Look Out Jay

When Jay Leno retires, for a second time, I think Daniel might be able to take his spot. Here’s his recent jokes for the proof:

D: Knock, Knock, Momma.
S: Who’s there?
D: Joke.
S: Joke who?
D: I need to go to the baaathroooom.

D: Knock, Knock again, Momma.
S: Who’s there?
D: Tree.
S: Tree who?
D: I seeeeee them over there!

And he is even funny without knock, knock jokes:

D: Momma, look, I drew a robot!
S: Wow! That’s just great, Daniel. You draw well!
D: No! Not a whale momma! A robot!
Such a funny fellow!

i ♥ faces- Yellow

This photo is from around my first official Mother’s Day. I had asked Thomas to take photos of me and Daniel as part of my celebration. They all turned out awful. Simply awful. Not because of his photo abilities but because I had an ugly hair day and a zit. This stupid goose kept messing up the staging, and if I looked decent in one, Daniel had one eye closed and the other half open. If he got his act together, I was a mess. Figuring all was lost for me, I told Thomas to switch sides, at which point I got behind the camera and captured this shot. It makes my heart happy. Guess I got what I wanted after all!

See what other photos people are sharing, all featuring yellow, at i heart faces:

Librarians: A Breed of Their Own

I love libraries, but what the heck is it with librarians? I swear every single one that I have encountered is draconian about frivolous rules, to say the least. They are also typically socially awkward, but that is really just an extroverted person’s opinion, not a fact.

When I was teaching high school, I was always flabbergasted by them. For example, I had a high school friend suddenly pass away. It was quite tragic, and I wanted to be able to attend the services. My students were doing their research portion of the term, and it was going to be a tricky arrangement to get the sub to teach anything appropriate in order to allow us to not lose our scheduled library time (which consisted of me teaching everything but giving students access to books). When I discussed it with my principal for approval, it was suggested that the situation called for extenuating circumstances and the librarians (take note plural here) should be able to handle my two remaining  classes in the library and, therefore, I would not need to take official time off and get a sub in order to attend the funeral. When relayed to the librarians, they both looked at me puzzled, terrified. These college educated women that could both be my mother replied, “You want us to watch them by ourselves? I don’t think we can manage that.” Un-be-lievable. Yes, I am asking you to actually work with and teach students (gasp!). You have a full-time adult library aid and 2 teen library aids per period, so I believe you can manage 27 students for 2 hours while I attend a 23 year old’s funeral, thanks.

Before I had two kiddos and began teaching college on-line, the grounded classes I taught were required to do an intro to the library since the students were Freshmen needing acclamation. The sessions they gave were boooorriinng. Although all the librarians were pleasant, they were able to put more students to sleep than a hypnotist. My classes always came away complaining of wanting to gouge their own eyes out with their mechanical pencils.

One would think that perhaps the public librarians would be better.  They are, however, employees of the third reich when it comes to rules. One day I forgot my library card (the shame!), which was not noticed until Daniel had already selected his books and placed them on the counter to be checked out to take home. Apologetically, I confessed to my forgotten library card and asked if I could be looked up by my name. Using my name to check out books was acceptable but only when accompanied with my photo id/license, which seemed reasonable. As I hand over my license, I was quickly informed that I can not check out any books if I forget my library card again until a full calendar year after this preposterous event of forgetfulness. I think illegals have an easier time getting social security cards and gainful employment than library patrons have checking out books sans library card.

(Daniel loves the library so much, he creates Lego models of the library, complete with a little boy at the computer being read The Cat and the Hat, just like he would be….see pic for proof!)

There are other incidents, but let’s fast forward to yesterday, when I received an e-mail letting me know our library books were overdue. Ooops! We’re generally better than this, but we’ve been busy, so late they were. I picked up my phone, which was next to me, and decided to quickly call and renew. Full of enthusiasm, the librarian informs me that I can certainly renew my books on the phone. Our conversation continues like this:

“What is your library card number?”

“Ummm. I do not have that near me, sorry. Can you please just look it up by my name?” I kindly inquire. 

“No, I can not.” she coldly replies.

“Seriously?” I ask full of astonishment.

The librarian flatly responds,”Yes, we can not renew it by your name.”

“But why not? That just seems silly.”

She quickly pings back this rationale: “Well, we do not know that you are who you say you are. You could be anybody on the other line.”

I retort the following: “Oh, yes. I am a completely evil stranger that goes around calling libraries and—oh my!—renewing other people’s late library books! The horror.”

We will not even go into the fact the stupid library card is now on my car key chain (so we will not  forget it any more), which could easily be lost. If lost, the sacred library card number would then be in the hands of evil doers of the world, at which point my library books could receive an infinite amount of renewals by the mystery villain, since knowing my name would not be a prerequisite.

Now that I look back, it appears to be a good thing I did not give her my name. :O)

Leaving a Fleece

Ever had to make a win-win decision?

Even being a win-win, it is still difficult because you are simply deciding between two things that can essentially rock your world— but there is still the desire to figure out which one will rock the most and will have the greatest force.

Decisions. Unknowns. Wins. Variables.

Which to choose? A crossroads.

We’re at one of those places, folks. For us? We’re pulling a Gideon.

The “fleece” has been laid and now we’re just waiting for the reply. How’s that for obscurity?

Either way it is a win, so lucky us, right?

Now we wait until our fleece tells us what to do next. Stay turned………  :O)

On the Light Side: A Note on Recycling

I’ve been a little quiet in blog land. The header at the top of the blog has changed, but I have not posted much lately. There is so much going on yet I am not in the mood to blog about those things. Instead, I will blog on something a little lighthearted:

I have an obsession with recycling. Sometimes I decide I am not going to recycle something, like a toilet paper roll for instance. Into the trash it goes, and as if in some Al Gore horror movie, I can hear it talking to me as I progress throughout my day. I get kinda twitchy and feel very guilty, knowing I tossed an item instead of taking it out to my garage into the cardboard recycle pile. 9.9 times out of 10, I go back and get it before the day is out. I, for better or for worse, have trashed a cardboard egg container while cooking in the kitchen only to go back later, scrape off the egg shells and other mess, and take it to my recycle pile.

The hubby and I do not have trash pick up at our home. We are old school and haul it off ourselves. I have to literally get out of my car 4 or 5 times as I drive around to the different recycle bins. For some reason, our entire county does not have a place to recycle glass. I once took a whole load of glass and asked the attendant where the glass went, being that I could not find a bin. “Into the compactor,” he said. This irritated me to no end. So, I now drive to a completely different county when I need to recycle my glass pile.

I am not sure from where this obsession comes. I do know that growing up I recycled aluminum cans to a fault. I would walk up and down the street and pick them up out of the ditch if they were found. Neighbors would bring a small grocery sack full or two of cans and toss them in our driveway for me to recycle. At this point it was not necessarily an environmental issue. I just recycled them for my Girl Scouts troop or for my own personal gain. My eldest brother and I would load them into his pick-up truck and take them up the street to his best friend’s house. His dad would then weigh them and fork over some cold hard cash right into my tiny hand. It was never much, but I guess 10 bucks to a non-wage earner is more than enough.

If we go to the dump and do not take any recyclables, which is rare, Daniel chimes in and says, “Don’t forget the ‘cycles Momma!” He will get a little upset if I do not have anything to recycle. Sometimes he is just a sucker for routine, but I like to think I am rubbing off on him.

I wish were I live was like where my brother lives. He just has a plastic bin with the universal recycle arrows on it that he can toss in anything that is recyclable. He places it out next to his garbage and the recycling is done. Until that time comes, I guess I am just confined to a garage full of 5, sometimes 6 piles of recyclable materials.

Anyone else have the guilty conscience if you do not recycle? Is anyone, after reading this, now going to have a guilty conscience if you do not recycle? :O)