Another day in another week of a home learner's life.

Last year, at the age of eight, Kitten began the school year in her first 'real,' away from home school. It was a phenomenal, tiny little independent school with its curriculum based in bioregional sustainability. They believed in child-led learning and we loved it there - we fit. It wasn't perfect, nothing is, but it was the best of all worlds to our little family. A month after school began, our delightful landlord gave us six months notice. He was selling our house. Gee, thank god we'd redone the 30 year old flooring throughout and completely rebuilt the rotting bathroom! He might not have been able to get the $400K he was hoping for.

I digress. With housing being what it was in the city (read: nonexistent) we quickly discovered that we didn't have the option of sticking it out for the remainder of the school year. With that decision made for us, we discovered another positive point about the school. It had a great distance learning program. Brilliant. Me? Not so much. I really prefer to do my own thing. I don't like feeling like I've got someone looking over my shoulder. Not only that but I'm really lazy and easily overwhelmed. Not the best two characteristics when trying to... well, anything! So our poor DL teacher had to pull it out of her ass at the end of the year because my reporting sucks.

We're with a new program this year. My sister has been with this program for a couple/few years and offered to be my paper-worker as they require weekly reporting of a very detailed nature. She said, "You do the home learning and give me a general outline of what you've done, I'll put it in the form they want to see." Well, guess what? They seem to be less than pleased about the fact that Kitten is registered under my sister's name (as opposed to a parent) and they want me to register with the program. Yay. I'm f*ing thrilled. From 3x yearly reporting (which I sucked at) to weekly reporting... did I already say 'yay?'

Needless to say, my life has not exactly been what I'm used to. Kitten has swimming lessons 2ce/week, plus 'Library afternoon,' 'Park day,' and woodworking. Monday is the only day we're not scheduled out the ass. Whee. Yeah, I've been busy, not that it really makes a difference to blogging. Busy... lazy... it all ends up the same. No updates.

I'm updating!

Now, for the news. Wolf had a laparoscopic appendectomy on September 9th (Happy birthday to YOUUuuu!) He's doing well and only had to go back in once (due to refusing post-operative hospitalization for longer than 12 hours.) He's still tender which means kitten head butts him in the belly at least once a day. Yesterday, finally, we were painfully graphic about the procedure. Hopefully the abdominal abuse eases for a bit.

Kitten is doing well. She's in her element- busy, busy, busy! I'm ... me. I have good days and not so good days. I'm okay. I'm rolling with it. Sometimes I'm rolling under it, protecting my arms and legs from the wheels, but I'm still here.

Curses.

I awoke at 4:45 this morning to the sound of a phone ringing. It was Wolf's cellphone and he launched himself from the bed saying, "No way." He returned in a huff with the announcement that one of his crew needed a ride to work as his previous arrangement was 'puking drunk.' The usual Monday-drive to work grew from one to two and a half hours. Wolf left at 4:58 and I promptly went back to bed.

I awoke at 6:08 this morning to the sound of a phone ringing. It was Wolf calling to say he was passing our house (having procured his passenger) on his way to work. He said he'd wave but I'd already taken the phone back to bed.

I awoke at around 8 this morning to the sound of a phone ringing. It was Wolf, checking to see if I was okay. He thought I'd sounded a bit 'off' when last he called. I told him that I had been sleeping, not 'off.' I told him I'd call him back.

I awoke at 10:30 this morning to the thought of calling Wolf back. I've had a headache since phone call number two. I opened my eyes and there it was.

God, I hate phones.

Once and for all, and all for what?

My next door neighbour is currently going to esthetics school. A few weeks ago, while sitting around the bonfire (god, I love the country) we started talking manicures. I confided that I'd only ever had two (fie, for shame!) in my life, that both consisted of acrylic overlay to strengthen my natural nail, and that both had a life of about 48 hours before they began to lift off my natural nail. She scoffed at the poor workmanship of my previous Estheticians and offered to do my next manicure for $40 dollars, about half the price I'd pay in a salon.

Saturday, we finally got around to making it happen. Here's the breakdown.

The first hour was spent in preparation. There are powders and liquids, bonding agents and nail jewels, five different files - not to mention the pot that apparently needs to be smoked before the laying of product can begin... hey, I did say that I'm in the country now, and she did say that she liked to have a plan. Cannabis is said to aid in the production of creative juices.

Anyway, that first hour passed without incident. It took all of ten minutes to prep the nails of both hands so they were ready for acrylic. The next two hours was spent applying, shaping, filing acrylic to my left hand with a brief flurry of "Shit, you made me bleed!" **A short, two hour break followed so that Wolf and I could honour a dinner date at the local pub, then we were back at it.** It took another two hours to re-prep and complete the overlay on my right hand.

As I said, that was Saturday. Today, at least five of the overlays are pulling up. I say at least because much of my pinky nail is covered in a Superman Band-aid, protection for my raw and bleeding cuticle.

Summary:
I spent five hours with a pot smoking student (whom, I discovered, is only 2 months into her 8 month esthetics course,) having uneven, misshapen, bubbly acrylic nails applied, which have taken less than 48 hours to begin pulling up, for half price!

I am thankful, though. When we first began talking esthetics, her class was learning the art of the Brazilian Bikini Wax.

Creation: you are all gods.

I, like most I'm sure, have favourite bloggers. Some earn this rank by the quality of their writing, some by their humour. If a person can shift my perspective - I appreciate that, as well. There are countless specific reasons that a blog might catch my eye but they all have one thing in common. They change me. For whatever reason and in whatever way, after catching up with my blog-list bloggers, I walk away from the computer seeing life (seeing myself) a different way.

This is a prime example. Jenny (from Mamadrama) writes about originality but she covers so much more.

So thank you Bloggers for taking part in my creation.

Alive and kicking, so to speak.

Okay, I know that I've been gone a really long time and I generally don't like that fact. I haven't had the time or motivation to write lately no matter how I would love to do just that.

I want to be able to catch up just like that but I am so distractable and time runs a bit faster for me because of it. If only I had... there are too many things and none of them would actually help. If only I had a laptop... I'd still have to open it and use it without getting totally distracted. If only I had a laptop that wasn't connected to the internet... I'd still have to get my writings from it to the PC. If only I had a Mac... No, that one pretty much stands, lmao. I have to make the time, post the pictures... there's a lot to do and the list gets a little longer everyday. This is not a bad thing, it just is.

I'm very glad for the 'friend page.' It means that you will know this is here, rather than not knowing of the update until you happen to check in, like other (cough-blogger-cough) blogs. Ahem, I seem to have a tickle.

Anyway, I have already eaten butt-loads of computer time and Kitten wants to check on her blasted webkin. I must let her as she finally, finally cleaned up her room and it only took 3 weeks. (Truth be told, I didn't really institute consequences until this week. It works! It confused her a little bit after the 2 wishy-washy weeks - wait a minute, she's nine! - but I'm sure we'll both get the hang of this thing.)

I'm outta here, but maybe this entry signals the beginning of the Three Posts a Day part of my cycle? Ooh, suspense

Dead woman walking.

I am so tired. I just can't seem to get any sort of spark lit under my ass right now. My sink is full of dishes, the only clean laundry in the house is stuff I can do in the sink (read: underwear). Dinner, this evening, was egg salad on toast... and chips and ice cream.

I'm already dreading this full week ahead of me... I don't know for sure but I'll bet setting a bedtime that's earlier that 3am might help a touch.

I'll let you know.

Overheard at my house.

I love my family. I love my daughter. I struggle to let go of my need to control. Our cat (Kitten's cat) is particular and precious and patient. She will speak when she's less than pleased, but she almost never strikes out. She's not much for being carried and will say so, meowing once as if she's been startled.

Kitten comes from one side of the house, carrying her beloved cat. A brief conversation ensues.

K - There, I finally found a position where she doesn't meow!
Me - Oh yeah? You picked her up by the muzzle?
K - NO!

Kitten loves to make forts for her cat. She designs complicated tunnel and bridge systems, some of which remain upright long enough to be enjoyed. Sometimes Kitten will forget about their game, leaving the room. This morning, after having fed her cat into one such tunnel, Kitten returns to the kitchen to chat. She spits out a brief flurry of statements, some of which are even related to each other, before returning to her room.

K - I know how to find just where she is in the tunnel (giggling)
Me - You enter the room and suddenly scream like a banshee?
K - NO!

Yeah, she has to deal with my crap all the fricken time.

Because I am highly suggestible...

You Are 72% Open Minded

You are a very open minded person, but you're also well grounded. Tolerant and flexible, you appreciate most lifestyles and viewpoints. But you also know where you stand firm, and you can draw that line. You're open to considering every possibility - but in the end, you stand true to yourself.

How Open Minded Are You?

Thank you Jen for commenting on Chases post and introducing me to your blog and, therefore, this post by Stephanie.

Shine on you crazy diamond... and no I won't get nekkid. Don't ask again.

For more pointlessness, please refer to my most recent LJ post.

Road trip.

Things I learned from Thursday to Sunday.

I learned (Thursday) that:

• leaving late doesn't mean arriving late.
• speeding is relative to the rate at which the traffic around you is moving.
• manifestation works, at least in terms of catching a ferry in time.
• eating more veggies makes one hell of a lot more stopping for gas... and then some.
• making good time at the beginning of the day doesn't necessarily mean coming out on top at the end of that same day.
• it doesn't matter how old you are when it comes to sneaking in to your dad's house without waking him, it still gets your heart pumping.
• my sister is/was better at sneaking in than I was, which explains a lot...
  
• it's easier to make my sister laugh when she's nervous... and she swears more (heh)
• it's getting easier to fall asleep in a bed that isn't my own.

(Friday)

• my dad gets up really early!
• he loves his kids and pleasant surprises.
• sixty four doesn't mean old.
• prairie heat is gorgeous.
• say what you want, no matter what you think others want to hear.
• there's no such thing as perfect, and sadness is always an option.
• it's really hard to fall asleep when I'm sad.

(Saturday)

• success can be measured in smiles.
• the older the people in my life get, the more amazing they become.
• the people in my life feel the same about me.
• I am fully capable of smiling and continuing even if I'm scared and overwhelmed.
• my Dad has touched peoples lives and they're thankful.
• if I am willing to accept it, there is immeasurable support out there for me.
• I have a whole other family, really!
• it is hard to go to bed the night before the road-trip home.

(Sunday)

• there are no mountains like the Rocky Mountains.
• Calaway park is still there, but bigger than it was 20 years ago.
• it takes longer for my cell phone to realize we've changed timezones when returning home than when leaving home.
• I don't need to take a picture to make a moment memorable. In fact, it can often ruin the moment, altogether.
• that my sister is hilarious and amazing and loaded down with just as much baggage as am I. (When looking at a line of cars on the highway, trapped behind the slow guy she said, "Look. Pace car... in other words, 'Mom.'" and related to me a conversation she and Mom had had years ago. "Mom, you know that you're supposed to pass in the left lane but travel in the right, right?" "Yes" "Well, do you think that you should change lanes and let the people behind you pass?" "They're going plenty fast enough." You gotta love her! Well, I do, anyway.)
• leaving late doesn't mean arriving late.
• manifestation works, again, in terms of catching a ferry in time.
• after 11 hours of sitting on my ass in a hot car there is enough moisture in the crack of my ass to cultivate mushrooms and moss.
• that I am allowed to be a barefoot hippy and I love it!
• no matter how badly I wanted a vacation, my favourite part was when my daughter launched herself into my arms at the end of it.

It's good to be home.

I hereby solemnly swear...

(Cross posted to LJ)
Wolf is finally living his dream of returning to the country. While I cannot claim that I dislike rural living, I can insist on retaining certain traits I was brought up with, while denouncing certain others that I have witnessed of the local populace.

Now that I'm a country girl...

1. I will do my damnedest not to take it to heart when my good grammar and syntax offends my neighbours (I am not pompous, my mother was an English major.)
2. I will burn some of my garbage, occasionally - not all of it, all the time.
3. You will never hear me state that I've had 3 bottles of wine, then watch as I get into my 4X4 to drive my friend home.
4. I will not use the verb douche when referring to tidying up my home.

I will be adding to this list as situations present themselves.

Seeing God.

(Cross posted to LJ)
I told him that I wasn't interested in watching his slow (or not so) decline and that I was struggling to be supportive in this, his time of illness. If he wasn't going to go see his doctor, so be it. He said he was just fine, that he'd been sick like this before and all has turned out just fine in the past. Then he excused himself to cough until he was sick. "Okay," Wolf said, "if I'm not feeling better by Tuesday I'll make a doctor's appointment." That was on Sunday.

Monday was a replay of Sunday but at a distance (he's back to living-out during the week).

Yesterday morning he called me sounding chipper, if somewhat raspy.

Wolf: Hey babe, (chokecoughsputterwheeze) -(strangled) hang-on (coughhackcoughchoke.......)
Me: Oh good! You're feeling better.
W: Hey, that's only my second today. Really, I'm waaaaay better.

The conversation concluded after whatever pertinent information had been gathered and given.

The morning carried on in the usual home-schooling manner, with sneaking and attempted subterfuge, and at about 12:30, Wolf called again. It was the usual lunch time call. He sounded more raspy, like he had the day(s) before. I asked him how he was doing. He said it was all good. 'Have a good afternoon; talk to you later; love you and all that'...

Less than five minutes pass when the phone rings, again.

Wolf: I'm gonna call the doctor and find out if I can get a walk in appointment. (click)

Five more minutes brings with it the announcement that the office is closed for lunch and no one will be answering until 1 o'clock. Shortly before 1:00 he calls to ask me if I can please set things up with Doc God as he's already on the road.

Reception says, "Doc God's not on walk in today and he's booked solid except for an appointment at 1:40." There was no way Wolf could get home (one hour trip) and we could get to Vic (another hour trip). We decide that we don't care. We're heading in to the city, appointment or not. Not a really eventful trip. Nice scenery, smooth highway, tearing cough. Just loverly.

Into Vic and down the Highway, left on Cloverdale and straight on 'til morning... Yup, booked solid. We had to wait a whole 8 minutes before Doc God himself calls Wolf back (you're the next contestant...). Even down the hall, through the closed exam room door I can hear the wracking coughs. Yum! Ten minutes pass and he's heading back down the hall, the grim expression of a man who has to spend a small fortune to regain some semblance of health. Not too bad, really. Turns out the good doctor was only willing to give him 2 days worth. Why? I'll explain that one with the following exchange:

Doc God: Why didn't you come in sooner?
Wolf: (grinning and coughing)....
Doc God: (scratching on his prescription pad with a vengeance)...

And if you didn't understand that then you either are or have That Guy.

that guy
n.

One who takes care of ones needs, usually medical.

personal idiom:

(I'm/you're/he's) not that guy

• masculine judgment: Only pussies go to the doctor if they aren't bleeding from an artery and I'm not that guy.
• sarcasm: Some people go see someone about coughing up blood but Wolf is not that guy.
  

The fricken guy has a bronchial asthmatic infection "that some might call pneumonia." Doc God gave only 2 days of meds so that, if it wasn't getting better, he could escort Wolf to the hospital on Thursday. If Wolf says it's getting better and goes in for more antibiotics etc, Doc God gets to call any possible bluff. See, there's a reason we call him Doc God. He is all seeing and all knowing, but I can't confirm possible claims of omnipotence.

A new place for my thoughts.

I can't promise that this will always be cheery but I do promise honesty. I will be angry and sad and joy filled and wretched. It's all in here, waiting.