Flashback to Second Grade

It's a small world.

I was sorting resumes for our 2nd grade position that we have open, and I came across my 2nd grade teacher's resume! For the purposes of this pseud-anonymous blog (Grandpa) we'll call her Miss T.

Miss T. was, perhaps, my scariest teacher ever. She was probably early 40s when I was in 2nd grade, and I recall that she was very plump and round. Her face especially.

She had a twin sister who was also single. (Aparrently she still is since she has the same last name.) I think her sister was a teacher, too.

In any case, all I remember of Miss T. is that she yelled all the time. All of the time. Consistently.

We'll see what happens with our position here...maybe she's gotten in 15 years. Maybe?

Wherein the Birds Have an Outdoor Adventure and Learn Great Lessons

Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, two well-adjusted, satisfied parakeets, took it upon themselves, one fine afternoon, to venture into the periphery of Daveland.

Daveland, as you know, is a lush, green paradise. On the edge of Daveland there begins a rocky desert with a large oasis.

Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley set out. They began by looking at some antiques at an open air market. Mr. Bingley was the most fond of this old duck.

He thought the chipped paint gave it "character".

As the duo traveled and enjoyed the sunshine, Mr. Darcy noticed a small grove of sacred lilac bushes. The two friends, knowing that lilac bushes were very, very precious, should also have known to stay away from them.

But these birds have never been known to be good.

Mr. Darcy promptly encouraged Mr. Bingley to join him in the sacred lilac bush. All was well until the unthinkable happened.

Mr. Darcy began nibbling on the sacred bush!

Suddenly, the two birdies were transported to the barren wasteland of the desert. Mr. Bingley was quite upset with Mr. Darcy for his sin.

The sun grew hot and the birds began to get thirsty. The birds also noticed that they were beginning to get a rash. Mr. Bingley was convinced it was part of their punishment for eating the sacred lilac bush.

Mr. Darcy said he had once heard of a rusty bird that was raised high in the air, and all that sick birds had to do was to look up at it and they'd be healed. So the two set off in search of the rusty bird.

They needed to stop at an oasis where they found some shade and water.

They began to feel better, but they were still not totally free of their rashes.

Finally, Mr. Bingley saw the rusty bird! They scurried over nearby and gazed up at the statue.

Slowly, the rash began to fade!

"Hooray!" Chirped the birdies.

"I will never nibble on sacred lilac bushes again," pledged Mr. Darcy.

"You'd better not," said Mr. Bingley. "I didn't like that rash."

The end.

I'm Not Yet Ready For the Olympics

On Sunday, Joey preached in Monroe. He did a great job.

I slothed in a hammock all afternoon and basked in the warm, spring sun. It was fantastic. I didn't watch any TV and I didn't have to get jumped on by the big dogs.

By the evening, when we got home, I was ready for some serious exercise. Joey had brought home his odd-looking (but extremely cool) bike, and so we were ready to hit the streets.

I grabbed my blades, and we were off.

First of all, I need to mention that the streets around our apartment are not smooth. They have patches of extreme roughness, and tons and tons of sand and gravel.

Second of all, the reader must be aware that I only learned to rollerblade last year and I am really, really bad.

Third of all, I have only fallen once, and I didn't really hurt myself too badly. This was last year. I figure I'm due for a good one here soon.

We were going down 3rd street(or, rather, Joey was riding his bike in circles trying not to get too far ahead of me) and I was doing great. I'd stumbled a few times, but I hadn't fallen.

It's such a rush to almost biff it good, but then save it at the last minute.

The road is really uneven, so it's hard to tell if I'm really a bad blader, or if it's the road. I hope it's the road.

The park at the end of the street had a nice new concrete path around it, so I took a spin or two. I tried to be like the Olympic speed skaters and go super low and cross my feet over the other on corners.

I almost fell. Chad Hedrick, I am not.

Then this dumb kid couldn't make up his mind as to which side of the walk he wanted, so I had to crash into the grass. At least I didn't fall on my face, though.

So...I'm going to keep working on my blading. I need some serious help.

On a random note, there's these little red bugs crawling all over my desk. They're extremely small, kind of neon, and very annoying. Does anyone know what they are? And how do I get rid of them?

Joey Wears The Pants

I told Joey last night that I was not getting up before 10:00 am under any circumstances. It didn't matter if I was awake before then, but I was NOT getting out of bed.

I got up around 8:00 am to get a drink, but shuffled back to bed since Joey had a friend staying with us anyway. I heard them rumbling around out there, giggling every so often, and making pancakes, but I was not to be enticed to come from my nest.

No way, Jose.

About 9:30, Joey came in.

"Jake's gone, aren't you going to get up?"
"No. See how it's not 10:00 yet?"
"Well....yeah, but you're awake."
"That's true, but I'm not getting up."

He did not go away, he began tickling me. Cruelty.

20 minutes later, I'd had enough of his evilness. He wanted me to get up so we could go on a super long walk. It's a really nice morning, I guess.

And so, against my will, I got out of bed at 9:51 and we were out of the house before 10:00 am. I'm trying not to be too bitter, he was right about it being a nice morning.

In fact, it's now 10:40 am and we've walked to the library where I'm writing this.

So much for my "I'm not getting out of bed until 10:00 am!" I guess we know who wears the pants in our house...and it's definitely not me! :)

Buy a Toyota, you must

Yoda the Toyota and I have a new convert.

This morning Bus Driver, one of our bus drivers (duh), came blasting in here. (Which was a welcome change, since it's so stinkin quiet around here today.) Bus Driver is an older farmer who is retired, and two weeks ago he came in here in a big stink because he wanted to steal my car.

Serious.

He was gonna take the keys and take mine and leave me with his scary motorcycle, which looks like it shouldn't run at all. It's quite haphazard.

Bus Driver said he loved my car (which I'd just gotten) and that he wanted one super, super bad.

I told him he couldn't have mine, he'd have to get his own.

So Bus Driver comes in here, sun at his back so all I can see is a dark silhouette of a man flapping his arms, and says, "Look! I got me one too!"

I was a bit stymied as to who this guy was and what he was talking about, but I finally figured out that it was Bus Driver.

"Look out the window!" He was waving enthusiastically for me to come see what he was talking about.

I came over and saw a green Corolla parked two cars down from my silver one.

"I got it on Saturday," Bus Driver said proudly. "I just loved the way yours looked so much that I had to get one."

We talked cars for awhile (which was hard for me since I don't know anything about cars, I just made stuff up) and then he left in his new, shiny green car.

I could hear Yoda saying, from the parking lot, "Proud you have made me. A convert we have won!"

So all y'all go out and buy Corollas.

Let's Start a New Trend: Walmart Walking

My mind works in mysterious ways, I do not deny.

The other day when we were having a really huge storm out, I decided to go to Walmart to buy a weather radio, since we don't have a TV and it's kind of hard to know when it's safe to come out of the dungeon basement. (Poor Dad doesn't necesarily want to be checking the weather every 5 minutes for us, either.)

In any case, as soon as I got in Walmart (which, I might add, is my least favorite store of all) the storm got much, much worse. I began to wonder if the roof would blow off. I decided that since I was already inside, I might as well stay in there to die rather than to die by being blown off the road.

I began walking laps.

I know it is considered normal to be a mall walker, but as yet I haven't heard of Walmart walkers. Perhaps I'm the first one.

After my first lap, I began to be curious as to how many laps of the ginormous store it would take before I hit a mile. I figured somewhere around 10. Just to be sure, I called my dad. He thought 5.

One of us was probably wrong.

If I had been thinking, I'd have figured it out right then. But I didn't know how long my stride was, nor did I bother to count my steps in a lap.

This brings me to this evening.

I decided to go figure this out once and for all. I had my human calculator (Joey, of course) measure my stride. Turns out that it's only 2 feet, which is exceedingly disappointing. I thought normal people were supposed to have a 3 foot stride, but perhaps it's just because I'm short.

The total number of steps came out to be 360, which is roughly 720 feet. Dividing that into 5,280, we can, therefore, conclude that it's about 7.33 trips around Walmart to walk a mile.

I did all this math on my phone, just so you know, so if it's wrong I blame LG.

For those of you who are about to become Walmart walkers, I hope this information is helpful. I do wonder, though, how you intend to do a .33 lap of Walmart. That entails much more math than I'm willing to help you with...

One Million Kisses

One day when Joey and I were driving to my parents' house, I got bored.

Generally I do not get bored, but sometimes in the car it does happen. So I decided I'd try to figure out something that had really, really been bothering me.

If someone was going to have a million kisses in their entire life, how many would they have to average every day?

Knowing, as some of you do, how bad I am at math I decided I needed to get out my calculator. So I turned to Joey and said, "Hey, how many kisses a day does it take to make a million in someone's life?"

Joey mumbled to himself for awhile.

"100," he said.

"HOLY COWS!!" I said, "100?! That's like....a LOT."

These figures are, of course, based on 25 years. If you intend to live for a really long time, you only have to get 55 a day in to hit your million.

By the way, all those parental kisses when you were little don't count. It only counts once you get married, so those of you little tricksy people who figure you'll go start tomorrow...think again.

I wonder if they'll make a kiss-o-meter (you know, like a pedometer?) to count them so people could know what they were up to. I dunno, it probably wouldn't sell.

Acting like Adults is No Fun

For our 11 month anniversary we decided to do something cheaper than going on an actual date at a restautaunt or museum or something. So we went to Heritage Park and threw a Frisbee around (which, I might add, I'm not much better at than I was last year. The winter off didn't help much) and then went to take a walk.

We found that the bridge over the creek was flooded, so like the naughty little kids we are, we dragged a bunch of big rocks from the side of the creek bed and dammed up the water.

Since I was still wearing work clothes and had gotten them throughly soaked/grass stained/muddy from dragging said rocks hither and yon, we decided the best thing to do was to get our water shoes and come back and finish in the morning.

We did, of course.

I was so excited about playing beaver that I, much to Joey's chagrin, woke up at 7:30 the next morning which was, of course, Saturday.

He recovered from his sleepiness once he got his feet in the freezing water, and an hour later, we had successfully dragged enough rocks over to really tick off the guys in the Parks and Rec department, who eventually get to put t hem all back. We had also dammed up half of the water flowing over the bridge.

It was quite a proud moment. And yes, that is the bottom half of me in the background. I think it really ruins the ambience of the picture, don't you?

Parakeet Travels

Last night was CSI. I like CSI because I get to hang out with Jamie. Sometimes I take the kids because Jamie likes birds too. She asked me to bring them yesterday, so I happily acquiesed.

About 7:30 I stuffed the kids into their travel cage. They scuttled around and chee-cheed at each other; they hate being in small spaces like that. Hoping it wasn't too cold outside, I began my walk.

I shouldn't have worried, I think it was 80 degrees with about 75% humidity. It was quite warm and there was a nice breeze, which the birds tolerated very nicely.

We walked along at a nice pace, the birds having sensory overload at all the new sights, sounds, and smells. They particularly enjoyed the Robbins chirping in the trees, which I thought was very cute.

I suppose it's not considered "normal" to walk down 1st street carrying a cage with 2 parakeets in it, but then who said I was normal in the first place.

I got many strange looks from people in cars/motorcycles, and several people who really, really looked like they wanted to stop and figure out why the heck some girl was dragging a couple of tropical birds around.

Jamie's roommate, Brooke, is afraid of birds. Poor thing, I didn't know she was going to be there or I wouldn't have brought the kids along. She gets afraid when they fly--kind of reminds me of Mom.

Maybe next time I'll take them to Hy-Vee and see what happens. Naah, I'd probably get kicked out.

(Sorry guys, it's a slow news day. The birds will have to suffice!)

FYI--Joey does NOT have Bird Flu. I don't even think Parakeets can get it. So to everyone who was worried (and I know there were a few of you...) put your minds at rest. No Bird Flu.

These are our Babies on the railroad tracks.

I came home yesterday and Joey had the birds on the back porch. They were in their little travel cage, which is fine, but he said, "I'm going to go take them to run around on the grass!"

Oh boy.

So I went with him for crowd control. The birds actually enjoyed their experience, but were afraid of the grass. They don't like being poked in the face, I guess. The railroad tracks were their favorite. Aren't they cute?

Poor, Poor Joey

What a day. It's is most definitely Monday.

I woke up at 5 and with the feeling that something wasn't right. It wasn't. First of all, I was awake at 5:00 and should have been sleeping, but second of all, only Bear and I were in my room. I thought, Hmm...I wonder what happened to Joey. I'll go try to find him and hopefully I won't scare him really bad like I did last time.

Last time I scared about 7 years off his life. I know now that it's a really bad idea to stand quietly directly outside the bathroom door, in the dark, at 3:45 in the morning "waiting my turn". It really scares Joey when he opens the door and sees a fuzzy something-or-other standing there.

But I digress.

This time I figured he was in the bathroom, so I stood off to the side over kinda by the kitchen so I couldn't be blamed for scaring another decade off his life.

I heard mysterious noises. It sounded like....teeth brushing. Oh no! I thought, That can only mean one thing.

Sure enough, the barf bug bit Joey sometime after 1am. Poor thing.

So I reset my alarm for 7, but wound up not sleeping for the next hour and a half. I felt too sorry for poor Joey, who had, by this time, worn a path in the carpet. So I grabbed a hoodie (with the hood most definitely up, to cover my bedhead) and headed off to HyVee.

I've never been to the grocery store before 7am, and I really don't care to do it again any time soon. Strange people in bright blue shirts are overly helpful and wind up coming across as overbearing and disturbing. I didn't care for the experience.

I was glad that I had a late meeting in Des Moines this morning, which got out early, so I could come back and check on poor Joey on the way up to work. Now I'm off in 8 minutes, so I should really stop writing.

I think Joey got the flu from our birds who, of course, have Bird Flu.

Bird Flu!

I guess I'm on a birds theme.

I think our birds have the Bird Flu. Serious. Their white feathers on their heads are turning yellow, and I was reading on some site the symptons of Bird Flu. Here they are:

• Irrational screaming at familiar objects
• Inability to eat seed without throwing most of it ground
• An insatiable appetite for Romaine lettuce, particularly that lettuce which has been thrown on the ground
• An unusual yellowing of the white-coloured features of the head
• Develops a propensity to try to escape captivity, particularly through screens

When I read those symptoms, my heart turned cold. Our Evil Birds have exhibited not simply ONE symptom, but ALL FIVE!!!

I feel I must explain.

We took out most of our Evil's toys so that they'd appreciate them more. We started putting them back in the cage several days later, but in different spots. Mr. Darcy cannot handle this. S/he runs up to the very familiar toy, screams at it while flapping her/his wings, and then runs away from it back to the "safe" perch.

Lately, the Evil Duo have been throwing seed on the ground by epic proportions. Then even go down there and EAT THE GOOD STUFF THROUGH THE BARS if it gets high enough! (The bottom of the cage is bars like the sides, and under the bars is a tray that's usually got newspaper in it...and that also fills up with seed that the Wasters throw down there.)

Every evening when I make our salads, I cut an extra piece of lettuce for the Tricksy Gnomes. They love baby Romaine lettuce best, but that's too expensive, so I just get regular Romaine. Anyway, that's not important. The Dingbats will immediately run down to the lettuce dish, fight over who gets to be closer, and then throw all the pieces of lettuce on the floor. Then they'll go down and eat them. They like it better if I get all the pieces they threw on the floor and put them back in the dish so they can throw them out again, but I rarely pamper them so.

Two days ago, Joey noticed that Whitebird's head was turning yellow. I scoffed at him. Yesterday, I noticed that not ONLY was Whitebird's head turning yellow, but so was Mr. Darcy's!!! This seems to be the most serious of all the symptoms, to me, and I think we'll have to report our birds to the place that takes Bird Flu information.

On Wednesday, we took the plastic off our windows because it was such a beautiful day. (Of course, it got back down to 30 two days later, but that's OK. We still had fresh air.) Whitebird, being the sinner that he is, decided that he wanted to escape from his loving parents. He flew, full speed ahead, to the open window, curtains fluttering in the breeze....and bonked into the screen. Whitebird was stunned, of course, and sat panting on the windowsill for a few moments. Then flew back to his cage where he proceeded to sulk for the rest of the evening.

So you see, I think our birds have Bird Flu. Joey and I will probably be the next to die from it.

Iowa Oddities

Seagulls, first of all, should not live in Iowa. There's no sea and I think that confuses the poor little things. Saylorville Lake does not qualify, in my mind, but for some reason, we have seagulls.

This morning, the poor things were really mixed up.

We've had quite a bit of rain lately and some of the fields have big wet patches in them. Now, granted, these wet spots can't be more than an inch or two deep, but they're definitely there.

As I'm driving to work this morning, I noticed something very, very odd.

I was driving past a nice, muddy field with several wet areas, and in the water stood about 25 seagulls. They were only in water up to the middle of their little bird-legs, but there they were, standing in it and thinking, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home". Who knows, maybe if they think hard enough, they'll get transported to an ocean somewhere.

I thought, Gosh, it's too bad those birds are so confused. I hope it's an isolated incident. Maybe they have Bird Flu?

As I came upon the next field, full of more, smaller water patches, I saw more confused gulls. As far as my eyes could see there was black dirt and small circles of white seagulls pretending an Iowa field pond was the sea.

Too bad they didn't remember they were about 5 miles from Saylorville Lake. I'd have told them, but I don't speak Bird too well.

At least my birds at home can't seem to understand me.

So anyway, I don't think it's Bird Flu, I think the seagulls just need therapy. Maybe we should invent a Seagull Therapy Buddy, what do you think Jamie? :)

Nothing To Say

Happy Monday, everyone.

Today I typed competencies ALL DAY LONG. It's been really exciting. I'm almost done with Social Studies...except I have to transfer it all back over to another document because I hate stupid AutoFormat. Screws everything up.

The hightlight of my day was my TB test and "employment physical". I had to go to make sure that I'm alive and am, indeed, sane enough to hold a job in such a stressful environment. (Turns out I'm sane enough to work, isn't that grand?)

TB tests hurt. They burn and whatnot. I'd rather not ever have one again. If I really get TB from the amount they shot in me...I'm going to be hosed.

Well, an hour, a blood sample, 120 pills of an antibiotic, and who knows how much money later, I was on my merry way back to work. Turns out I have a "raging skin infection". Good thing I had to go to the doctor to make sure I was sane in order to find out about that!

Well, that's all. I have to get back to formatting.

Always Think Before Speaking

I went on a walk after I finished cleaning my house. I saw several cool things, one weird thing, two disturbing things, and did one dumb thing.

The cool things were very cool. I saw a very plump robin and some guy that drove by and his licence plate had the last three letters of MEW. So, of course, I walked along saying, "mew, mew, mew" for awhile. Good thing no one was around to hear me.

The weird thing was that I saw an older lady (she was probably 70) wearing forest green gauchos, black nylons...and black ANKLE boots. She was really, really trying to be en vogue, but the nylons and ankle boots really tanked it for her.

The disturbing things were very disturbing. Some dumb guys in a Toyota yelled at me and honked, and I had even thought, "Oh, they're driving a Toyota. How nice for them." I guess not so nice. The other one was that I saw a little Shih-Tzu almost get run over by a big, black Dodge Dakota. I don't like those trucks anyway, but seriously. Watch the cool dog, buster.

And...the one dumb thing I did...

I was walking past this house and there was a rabid Chihuahua tied up outside. He saw me and started barking like he was insane, and barring his teeth at me. I said to him, rather loudly, "Good thing you're chained up, varmint."

Just as the owner came out and told the dog to be quiet. His name was Fuego. (The dog, not the owner.) A rather fitting name.

Anyway, I was traumatized that I was calling the guy's dog a varmint in front of him, so I walked really fast and got out of there.

Now I have to go, the liberry is closing and we're going to have a storm.

I'm in Cedar Rapids this morning. I woke up at 6, hung out with my parents, annoyed baby chickens, got scratched by a barn cat (right in the neck, it's really nasty), and gave Ernie a bath.

So far I'd say it's been a pretty productive day.