Movin' on Up

I think I've mentioned that Thomas is moving out. He's getting his first apartment, and he's pretty pumped up about it. He came down the other day and asked me if I'd help him pack. I shivered at the thought.

I told him he should start with his clothes first. Do the winter clothes now, and save what he needs to wear this week till later, but bring down the dirty clothes, cause I didn't want him packing away dirty clothes. "I don't have any dirty clothes," said the heir to the throne. Sure. Right. Those of you who have read about his laundry in the past know that it is a thing to be feared.

I went up to his room, and was met with the normal view -- floor covered with clothes. I pointed to one pile and asked, "what is that?" He said "oh, those are dirty." "So you DO have dirty clothes up here. What about these?" I pointed to the pile next to the other one and asked "what's up with these?" "Oh, those are clean." Just exactly how he could tell the difference is something that only a nineteen year old boy would know.

I folded a few things and got him started, then left him to his own devices, telling him to bring the dirty stuff down. A little bit later, he comes down with half a hamper of clothes. I told him that no way was that all of it. He said "well, you don't want it all. There's a LOT." OK, now we're getting to the bottom of it. I told him to go back upstairs and toss down the dirty stuff, cause I was doing laundry, and wanted to do it all at one time. The result was an avalanche of clothes that darn near could've knocked me out, and completely blocked anyone from the stairs.

::sigh::

At this point, I yelled up "throw your sheets down, too." "WHAT," he replied. "THROW YOUR SHEETS DOWN." I gave up all hope with the response:

"I have sheets?"

The Great Mouse Hunt

Seth told me the other day that he had heard something crunching in his room the night before. Those who have read this blog in the past know that Seth tends to travel in a little different orbit than the rest of us, so I just told him maybe there was a carpenter bee behind his dresser. Or maybe something had found some of the food that is bound to be in a 14yo boy's room. Who knows. He was serious, and just knew that something was in there, and for some reason, he thought it was a rat. Hmmm.........

Later that afternoon, he came out and said that Bandit, our big dumb lug fat cat, was stalking something, and he had, indeed, seen a mouse scuttle across the room. Crazy. Now, we do tend to see ONE mouse a year in this house -- it's an old house -- but it's always in the fall, right when the cold weather starts. Not in the summer, but hey, the kid saw it, so there must be one. I went in to check it out, and the Fat Cat was trying desperately to get behind the dresser, and Jill's dog was, for some reason, desperately trying to get under the bed. Well, I had Seth pull the dresser out, and found the dog brush that had been missing, several pens, a pair of flip flops, and enough dog hair to stuff a small pillow. Kinda like when I cleaned out the couch. The only thing we didn't find was a mouse, but we did get all the crap cleaned out before we put the dresser back, almost crunching Bandit in the process, because he was determined to get back there.

A couple hours later, Seth ran out and said that Bandit had indeed caught a mouse, followed by the inevitable "SEE, I told you I heard something in there." Turned out that Bandit, the big fat lug, had caught the mouse, tossed it around a couple of times before dropping it, giving it ample time to run for its life into a corner and disappear. Seth was, of course, freaked out, thinking that Bandit would drop it on his pillow in the middle of the night.

Next morning, I checked: no mouse on the bed. No cat stalking. Life moves on, at least for us, cause that mouse is probably dead.

Mid morning, Seth tells me that Bandit caught the mouse whilst I was in the shower, then ran downstairs with it. Not good! There is a lot of stuff in the basement. Stuff that I don't want a mouse eating, and stuff I don't want a mouse rotting in. We went down and tried to find it, to no avail, so I just prepared for the worst: opening a box one day and finding Mickey dead at the bottom. The day moves on, and then about 9 o'clock, Dan yells "come here, and bring the camera." Well, my camera is dead, and it's in the basement, so no go on that one, big guy. I run over, and he and Seth are standing on the stairs, staring at Bandit.

Apparently, the mouse either dragged itself out of its grave, or Bandit came back and got it, because now it was lying on the basement floor next to him. He was looking mighty smug, probably because we'd all said that he was too fat to grab it, but there it was. I asked Dan if it was dead, and he said yes. Seth said it wasn't, and I wasn't convinced either, so Dan tossed a wad of paper its way, and yep, it moved. Not much, but more than a dead thing would. I told him to get it the hell outta my house, and put it out far enough that the dogs wouldn't get it.

Few minutes later, I'm sitting on the couch, innocently IM'ing my niece, when in walks Dan, carrying a plastic drinking glass that he's covering with a gloved hand. He came over and started to lift the hand off the top, and was met with a blood curdling scream from his soul mate, followed quickly by me yelling "GET THAT THING THE HELL OUTTA MY HOUSE!" It was at that point that he stopped, stared, and turned the glass over, dumping the contents on my new rug. Only there were no contents. That damn glass was as empty as Sarah Palin's head, and Dan just doubled over laughing. I did too, and laughed literally till I cried, until Seth came skidding in the room, asking what the heck had happened. We couldn't even tell him.

A while later, I asked Dan to get me a glass of water, because he was in the kitchen. In he walks with the same stinkin' glass, now half full of water. I was horrified, even when he insisted that the mouse had never been in that glass, but I told him I didn't want hantavirus, so go wash his hands and get me a different glass. He did, but he was still laughing when we went to bed.

Dan said he'd taken it outside and tossed it over the fence in the backyard. Poor thing! First it survives one cat attack. Then it survives a second cat attack that involved just about everything but waterboarding, only to be followed by an Air France flight over our fence, and Dan laughing about the whole thing. Seth still has that "I told you so" look whenever it's brought up, and Bandit looks alternatively proud of himself, and pissy that we took his prize away. Me? I am gonna get my own drink the next time.

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What goes around, comes around

Thomas is moving out soon. This, of course, may be of little significance, since a lot of times, I forget he even lives here. Thomas is the quiet one in the family: the only one who isn't a talker. Add this to the fact that he works evenings most of the time, then stays up most of the night, and we don't usually see him till dinnertime anyway.

On Sunday of Memorial weekend, we were sitting around, trying to figure out some plans for the next day. Whatever it was, Thomas mentioned that he couldn't do it, because he had to work the next day. Since he normally works day shift on weekends and holidays, I didn't think a thing about it. Noon the next day, who wanders into the living room but Thomas. "What are YOU doing here," I asked him. I was, of course, met with a look of "my mother is an idiot" from the heir to the throne, who merely responded, "uh, I live here." "Well, I thought you were working today." "I don't work till this evening," he said. Oh!

Mid-afternoon, Jill wanted to go to the movies, and as we were getting ready, Dan asked if Thomas was going. I said no, he was working 3-11. "Well," Dan said, "then why is his car here?" "Oh, dear Lord, he must've lost track of time," I said, and ran upstairs in a mild panic (see, I still kind of feel responsible, though I don't work there anymore). I said "What are you doing here?" The look of "I am the child of an idiot" came my way. "I told you, I work tonight." I slunk out of his room, feeling rather dumb that he must've been working at 4, not 3.

Off we went to the movies. We got home, and there he was, washing his car in the driveway. Well now I was SURE that he'd screwed up. Jumped out of the car and demanded "What are you doing here?" He just shook his head at me and looked away. "Seriously. What are you doing here?" He was till looking at me like I was an idiot when he told me that it was Monday, which means he didn't have to go in till 10. Yeah, all of these exchanges, and I never found out what time he actually was supposed to go in. Guess that would've been valuable information, since he goes in at different times on different days, but meantime, the boy is probably still shaking his head and wondering why the heck his mother keeps asking him what he is doing here. In his own home.

The answer? He lives here. But only till the 13th, after which time he'll probably answer the door at his apartment and ask me "what are you doing here?"

News from My Orbit

We recently had our hardwoods refinished -- as usual, a long involved process that included a dog jumping through a bedroom screen, but hey, that's how we live around here. Happily, as soon as that ratty carpet came up, I was able to get off all my asthma meds, so yeah, hardwoods are good.

Flip side is that I told Dan I wasn't turning on the A/C until the ducts got vacuumed, cause I knew that they had to be full of sawdust. I scheduled an appointment with Hoosier Air Solutions, after a very interesting conversation with Dana, the owner. Nice guy who knows his stuff, so I felt good going into this. Felt even better when the tech showed up on time and ready to roll, had a USI shirt on (that's where The Brat is going to school in August), and was seemingly an equally nice guy. We were off to a great start.

So I was showing said guy around the house, when he asked to see where the furnace was. I was walking downstairs to show him when I heard the back door open and who should show up but Dan's brother. Four dogs, two cats, two teenaged boys, a brother in law, and a HUGE vacuum cleaner was going to, I knew, make for yet another interesting day in the land of Utter Chaos.

Brother in law said he needed to use our internet connection, cause his laptop wasn't working at his sister's hours. Fine. If there's one thing that we do well around here, it's internet connection. Basically, if our internet connection went wonky, I'm pretty sure three of us would have to be committed, so yeah, coming to our house to use our connection isn't any big surprise. Since James is doing a class online, he really needed to get a good connection, so he plopped on the couch and started working.

He got to the website and his computer froze. He was not happy, as this is a problem he's apparently been having, and a couple of reboots later, things weren't looking up. I told him to borrow Dan's, but he kept trying to reload the site, without success. This set off a bit of a fit that involved some yelling at the computer and slapping of the keyboard, and ended with Dan's laptop in his lap. Great. He set off to working on his class, which happens to be medical terminology -- right up my alley.

Dan had told me some time ago that he was doing a medical terminology class, but when I asked Dan why, he said that he was working toward being a medical transcriptionist. Whaaaat? Even Dan couldn't explain how a deaf guy could be a transcriptionist, since that is 100% taking dictation, which usually requires hearing, but if anyone could work it out, it'd be James, so fine. When he showed up to work on his class, he mentioned he's working on being a medical biller and coder, which makes MUCH more sense to me. Thought I was losing it for a minute, but James explained it much better. And although James lip reads, and speaks fluently, I'm sure that his normal vocabulary isn't 100% what ours is, but he's doing great in school, with a B average.

So there I am, sitting on the couch, working on my website, and James is working on a "reverse translation," which meant that he had to translate a paragraph from laymen's terms to medical-ese. You know, this is probably not the easiest thing to learn how to do, but imagine if you can't hear any of what's being said -- definitely makes things a bit harder. Well, he got stuck on something and needed help, so I started trying to explain it to him. Suddenly, I hear this whining that I thought at first was James' hearing aid, till I realized no, it was just the big ole vacuum starting up again. Cool. Cool, that is, till the dogs realized what was going on and started barking like rabid animals. James just kept talking and reading from his book to me, totally oblivious to the caucophony, much less to the fact that I couldn't hear a doggone word he was saying.

That's when it occurred to me: I'm sitting on the couch, dogs barking, big vacuum sucking out the insides of my house, trying to teach Latin to a deaf guy, and I'm the one telling HIM that I can't hear him.

So yeah, that's life in my orbit. How's yours?

Meantime, I'm too lazy to shop for vintage today, so just check out the Hoosier Air Solutions website, cause this is a good way to make life suck, but in a good way.

Possum. And I'm not playin'

We have suddenly acquired a possum in our yard. This is not an easy feat, considering we live in a very urban, inner city area, but leave it to us to get a possum.

This fat thing showed up one night when Seth let the dogs out to do their business. He came running in the house, frantically looking for Jill's help, because Big Butt and Butthead were going nuts, whilst Rocky was, of course, oblivious to the entire thing because he is an idiot.

Next day, I was in the sunroom scanning patterns. It was about five o'clock or so -- broad daylight -- as I sat in front of the picture window, scanning away. Well, you know that feeling you get when something's just not right? I got that feeling, and looked out the window to see that that possum was eying me from on top of the fence, on the other side of the driveway. I mean EYEING me, like Louis Gossett, Jr and Richard Gere in "An Officer and a Gentleman." Creepy. Have you ever seen the claws on a possum? They are HUGE.

That possum sat there eyeing me for at least twenty minutes, even after the kids and the dogs came in the room and looked at him. We ordered Chinese, and long story short, Seth had to go out to pay the guy by going out the back door (maybe I'll tell that story tomorrow), went walking down the driveway right by that possum. Dan was cracking up, of course, and I was just hoping he didn't make it angry. Seth, as usual, was oblivious. When he came walking back up the driveway with the food, I was even more concerned, so I said "hey Seth, look to your left." He about jumped outta his skin when he realized that the possum was only about three feet from his head.

We've seen the critter off and on since, always on the fence. I haven't seen him in a while, but the kids have, so I'm always nervous letting the dogs out, especially at night. He kind of disappeared for a couple of days, so I thought maybe he was gone but oh no, he decided to appear today. Today. The day that the guys came to strip the hardwoods, and the dogs had to stay in Seth's room for the day. Seth's room -- the closest room to the fence. And the dogs saw him sitting there for the longest, till he ambled up the tree in the neighbor's yard, which I had suspected all along was his home.

Have you ever heard dogs going crazy over a possum? Three dogs? Try adding that to the sound of a pneumatic nail gun, a huge circular sander, a table saw, and several hammers, and that's how I spent my morning. My head is still pounding from the mayhem. And I get to do it all again tomorrow, since the floors still aren't done yet. So if anyone knows a good way to get rid of a gangsta possum from the ghetto, please let me know. Guns are not permitted, lest Jill throw herself between the gun and the possum, but I'm open for ideas. No dogs allowed.

Southern Living

I had to drive down to Evansville today, so that Jill could get registered for classes and do freshman orientation. Just having Jill in the car can be an interesting experience, and we had to leave at 5:15, so I really wasn't sure what to expect. I guess I knew it wouldn't be normal when I saw her walk out to the car in her pajamas, with a comforter wrapped around her head.

It was pouring rain, too, which didn't excite me too much. I love my little Yaris, but when it's windy, it blows all over the place -- you'd think with this fatty in the car, I'd anchor it down, but no go. Add dark, semis and pouring rain to the mix, toss it in a bowl, and you get how I spent three and half hours of my morning. And without caffeine, too, which definitely made me cranky, but since Jill was sleeping in the back seat, I didn't want to stop and risk waking the sleeping dragon, so I just kept going.

Round about Vincennes, two and a half hours into our journey, Jill sat up and announced she was changing clothes. In the back seat of the car. I guess her days of modesty are gone, because after some muttering and kicking the back of my seat, she tossed the orientation schedule at me. This paper was something that she had gotten in the mail several weeks ago and me, trying to avoid being a helicopter parent, trusted her when she told me the time we needed to arrive. I asked her again the other day, and the answer was the same -- 8 o'clock. I even happened to remember that Evansville, being in the heel of the boot, so to speak, is on Central time, which gave us an extra hour. An extra hour, that is, till I looked at that form and saw the little blurb about the placement test starting at 7am. The mandatory placement test which, if you don't take it, you can't register for classes.

That's when the mama dragon woke up, sans coffee, and was not smelling roses.

I was pretty concerned about doing seven hours of driving, only to come home unscheduled for classes, but right about the time I started vocalizing my concerns, Jill said she felt sick. Said she felt sick in a tone that only a mother can appreciate, when you're in a car with a kid in a back seat full of stuff that isn't gonna be easy to clean up if she spews. I yelled at her to get in the front seat, thinking that all of the blowing around of the car might be making her carsick, and next thing you know, she's clambering over the gearshift and plopping next to me.

It was a miracle cure.

After missing a turn to the school, we finally arrived, only to be told that yes, she could do the placement test, but not till the afternoon, or she'd only have twenty minutes to do it. Sat through two long orientation sessions -- finally got caffeine in the break, which was a good thing, cause I was falling asleep for sure, and got the fisheye from a couple of the speakers. There may have been snoring involved, but I'm not sure of that. I do know that nothing will put a grown woman to sleep quicker than seemingly intelligent people asking stupid questions that have already been answered, especially when it involves financial aid. The other thing I know is that I walked out with another Mountain Dew in my purse, just for safety's sake.

Took The Brat to advising, so she could schedule her classes. Twenty minutes later, he walked out alone. No sign of Jill. They ended up taking every kid who was waiting, and a few more who walked in, before Jill finally reappeared. She looked happy, thank God. And so, after spending eight hours at the halls of secondary education, what was the one thing that Jill had to say about her day?

"Most of the guys I saw were not bad looking. Oh, let that guy out of his parking space first. He's cute." ::guy pulls out in front of me, after cutting me off in the first place:: "Oh, never mind, he's not that great. But that guy who handed me my bag? He was fine." Oh yes, great readers, you too will one day understand that the most important thing in freshman orientation is finding that the guys are not bad looking, and some rank as just darn FINE. And since she came home and looked up some of her professor's on Rate My Professors, she's already changed her schedule to something more acceptable. But one thing remains the same: those boys are fine.
God help me. I may need Xanax for this. Click the image to help with tuition money.

Dude, where's your chair?

We went downtown today to the Earth Day celebration. Seth plays in an African drum group, and they've performed at Earth Day for three years running now. It serves the dual purpose of being their spring performance, but it sure is fun. They get to perform with the adult group, Village Drums, who are phenomenal to watch.

Seth got interested in drumming when he was about four. Our next door neighbor, Rad (yes, that's his real name) was in Village Drums, and he used to practice in the back yard. Seth was never, ever shy, and he used to stand by the privacy fence and bellow that he wanted to see what Rad was doing. Rad, being the nice guy he is, invited Seth over to play the bongo a little bit, and Seth was hooked.

Several years later, I saw a post on a homeschool board, from someone offering drum lessons to kids. It was just for a week in the summer, which was the perfect time to try it out. He returned in the fall for lessons, and has been playing for four years now. They play drums, cowbells, tambourines, and all sorts of percussion instruments that I can't even pronounce the names of. The first time they performed with Village Drums at Earth Day, I told him how cool I thought it was. His only response was the complaint that it was hard to play with the adults because he couldn't hear his part. As time has progressed and I've seen them play together several times, I realize it really must be hard for them, but they sound good nonetheless.

If you ever get a chance to go to a performance, or participate in a drum circle -- go. It's not something you'll forget. Of course, this year, the most memorable thing was actually after Seth was done. He and I were standing there listening to the adults play while Dan, as usual, wandered around talking to people. The whole thing was being done under a big tent, so we were standing on the grass. There were some chairs there, but not many, so I was standing there listening, when suddenly the guy in the chair next to me rolled right off his chair and onto my foot, doing a face plant right in the grass.

Now, I knew Earth Day is all about taking care of the earth, but doing a face plant onto Mother Earth is taking it a little far.

Heck, I wasn't sure if the guy was dead, having a seizure, or what, and I was a little stuck because a) he was on my foot and b) I was still carrying around the reusable tote bag that Walmart was giving out. We had wandered around getting freebies, so I had a lot of stuff in the bag, including a tree about three feet long which, when not held correctly, poked the nearest person in the head. So yes, I was planted there with a man on my foot and a tree that was gonna fall on his head or put my eye out if I moved wrong.

I finally extricated myself from the foot, handed Seth the bag, and gave the guy a few shakes, yelling at him if he was ok (remember, there were a LOT of drums being banged, so it was not likely he was just napping). He finally said yes, but didn't move till I convinced him that he wasn't going to be able to lay there on my foot, facedown in the grass, looking dead, so he rolled himself over and sat up right about the time that Dan wandered over, oblivious to the whole thing. I asked the guy again if he was ok, and he said "oh yeah, I have arthritis." HUH? This guy was younger than me, and arthritis doesn't usually make you fall outta your chair like that, but that was all the explanation I was going to get, so we watched him for a while, then left to come home.

One of the more random things to happen to me, but remember, I live in Utter Chaos, so anything is possible. Sometimes I'm afraid to ask what's gonna happen next, but if this stuff didn't happen, I guess we'd be normal, and then I wouldn't know how to function.

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