Earbug of the day. Jomanda, “Got A Love For You” from 1991.
The One In The Rain.
So it has been raining since yesterday afternoon. And I’m not talking about a mere shower here and there; I’m talking about a steady, soaking rain. Last night I almost had to pull over to the side of the road and wait for a passing downpour to do its thing on a couple of occasions during the ride home, but I usually don’t do that sort of thing, I tend to drive into the middle of storms and make sounds of elation.
Folks have talked about how mild last winter was (we barely got enough snow to say so) and now they realise that this is the price we pay for it. This is the snow we were suppose to get, it’s just a little bit late. Mother Nature always wins.
At least we won’t be in a draught conditions anytime soon.
The rain isn’t bothering me all that much. The only nature related thing that has bothered me in the past week or so is that our lilac bush didn’t produce that many flowers this year. I don’t know if the late frost in April put a damper on it or what, but the tree that is usually covered in lilacs only produce a few displays here are there on the tree. The ones that did appear smell and look beautiful, though, so I can’t complain. The lilac is my favorite flower. It makes me think of my Grandma City.
I think the constant rain has put a damper on the mood at work a little bit, but I’m feeling more like my sunny self today. Making forward progress on work projects is more than important to me, it is exciting to me. It’s important to have excitement in my life. It’s just the way I’m wired.
The Ostrich On Her Head.
Some days you just have to grin and bear it. Thank the gods that Monday is almost to a close.
The One With The Pictures.
So Earl and I went on a drive on Saturday. Because we both drive the Thruway on a daily basis, it was our mission to travel the Empire State without driving on “New York’s Main Street”. I’m not a fan of the Thruway. It’s not very scenic.
We ended up driving along Lake Ontario between the port city of Oswego and the bigger city of Rochester. I tried following Old Route 104 for a while…
… (U S 104 hasn’t existed since 1972 or so) but I got distracted and ended up driving Route 14 to Sodus Point, which I didn’t even know existed. From there, we drove along the Lake Ontario shoreline along the appropriately named Lake Road. What a pretty drive! I was so busy driving that I didn’t take any photos.
We hit the always popular Eastview Mall to stretch our legs and grab an iced tea at Starbucks. It was busy with a bunch of young girls making clucking and clattering noises.
I don’t particularly enjoy the clucking and clattering. After the iced tea and walking the mall, we ended up at Dinosaur BBQ in downtown Rochester, where we were repeatedly asked where the hostess stand was while we waited for our turn to be seated.
Once we were seated and we met the lovely server named Jennifer (she completely rocked), Earl and I looked over the menu. Earl needed an assist…
… yay for the flashlight app on his iPhone!
On the way out of the restaurant I took a photo of the Genesee River simply because I could.
And from there we headed home the back way. There was much rejoicing.
The next day, Earl made a “small salad” for lunch…
… and then later in the day we visited with my Mom for Mother’s Day, which was a wonderful experience.
and then on the way home I took a picture of a set of powerlines because I’ve stared at these powerlines along Interstate 81 since I was a very young tyke. And besides, I’m geeky enough to take photos of powerlines on a regular basis, now that we don’t have to pay for film and all.
Repost: Happy Mothers’ Day
Originally posted in 2005, this sums it all up perfectly!
~~~~~
She’s a little whacky. She hears her own drumbeat. All the kids in school wanted her as a chaperone, because she was the cool mom. When we were kids, she could rattle dishes in a two-mile radius when she said “no”. She was and is always there to listen. She’s always has accepted me as I am, regardless of my age. Yeah, she’s pretty neat. Happy Mothers’ Day, Mom.
The One About The Sunset.
Right before I woke up this morning I was dreaming about climbing a mountain so I could catch a spectacular shot of a gorgeous sunset with my iPhone. I couldn’t get the picture I wanted from wherever I was standing, so I climbed up on a cliff, where there were a lots of people waiting to get the same shot. I remember thinking the sunset was beautiful. I woke up smiling.
This weekend’s mission is to climb up on a mountain or cliff and grab a beautiful photo of the sunset with my iPhone. I’ll be sure to share with the class when the mission is accomplished.
The One About.
So last night the surf was up on the Internet and I was bombing around from site to site, app to app doing nothing constructive. This usually leads me to YouTube where I watch something that will make me smile. The chosen videos usually have to do with old television shows; I find it a hoot to watch veteran actress Reta Shaw throw herself between Majors Nelson and Healey and scream “Dominate me, boys! I’ve always wanted to be dominated!”
Anyways, somewhere along the way I found a quiz to test for ADHD. Now, I’ve been tested for ADHD before and I’ve always passed with flying colors, so I was interested to see what this little internet gem was going to determine of me. Luckily, there were only six multiple choice questions, so I was able to focus long enough to determine that “ADHD may be likely.”
Well, duh.
The thing about ADHD is that it kind of falls into that whole label thing, where I don’t want to be a person labeled with ADHD. I just like to thing that these tendencies of mine are just part of that big label called “Me” and I am quite comfortable with that. I can deal with the rest of the stuff. I know what distracts me. I know when I’m going to get stuff done and when I’m not and I adjust my schedule and deadlines accordingly. Earl learned very early on about the way I tick and he’s always been patient. There are still a few areas of my life where I could make a sizable adjustment so I could be more productive and less ADHD like, but for the most part I’m getting through just fine and that’s alright by me. I don’t need a chemical assist to keep things on track. I wish others could be as lucky.
Heh, I have to admit that I was distracted and forgot what this paragraph was going to be. Well, that happens sometimes.
The Expression of Disappointment.
I suck at debating about politics. I suck at writing about politics, too. I freely admit this. I tend to get red-faced and people tell me that I’m yelling whenever the subject of politics comes up. When I write on the subject I tend to write irrational things. My synapses don’t connect well enough for me to convey my words and they end up sounding half-baked and idiotic.
That being said, what the fuck is wrong with you people in North Carolina?
For those that don’t follow the news, yesterday the fine citizens of North Carolina voted an amendment to their constitution banning same sex marriage, civil unions and domestic partnerships. In laymen’s terms, it is now illegal to marry someone of the same sex in North Carolina but it is still perfectly legal to marry your first cousin, as long as it’s not your gay first cousin. This new amendment passed by around 70%. The hopes of thousands of loving gay couples across the state are now dashed and they can not affirm their loving commitment to one another because a bunch of bigots voted on their equality. One has to remember that until 1971, North Carolina had a law on the books banning interracial marriage.
I’m really disappointed by this turn of events in the fight for equality but there’s a part of me that isn’t surprised. This is where the irrational words come to mind. I want to write things like “and their BBQ sucks!” and “I can’t wait to see what the hurricanes do to the god fearing citizens down there.” But other than childish outbursts of emotion, these words really serve no purpose, though I must admit that I am happy that I wrote them down. I am still a kid at heart, I guess.
I guess it just bothers me that this thing is still such a hot topic, still up for debate and that people still have their head shoved so far up a collective ass that they feel they need to spread such hate through legislation. That is what they’re doing, you know. They’re legislating hate. They are trying to redefine love to a very small definition. These folks don’t have the ability to think for themselves, so they cherry pick a few verses out of a very old book, spin them to their liking and then decree that everyone must follow this watered down formula. I think one of the greatest gifts from God is free will. It’s a shame that so few choose to use it.
I know that one of the happiest moments in my life was walking into the banquet room on October 13, 2011 and seeing all the love and support from our families and friends as Earl and I prepared to take a marital vows. That was love, right there, in that moment. It was love between Earl and me, it was love from our family and friends. I’ve mentioned a few times that I didn’t think that getting legally married would make a difference in my life, after all, Earl and I had been together for over 15 years at the time, but the truth of the matter is, it means a great deal to me to introduce Earl as my husband. When Earl was in Urgent Care a few months ago, I couldn’t get in to see him until I told the desk attendant that we were married. I can’t fathom being denied access to my soul mate when he is in need, simply because someone decided that we can’t be married. For this, I am grateful that we live in the Empire State. If someone were to take this right away from us, we would look to relocate elsewhere.
I said that I’m not good at debating and I’m not good at writing about politics. I know that when I woke up this morning and saw the vote results, I wanted to stay in bed and pull the covers over my head. Though it has absolutely no bearing on my marriage, it affects thousands of couples just like us. And that makes me very sad. It makes me fearful for the direction of our society. It makes me realise that there are many that a desperately trying to go backwards in time, to a place that never really existed.
The growing fight to move forward continues.
The Substitution Situation Tenacity.
The other night I had a dream that involved, among many other odd things, my eighth grade music teacher and choral director. Now, I haven’t thought about this person in a good many years so I am at a loss as to why she suddenly appeared in my dream on Friday night, but there she was. This got me to thinking about her. The last time I saw her was after my last performance as Mr. Whitney in the musical “Anything Goes” during my senior year of high school. Somehow I had managed to get the three music teachers that I had during my high school years together in the same room and back then I thought that was kind of neat.
Thinking about this teacher reminded me of the few days I had as an introduction to student teaching when I studying music education at SUNY Fredonia right after high school. I’ll never forgot the feeling that I had when I stood in front of a room full of seventh and eighth graders at Cassadaga Valley. I perceived them as hostile, though in retrospect I didn’t really have a reason to think this way as I was only going to be around for a day or two. But it was right then and there that I knew that teaching junior high students was not going to be in my future.
Back to the teacher from my dream.
At my hometown one moved from the “little school” (K-6) to the high school (7-12, actually Junior-Senior High School). At the high school we were all mingled together, there was no separation by floor or wing. When I entered the high school at 7th grade, the choral and music teacher was a well-liked woman who was kind of built like a tank with an attitude to match. She was very popular, always had command of the room and a very talented woman. An definite alto, she could easily fill a room with her voice. I’d enjoy crossing paths with Miss Whitney again.
This favorite teacher decided to take a year sabbatical to pursue a degree in school administration. The school granted her the year off and for my eighth grade year, they hired a brand new, just out-of-college teacher to handle the music classes and choral duties for the year. Miss Moonan was somewhat soft-spoken and as a soprano she had a beautiful voice. She had a decidedly different way of teaching and handling the chorus. Since everyone in town knew everyone’s business, everyone knew that Miss Whitney would be back the following year, so essentially Miss Moonan was a substitute teacher for a whole year.
Now let’s think about that. Think about the horrid things that have been done, both in fiction and in real life, to substitute teachers. I vividly remember an English substitute teacher sitting in a corner, nearly in a fetal position because all hell had broken loose in the classroom to the point that the movable partitions between that separate the room from the adjoining classroom had started falling down. I remember another completely losing her breath and fleeing the room because someone had poured a bottle of cheap perfume in the ventilation system. I don’t even want to talk about the Home Economics incident when the microwave caught fire under a substitute teacher’s watch. Being a substitute teacher is a horrid position for those that are not built Ford tough.
I really think some wanted Miss Moonan to fail. I know that many classmates wanted her to fail. What did they have to lose, after all, Miss Whitney would be back the next year. Folks from the village came to the school musical (it was “Oklahoma” that year) hoping for a catastrophe. But there was none. The musical was wonderful, and while the chosen favorites may not have been in staring roles that year, the show went on. I have to hand it to her, Miss Moonan stuck it through and though students did their best to make her life miserable, she didn’t flee, she did her job to the best of her ability and she even continued her teaching career (albeit opting to move to the elementary school level). I believe she is still teaching today.
So I guess I dreamed about Miss Moonan the other night because I admired her for her tenacity. She stuck it through when the chips were stacked against her. And I admire that in a person. It’s a trait that I strive to find in myself. Stick it through and do what you got to do. I should have remembered that back in college. Perhaps I needed that reminder, the other night.
Thanks, Miss Moonan.
The Whirring Blades Satisfaction.
For the past couple of years, Earl and I have had a lawn service doing the mowing and the landscaping around The Manor. The reason for this is two-fold: 1. we are very busy people with our work lives and 2. I’m lazy.
Now I enjoy spending time outdoors but I have remarked in the past that I would rather push the snowblower up and down the driveway in lieu of driving the lawn mower around in circles so when given the choice of paying a service for either, we opted for lawn care. Earl made a call in the mid part of last week to see if they were available to take care of our lawn again this season and they answered in the affirmative.
As of Saturday the lawn service had not come to take care of the lawn and it was looking wicked shabby. Now, I’m not one that has to have a perfectly manicured lawn, but having a presentable lawn is important to me so it started bugging me a little bit when Tom (the cat) went out into the back lawn and all we could see was the tip of his tail. Luckily, his tendency to use his tail as a compass gave us the luxury to know which direction he was headed. I thought I saw the tips of his ears for a moment, but that was just wishful thinking. When he finally made his way back to the back patio, he gave me a dirty look.
I knew it was time to do something about the lawn.
I hauled the riding mower into the garage so I could get it going and I felt a certain amount of satisfaction when I could get the mower to make noises. It is on the battery charger as we speak and I am hopeful that tonight or tomorrow the lawn mower will be fully functional.
I looked around the garage for the push mower, figuring I could at least get some of the lawn under control using that but I was reminded that we ditched that wretched piece of machinery a few years ago. (I swear the wheels were from a shopping cart because they all wanted to go in a different direction. We were the only folks on the block that had a lawn with zig-zagging stripes.)
Earl and Jamie went out and bought us a new mower, which was assembled and put to good use. I felt great satisfaction as I pushed the mower all around the house, taming the lawn in the process. I was quite pleased with myself and it felt good to be doing something other than staring at a computer screen.
This morning Earl notified me via email that the lawn service was out finishing up what I hadn’t tackled yet with my new found piece of machinery.
I have to admit, my first reaction was “bummer”.
Now the lawn service was doing what we asked them to do, but we have decided that they’re only going to do it this month and then we are going to tell them that their services are no longer required. We want to make sure that the riding mower is actually going to start up as planned and then I will take on the taming of the lawn myself. It’s something that I really want to do. I have decided that this is an indicator that I am starting to approach middle age and that in a few years time I will probably be one of those annoying neighbors that mow three times a week, each time at 6 a.m.
It’s good to have something to look forward to.
