Straight From The Ten Year-Old

Sometimes Petunia just cracks me up.  Yesterday, she described a pair of her male classmates as “the two musketeers of annoying.”  Today, while discussing her suspicion that a third male classmate likes an exceptionally dramatic and high-maintenance female classmate, she told me that if it’s true, she “will lose all faith in his ability to make good decisions.”

Never a dull moment with that one.

Ribbit

Sounding a lot like a frog these days.  I have a bad head cold that I initially thought was some sort of allergies but isn't.  Ugh.  Finally at the stage where I'm starting to feel a little better but I'm hoarse as heck.  It's a good thing I'm feeling better at least since we are galloping headlong into travel soccer tryout season, starting next week!  Thing One is definitely staying put where he is.  Petunia is the big wild card: she's most likely either moving up a year or out to another club, tryouts will dictate which.  Thing Two will stay put if his team stays together at his current club, otherwise he will move to one of the two other clubs at which Petunia is trying out.  If those two both move, they will have to move together for the sake of my sanity; two clubs is bad enough, can't even imagine trying to juggle three. Plus HS soccer in the fall, should Thing One manage to make the JV team.

Anyhoo.  Had some stressful stuff going on here lately.  Terrible weather, plus a really ugly situation with the school board.  Specifically, with the ongoing teacher contract negotiations.  Not sure they are negotiating in good faith, actually pretty sure they aren't.  I've hit the point where I can't wait to get my kids the hell out of this school, which is a real shame since this is the 10th straight year I've had a kid there and I have three more yet to go.  I've already decided that this will be my last term on the Board of Education.  Petunia will be halfway through eighth grade by the time I would run for reelection (it's a K-8 school) and I will have served close to ten years by then.  Enough is enough.  I'm *really* fricking tired of being the bad guy because we observe the rules and the teacher's union representatives don't.

In other news, a dear friend more than likely has cancer, and may have something else going on as well.  He's having terrible fevers, which may or may not be related to the mass they just found in his lung.  I am absolutely beside myself about that right now, and it really gives me perspective on the ticky-tack shit the union is pulling.  I don't have the energy to deal with them right now.

Sorry this is such a downer post.  Not feeling the whole unicorns and rainbows thing right now.  On the bright side, I've recently taken up knitting (on one of those circular loom things, not knitting needles) and am about 3/4 done with a scarf, which actually looks half decent.  Proud of myself for that.  My guy friends are giving me grief about it, but no matter what stereotype anyone comes up with, pretty sure I won't fit it!  That's something at least.





  

Notes From The Nor’easter

One lesson we have learned over and over and OVER again: anytime a storm is forecast, fill some kitchen pitchers and a few 20 gallon tubs with water, lay in a supply of non perishable food and batteries, and do all the laundry there is before it hits.

In our very rural area, the only public utility is electricity.  Water comes from wells and homes have septic tanks, not a public sewer hookup.  No natural gas lines come out this far, either: home furnaces are fueled from individual fuel oil or propane tanks that are refilled periodically by tanker trucks.  Storms equal rain (or snow) and wind, which bring down trees or branches, which land on power lines, and that’s all she wrote.  Our homes run exclusively on electricity, which means that no power equals no water since the well pumps run on electricity.  There’s also no heat, no cooking (except in the fireplace, since no gas stoves) and no light.  Gets ugly quickly.  If you’re prepared with water, battery-operated lamps, food, firewood and heavy clothing, you can get through a winter storm, but the key is being prepared.

On the bright side, this community is awesome.  The social networks get buzzing immediately: whomever has power has everyone else over to shower and get warm and do laundry and charge devices.  

And the best part has everything to do with dumb luck, since we didn’t know enough about rural life when we bought our home to have chosen its location on purpose.  Quite the opposite, actually: the fact that it is on a main road actually concerned me when we purchased it, mostly because I was worried that the kids would run into the road when they were younger.  However, it quickly became obvious to us that “main road” equals “good” out here in the boonies.  The municipal garage is just up the road, so ours is the first road plowed (assuming we can get down the driveway to it!)  But what proved to be the definitive advantage to our location is that both the police station and the fire station are near that garage. All three of those key municipal facilities are on the same power grid, which (by that dumb luck I mentioned) we also happen to share by proximity.  Which means that every time the power goes out around here, the first priority for the power company is this town is our grid.  Which means that right now, while literally 97% of our town is currently without power according to the power company's online outage report map, I am typing this in my warm kitchen under a light that is not battery-operated.  Am I lucky?  Yes.  Am I grateful for it?  Hell yes.  Am I ready for spring?  More than you can even imagine.