That's what I get...

After spending a good little bit feeling sorry for myself, I wind up with a job... kind of.
I'll be back to my inner-city high school filling in for a lady who is out recovering from surgery.
It'll be maybe a month of subbing for her. That'll be way nicer then just showing up at random schools pretending to know what I'm doing.
Except... I won't really know what I'm doing.
My assignment is to teach Foods 10 and Re-Entry Math 9 (don't ask... let's just hope that means we'll be at the same level in math).
Hmmm... my week just became a little more adventurous.

Sulky

Today is the first teacher prep day of the school year. This is the day teachers across our fair city "officially" (meaning they get paid for it) go back to their classrooms after a peaceful summer.
Normally, I like spending this day cleaning, re-arranging posters and desks. I also like to go over curriculum and photocopy like crazy.
Sadly, I am at home... feeling sorry for myself.
I'd really like to be teaching. It's sort of my thing. I get pretty feisty about the causes of the First World War. I miss looking up French Top 40 songs. I really like trying to imagine what kinds of drama games kids in the hood would actually want to play. I miss my fill-in-the-blank lecture about the history of psychology (I always got a kick out of showing kids pictures of trepanning).
Maybe somebody will hire me yet.
If not, I'll try hard to be the best darn sub in the city.

Eeeek!

Eeeek! I was outside, watering my compost (like a good little compost geek) when I felt something scurry by my feet. Thinking Fergus had escaped, I looked down. To my chagrin, there was a little brown mouse running under my compost. Eeeek! In a moment of panic, I watered him with my hose.
I feel betrayed. I love my compost. I am close to ridiculous about it. I have followed all the rules about what foods to include and what foods not to include. My compost eats a lot of kitchen scraps, baby weeds, grass clippings and other good things approved of my handy-dandy compost book.
I looked up "trouble-shooting" in my little book. The only way that my compost should be attracting vermin is if I put inappropriate foods in it. Foods like meat or dairy products. Blech! I have not done that.
My brother-in-law had a good idea. He thinks I should release Fergus. Fergus is very adept at killing his toy mouse. That thing has died a million deaths already. I'm just not ready to let my little cat outside yet. I'm afraid he'd run away and become one of the strays the Humane Society picks up.
I think I'll look for those mouse traps we got as a wedding present. We giggled nervously then and commented on the oddness of the gift; but, here I am, one year later, "eeeeking" over a mouse.
Fortunately, this thing is in my yard and not my house.

Below Ground

I've been putting it off all summer.
I have pulled weeds until my fingers were blistered to get out of doing this.
I'm afraid of what's down there.
Today, I started to sort my basement.

My mother was thrilled when we got a house because then, all the weird stuff I've accumulated over the years and have stored in boxes in her basement, will move to our basement.
Porcelain dolls (that I hated even when I was little and felt guilty about not playing with).
Old Archie comics.
University textbooks.
Weird, smelly stuffed animals (that I felt guilt not playing with because I thought they were ugly).
Ceramic Andy and Annie dolls, ceramic clowns and ceramic cows???? What kind of kid was I?
Books galore.
Wedding presents that we're still unsure of.

The list goes on.

We'd like to move Fergus' food and litter box downstairs. We'll have to wait until he can handle stairs. I'd kind of like to have some organization down there before it becomes a cat lair.

Good thing it's been a rainy day. I'd hate to be below ground on a sunny day.

Welcome Fergus

Late last night, we took a drive out of city to a friend's farm to pick out a kitten. Yes, I said a kitten. Finally, I am allowed to have a kitty. It took a year of convincing Trevor but, we've got the kitty now and there's no going back.
Fergus is a little ball of orange and white fluff. He thinks we're scary and he acts tough by hissing at us and burrowing himself into a corner. However, he purrs really well when we pick him up and cuddle. Last night, he meowed for his mommy pretty much all night. I felt guilty and sad for him. Fergus just learned how to drink from a bowl. He's litter trained (cross fingers) and he's starting to be playful. Today should be adventurous for us.
I have about a week and a half until school starts again (still no contract... eeek...) and I hope that will give him enough time to get used to life in our world.

Back from Menno-toba

Last Tuesday, Trevor and I packed our bags and headed east to visit Trev's relatives in Manitoba.
In my family, when my mom, her sisters and their families get together, it's usually been so long (22 years) that we hire a photographer.
In Trevor's family, visiting and keeping in touch is important.
We spent a few days with Oma and Opa living the retired lifestyle. We slept in, read, played games, walked, ate, ate and ate some more. We were able to visit 18 relatives in just 3 days! I'd say that's pretty impressive!
Friday, we jumped in our car and headed to Clear Lake. It was such a gorgeous location. The first night, it poured rain. Our little tent stayed dry. Saturday, it rained off and on. We still managed to hike and tour around a bit. We were a little sad not to swim and be beach bums.
Yesterday, we drove home.
I feel a little sick. I'm not quite myself right now. Too bad I'm a guide at VBS this week so I can't sleep in or slack off too much!

Attack of the Maternal Aunties

This weekend, both of our mothers' sides of the families decided to have family gatherings. This meant a little coordination on our parts. We managed to make it to the bulk of both (and a wedding). We thought it would be a little stressful and perhaps somewhat awkward but, after having survived, we've decided that this weekend was a blast.
I really enjoyed getting to spend more time with Trevor's family. They are lots of fun and they are very caring.
It was good to introduce Trevor to my elusive cousins who I haven't even seen in the past 10 years. There was lots of catching up!
Family is good.

A summer memory

Dallas Valley Ranch Camp - 1998
Jill, a 19 year old counselor, Tyler, a 16 year old wrangler and Christopher, a 10 year old staff kid are sitting on a hill on a starry summer's night. We're waiting for the campers to come and play Mission Impossible (a great game where staff gets to torment kids with flashlights). We love just sitting and hanging out. We catch up on our weeks and we talk about what qualities we'd be looking for in a person to marry. Tyler and I are always good for secret sharing and we promised Christopher a pummeling if he revealed anything we said. Week after week, summer after summer the three of us did that.
Five years ago, Tyler married the girl of his dreams who moved down to his area of the world to ranch.
Last year, I married the boy who always made me laugh and told campers his version of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
This Saturday, Christopher will marry his beautiful blond. I can't believe how grown up we've all become.