This Kid

Is to be celebrated today.  Nephew/cousin KT has made the big time.  More picture love to come, but for now this is the ONE that tells the tale.

Go for it dude, and success to you in all you seek to do.  The TinyHouse loves you.

I spent the night at home so I could get nothing done

And that's OK by me.

I did do a little thing or 2 today, but by and large I did the following:

• rabbit-trailing on the internet
• wandering around
• talking to God and asking him why I'm such a...um...retard about lots of things
• DRIVING from one end of freaking Wake County to the other to just 1) pay a tax bill, 2) turn in a cable box, and 3) settle up a medical bill and Hello?  BigTimeSuckDotCom?
• Working, some, though today wasn't all about that thought just enough to keep the lid on
• And being Fierce, while yet bubbly and approachable.

It's a struggle, y'all. CLEARLY.

But I'm not giving up.

The children are screaming, all's right with the world

This is an actual thing. 
That someone is selling.
I find this amusing.
Yes, it has something to do with this post

We live next door to a preschool.  This preschool is small, only does half-day programs, and is populated with little people who just love to scream.  There's one kid who shouts a particular friend's name over and over and over, one kid who yells his favorite activity over and over and over in a bid to maybe someday get someone to 'be a train!' and a PASSEL of 'em who scream bloody murder when the train (actual train) goes by blaring its horn at the level crossing a couple of blocks away.

Because it's 'windows open' season, we can hear the little screamers ever so much more clearly than when it's 'heatin' season.'  They have amazing stamina, and a real penchant for high-volume communications.  Bonus - because it's nice out, the teachers let them stay out in the play area for a while longer than they do in less-clement weather.

Yay?

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And while I do sound like I'm grousing about them, it's really not so bad having a preschool next door.  The afternoons are quiet, the business keeps the buildings and grounds nicely kept, and on the weekends there are no noisy neighbors crashing around drunk or stupid and making life unbearable or peeping around in OUR backyard to see what we're doing, so that's nice.

Speaking of, we are once again in the 'no see 'em' category of backyards, in that the tress have all leafed out nicely and screened us from our backyard neighbors.  It's nice.  I can go out there in my PJs if I wanted to and very few people would even know.  Not having next-door neighbors, and having the green screen out back, give us a very lovely private space to hang out.  Now some of y'all with actual property (as in, more than our tine 0.2 acre) would laugh at what we call private, but I'm here to tell you that it's about as cozy and protected a spot as when the ex and I had many acres of property to roam around on.  It's just a matter of perspective - I don't get ruffled when I can HEAR someone anymore (used to HATE that on the Big Acres), as long as I can't see 'em and they not being horribly loud or obnoxious it's all good IMHO.

Which brings us back to those kids, I suppose.  I can hear them, but unless I leave my property I can't SEE them, so I still have my little cushion around me, protecting me from snoopers, miscreants, and the germy bodies of 4-year-old screamers.  :)

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Also, is it just around these parts, or are the birds going absolutely nuts in the mornings where you live too?

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Got to git.  There's a slew of messages pouring into my work email and I'd best go back to it (been online a while already this a.m.) and check out what's next on the list of things to do RIGHT NOW.

Tiff out.

OMGish it's changed again

whoa , the caption feecha is cool!

Blogger....changed.

I can't....keep up.  Bones.....save me!

Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a special-Ed teacher.  You're a dang SPACESHIP CAPTAIN and should be able to figure this out for yourself!

But...interface, Bones.  It's.....changed.  I'm doomed without your....help.

Bones out.

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Seriously.  Blogger interface = complete instachange, and I'm not thrilled.

In 2 weeks I'll love it, no doubt.

Y'all ax me then if I remember' how it used to be, mmmkay?

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Currently at the TinyHouse, 1 Thing is sleeping on the LR recliner (has been since I got home over an hour ago), 1 Thing is doing 'something' in their room (and has been since I got home over an hour ago), and the LOML is sleeping in our room (has been since I got home over an hour ago).

All this quiet is weird.

SO, I'm doing what only the very strong can do under these circumstance, which is having an adult bev or 2 while gathering the strength to put away the nonperishables procured at the BJ's this afternoon while they all began their periods of sloth.

Once that's done, I might unload the dishwasher, stock it with the dirties in the sink, empty the dryer, refill it, start a new load, and, yeah.  Not feeling it.

(aaand, from this corner emerges the LOML, who instantly goes to the washing machine and starts it going!  WOW!  I'll forgive him the lack of a hello in light of this awesome reduction in my looming to-do list.)

Guess it's time for me to address the dishes issue.

And now you're all caught up.

Tiff out.

it's about dang time

well, it's happened: I hate the design of this blog now.

It was awesome and fun at first - so kicky and daring! THen, it got comfortable, Then....it got boring. Much like many relationships, the action between me and it has soured over time. It's been around for almost 6 years. That's time enough. This dissatisfaction is brought on, not truly shockingly, because I read around. Oh yes, I do - I read sites that are fresh, simple, inviting, not clogged up with links and crap, and I like that better than what I have now.

Then I read sites that TRY to be fresh, simple, inviting, blahblahblah, and once you get to a certain level it becomes clear that *WHAM*! They're only there because the author Has A Book and Needs A 'Blog' to be accessible to the masses, and you know what? That is bullshiat of the very highest order and a smack in the face of all of us who rode that awesome wave of personal bloggerism a few years ago to great effect and many a new-forged friendship. It's like falling for someone only to find they're paid to look good instead of just being naturally attractive and alluring, you know??

Fine. I get it. I know most of you who were hanging ten on a gnarly rip of writing 5 years ago have hung up the board and, and the rare occasion, maybe dip a toe into the shallow waters of Facebook to get your word on, so perhaps my protectiveness of our goofy kind of bloggery is terribly Quixote-ish, but I can't help wanting to shoo off the (sexyfake) interlopers from what was once a rich territory of content, argument, friendship, and exploration.

Now, mind both of you, I have friends of long-standing who are wonderful authors and who have blogs too, and those blogs mention the books, but for real you'd never really KNOW they were book writers because 1) their 'real 'blog is terribly engaging and fun and 2) the whole advert thing is wicked understated and 3) they don't go around posting pictures of themselves and their families in the World's Most Attractive Light and pretend they did it themselves (as one site I just went to did and offended me terribly. Perhaps I am just cranky). Authors with blogs who SAY they are and don't go all nuts with the marketing slick as goose shit angle have their charm and attraction. They keep it humble, and I like that and thus will support them and their quirky writerly ways. Those other ones? With the 'hey I'll give you a peek of my awesome life because it's always photographed in long light with multiple softboxes while we, who are in color-matched clothing, pretend to play LEGO' way? Get the fark off my street. Yo head too big for our sidewalks.

Long and short, and this goes out to those people that I KNOW will understand - I miss our bloggy days, I really do. They were fun, right? Sure seemed like it.

And I tell myself that maybe I don't like blogging so much anymore because I hate the look of this place now and am ready to shed it like a 90's hairdo, but it's really more that somehow our community got stolen and there's nobody much around anymore and even IF I'd started writing just to Write, it's not enough to shout into the wind anymore.

I can do that on real paper, and with a great deal more vitriol and spunk than I do here.

So, I don't know. Would a fresh coat of paint and a new outlook refresh this dark little corner, or is it as futile as wallpapering a condemned home?

If the former, then I'm looking for new ideas for this place, and if the latter, I guess I'll see you on Facebook (but NOT PINTEREST, NEVER!!!!! [for reasons only my own]).

Also, let's get together soon, it's been too long since we've seen one another.

Also, also- I'm not ever quitting writing, but it'd be so much more fun if You wrote too. Facelift or not, I expect I'll be tapping feebly at the keys of NAY for many more years, because my handwriting now sucks and I can't hold a pen long enough to write a whole journal entry. Typing all this MentalDross out is the wave of the future!

I do not have a diagnosed motor insufficiency, BTW. I just haven't handwritten anything in so long that it hurts to write more than a paragraph or two. Thought you ought to know...

Tiff out.

Some seasonal type things, I guess

For most of the week I've been aware that April 6th was coming up, and for a while I wondered 'why is this date important again?' and then it struck me: Today is my Dad's birthday.

Shameful that it didn't occur to me right away. I'm sorry, Dad, for not remembering sooner. You've been gone 20 years now and though you're never far from my thoughts it's becoming far too easy to let the 'dates' get by me.

So, Happy 80th (!) Birthday to the best Dad that ever was. Here is a cake with a bunny on it by way of celebration.

I love you.

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Maybe it's that anniversary that caused the terrible dreams this morning, or maybe it was the fact that I woke up this morning at 5:30. Then at 6:15. Then at 7. Then in 6-minute increments as the snooze went off, until 7:30.

In those 6-minute increments came the dreams, swirling with odd characters, sick dogs, Chinese interior decorators, slamming garage doors, and a crowd of people who didn't give one little crap about why I didn't know what was going on and just wanted to go home, wherever that was.

By the time I hauled my carcass out of bed, I had a pounding headache and my face hurt.

And now, every time I swallow, my ears hurt. And my eyes feel like I've poured sunscreen into them. And the tonsils are starting to swell.

Just swell.

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In the 'more moroseness' category, we have 'Things that aren't working properly at our house': the boys' computer (can't load Java update, any ideas?), their gaming monitor (3 months old, WTH?), and our teevee (doesn't recognize the cable box).

Also, I think our year-old dishwasher is about to die. It makes terrible noises and spazzes out early in the 'normal' cycle. Must call someone about that, I'm sure.

The handle on the shower temp selector is loosening in a rather alarming way.

The shower curtain rod needs to be tightened up (it's a touch floppy).

It's a grand honey-do list, but the handyman is out of town. This has made me realize just how much I depend on him for support, knowledge, and action to rectify so many minor issues around the house.

I would make a terrible military wife.

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If it's not readily apparent by this time, today is a 'bad mood' day. It would be lovely to crawl back into bed (but that would give me a headache) and just not do anything at all, but that wouldn't accomplish anything so I showered, got dressed, and drove into work in time for my only meeting of the day.

Which was cancelled while I was en route.

Go figure.

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So, hey. Not every day is sunshine and roses, but I woke up this morning, and set to being grateful for that and also for our house, health, family, and job. Because even when it seems everything is conspiring against me to swamp me in a perfect storm of ennui, there's always those things to be happy about. Perspective, babies.

Hey, Happy Easter if you celebrate it, and Happy Weekend if you don't. Candy goes on sale Monday!

Tiff out