Town today

Tomorrow is the first, school- wide cootie control at the kid’s school. I know this because I received a little paper from the school telling me so.

It was a very informative letter, going into the finer details of how the cootie control would be run, you know, like the fact that the children would be taken out of their classes two by two, that they would not be told if they had cooties or not, and I think it mentioned whether or not the cootie control Mothers would be wearing gloves. Or not.

It also pointed out that children not taking part in the cootie control would feel left out, poor dears.

Somehow, I don’t think that The Girl will feel ‘left out’.

But doesn’t the thought alone of a cootie control make your head itch ? I have a cootie comb that I picked up at WallyWorld last summer here on my desk. I suppose that I have checked my hair 6 times since they sent me that fool letter.

One of the things that HThe Father did today was to re-hang some of our favorite family photos in the hallway. I know, how Waltonesque, family photos in a hallway.

One that reappeared was an old favorite of mine. This one, in fact. It was taken on Dad’s ( I suppose one would call it ) ‘graduation ‘ day from, oh, I think airborne school, jump training, something like that. My Dad is the guy with the round head and the mohawk ‘do ( his forehead was in the process of getting very high indeed). On his lap is his helmet. While the picture is of a very poor quality, let me assure you that his name, ‘12343′, fit nicely on the front of his helmet, was even ascetically pleasing, two letters on each side of the center point.

When he first showed me this picture, he said look at the helmet of the guy next to me : you need to put him on a barstool and whirl him around to read it all.

The big brute next to Pops is Stormin’ Norman, by the way. And what do Army photographers say, before snapping a photo ? It obviously isn’t ‘ Say Cheese’ or ‘Smile !’.

It’s quiet here today. The Girl and The Boy are spending the afternoon at the stables where Girl rides. Lately, she has been spending Saturdays there with Best Friend. But Best Friend ’s family did something interesting during this week long vacation and Best Friend has yet to return to our little town.

And so The Girl convinced The Boy to go with her. She put her old riding boots on him, packed up her case with brushes and hoof picks ( what do I know ?) and off they went. They will spend the afternoon brushing ponies and helping the younger children saddle up their horses. I am curious how The Boy liked it. Or didn’t.

They both love animals of all sorts, but The Girl is just ‘better’ with them than The Boy. Not really ‘better’, just bossier, and animals seem to appreciate that. She can go out in the yard, munching on a sandwich and tell the dogs to sit and they do. In the last week, Elvis knocked The Boy over twice. The Girl always rides the most pig-headed ponies and horses. She finds a pony without a mind of it’s own boring. She would have made a great camp guard.

Chit-chatting with The Father, I say that I wonder how The Boy is , if he likes it . The Father, being the practical father, tells me that he told The Boy that if he likes it, he can start riding with The Girl on Tuesdays.

There are- he told The Boy- a lot of pretty girls at the stable .

The Father : Can I go on your computer tonight ?

( I am the only one with an Internet connection)

Mummy Dearest : No. You can’t. Shall I disable the IE, or will you respect my wishes ?

The Father came home at around 1 today and then took us all to McDonald’s. What can I say ? We have kids and it was good to get out of the house. He took the rest of the afternoon off as well, which was fine with me. Coming after his two week absence and then a busy week at work, the week of ‘vacation’ with the children at home took the last reserves out of me. I’m tired and miss having some time to myself. Well, uninterrupted time that is.

I can tell that I need some time for myself because I am down right ornery right now, deep within my thoughts.

Take, for instance, Brian’s photo thing. I am enjoying that very much. I am pleased with the pictures that I have taken for what I consider the ‘easy’ topics. The other 7 are more difficult for me, for they have an emotional quality and I want to avoid the obvious, Hallmark sort of result.

I am pleased with the confetti photo from yesterday, my photo of ‘fun’. It would have been much easier to take a picture of the laughing children at Carnival. Now, having said that I was pleased with the picture ( and rather surprised at the comments), let me tell you how I feel about it today.

I think the photo would be an excellent background to the recital of the following quote : Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in it’s own way.

I still see Hallmark in it.

But then, I’m very ornery today. Looking at the next topic, ‘attraction ‘, I have an almost irresistible desire to catch a photo Buddy trying to sit on Elvis’ face. And that means exactly what you think it means.

Weather and everyone else’s schedule allowing, I hope to go off on my own next week to the Big City. Buy the kids some clothes, perhaps some clams, wander around in a place where I am simply a somewhat shabbily dressed, middle aged woman window shopping, rather than a wife and mummy-dearest.

Karen wonders if I am real.

What do you think ?

Am I ?

Town today.

I suppose that it was obvious, earlier, that I am bored to tears. It happens. Today is Thursday, Market Day and so the children and I went off to buy small bags of candies and some fish for dinner. I had tucked the camera in my pocket as we were leaving, thinking perhaps to take a few ’snow ‘ pictures.

As we passed City Hall, though, I noticed the neat reflections in the puddles. And so, after we had completed our shopping, the children and I went in search of puddles with nice reflections.

It passes the time.

Town today

It snowed last night. A lot. The children who moved into the ugliest house in town woke me up, a little after 8, as they played in the snow on the street in front of our house.

When I came downstairs, I told The Boy and The Girl that they should get dressed, go play in the snow, meet the new neighbors. Really ? They asked. Really.

The Boy returned, teary eyed, after a few minutes. Some one threw a snow ball at him. I patted his head and wondered how he would ever grow up to be the super hero he aspires to becoming.

Before I have finished my coffee, The Girl is making suggestions of things to do today, things like climb Everest with the dogs, pick nick with the dogs, things which require me to go out into nature, with the dogs. Without saying a word, I look her in the eye, hold my coffee cup up. She nods. First your coffee.

Before 10, The Father has sent me an email : the company’s website is gone. A half an hour later, I have confirmed the fact : it is gone. I’m tired of my lousy connection, this should have taken seconds.

The Baby sits in her little rocking chair, here in my little room of my own, dressed as Dorothy, chattering on and on. And on. Did I know that my windows were super-duper dirty ? Did I ? Did I ? While I try to write a strongly worded letter to the tech people who host the company site.

I need to get out of this house, out of this town, out of mummy-hood for a few hours.