. It won't be long till I'm wearing the navy blue of United Memorial and finishing my work day at three o'clock.

The kiddos are slipping into their new roles with only a few hitches along the way. Mostly they're just worn out. Miss O is scooting to the head of the class, in no small part due to the fact that she's a teriffic kiss-ass I'm told. That's my girl, if you can't lick em, butter em up. A few quick lessons on working the system and she'll be the queen of the county in no time.

J-Man has also assumed a super hero identity for himself. This usually consists of him donning an orange hard hat, orange glasses, and using his beloved blanket for a cape, all over the top of a blanket sleeper. The first night he made an appearance in this garb he was attempting to rescue Sis from the tragedy of bed time. He appeared at the top of the stairs with legs spread announcing that, "Super Power J-Man will rescue you!" (He doesn't actually say J-Man, he says his name, but maybe it would be even more funny if he did, I'll have to see how he feels about it.) The Missus nearly peed her pants when she heard him say it, I had to advise her not to turn around. When I described his look to her she said it was just the way she had pictured it though.

There's also some politics and some economics and some weather floating around in the world at large, but none of that concerns me. It's Sunday afternoon, the children are subdued, sleeping or watching a movie. The Missus and I are picking away at the debris and all is right with the world.


Thursday, September 4, 2008

Three Week Sentence

Let me lead off by saying that despite what the little widget on the side says about me having not updated Simple Terms in a week, I have. There's some kick ass material over there, including the penultimate chapter in the saga of my job change. All that's left is the formal offer. Now, on to the daddy stuff.

I'm told by all the people who read the best parenting magazines, and my own parents as well, that the severe emotional turmoil that follows after each day of kindergarten will eventually wear off. Obviously, most people don't have memories of sobbing at dinner about school, at least I hope not. My folks said that me and Junior were both total wrecks at the end of the day.

But, it only lasts about three weeks. Not such a bad sentence, for the sobbers or the back patters. I can already see Miss O getting a handle on things and today was only her second day. So hold on parents of kindergarteners. Academia will eventually stop overloading your little dears and they'll start having good days from start to finish... at least until first grade rolls around and they get totally bored with the learning experience. More about home schooling options next time.


Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Enough Drama

OK. Enough of all this drama that's going on at work. There's buckets more of it and it's not doing me any good at all to mull it over one more time in print. Just know that it sucks right now but I expect things to clear up for me shortly. My interview went really well and I'm likely to be formally offered the job on Friday. Also, much love to our good friend Jackie who is missing home somewhat. It's all good, there's no escape from the gravitational pull of Alexander, you just feel it a little more when you're farther away.

Now, we return you to your regularly scheduled blog about daddy type stuff.

Today was Miss O's first day of Kindergarten. I could write a whole post about her departure on the bus this morning, which was surprisingly tear free. But that's pretty lame, you could probably find thirty or forty thousand of those on the web this week. Her return was noteworthy though. Totally expressionless she remarked, "The bus doesn't have air condition."

She had a lot to tell us at dinner. A lot of it had to do with not being the best at everything. It's tough to be a perfectionist with the drive of an olympic athlete and the coping skills of a five year old. After she packed away some special First Day of Kindergarten spaghetti and homemade meatballs, got cleaned up and had a little doll house time with the Queen Mum she felt a lot better and returned to the kitchen for some more late night calories.

Here's where it gets good...

At some point in the day, Miss O and J-Man (who has recently created his own super hero identity, more on that another time) had unloaded the dishwasher for us. Yeah, the silverware drawer was a little messy and the bowls were just stacked on a chair, but...

The. Children. Stopped. Bickering. And. Worked. Together. To. Do. A. Chore. That. Is. Not. Their. Job.

I'm speechless and keyless. I just sat staring at the screen for like, five minutes just basking in the glory of that statement. There's hope folks. Hope for the decline of sibling rivalry. Hope for a cleaner kitchen. Hope for frazzled parents who are pretty much ready to pass out. If fireworks wouldn't be totally inappropriate at this hour of the evening on a non-holiday I would totally be on the phone with the Grucci family right now. There's hope...


Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Day Off

7:15 AM
The is me on my first day of freedom, drinking coffee at an undisclosed location. Calls from work on my phone so far today: just one, and I answered it. I asked another guy to pick up the guy I've been giving a ride to and he wasn't waiting. Then I shut the phone off. I'll be posting all day long, photos of me enjoying my freedom, a running tally of angry phone calls, etc. Thanks to everyone who's been commenting, texting, and especially praying.

8:49 AM
I have started my day comfortably. A cup of coffee at a secure location was just the thing to keep my nerves in check. I'm departing now to run some errands. My truck is seriously neglected so I'm off to get parts and see what kind of a fix I can wrangle. One voicemail from work so far, a non-angry call to see if I had overslept. I had someone else check it for me because I still start to shake when I think about work.

9:54 AM
I saw some adorable children at the farmer's market. We walked around looking at all the produce. Their super cute mother was on hand, she bought me a peach. The Sausage Man was there and said that the pig he's been raising for us is up to a healthy 200 some pounds. We said to keep feeding him for another month, he needs to fill the whole chest freezer, not just tease it.

11:02 AM
The same cute children were spotted at a playground so I stopped in to spend some hang time with em. The equipment got boring so we went to look at the creek and poke at touch-me-nots. There was a loaf of homemade bread and a watermelon on hand, so we had a picnic lunch in the shade. Then some short people were tired and went home for a nap.

1:29 PM
Still no voice-mail on the phone, but got a call to go look at a little electrical job at a church. I stopped in there to find three friends I haven't seen in forever standing in the parking lot. One who was up from Florida always seems to turn up right before he has to head back. Oh, well... one day he'll meet the kids. Speaking of which, time for a couple oil changes while they're napping.

3:13 PM
The middle of the afternoon found me happily engaged in the satisfying task of refreshing the complex hydrocarbons that lubricate the power plants of our vehicles, or... as most people call it: doing an oil change. I have to admit a small amount of trepidation on my part, half expecting to see a silver pickup pull in containing one irate former employer. No such thing took place though and I'm on my way now to do something else pleasant.

7:09 PM
Had dinner with the fam and then toddled off to church to run a presentation for the Happy Agers. Their guest speaker was Charles Kuralt's camera man for decades. I got to sit alone with him for forty-five minutes before he started, going over clips with him telling me about how he was in freezing water in hip waders for this shot and in a tree for that shot. It was awesome. I don't really speak camera man, but sound guy is a close enough dialect for me to have really enjoyed the conversation.

10:47 PM
At home the children were all asleep, suprisingly peacefully for tomorrow being Sis' big day and all. That would be her first day of kindergarten. Oh boy. I think I need to start another post about that. But on the job front, only one further voice mail all day. The former boss left a message in a calm voice for me to please give him a call.

Not bad. I feel like I'm already starting to detox from the whole experience. Already I don't shake when I think about working there anymore. I'm not worried about any of the stuff that was going on there. I've gotten a bunch of nice comments and phone calls from people who care. My interview is tomorrow. I'm going to put my little girl on her first school bus, sob a little, lay some bricks with my best friend and see about opening the door on a new era of my life. See ya there.