Success

Our holiday celebration was, to put it mildly, a rousing success. The kids had a great time. They ate and drank and opened presents -- and talked with each other and kept their computers shut and their music off (mainly). They acted like adults.

When we ran out of girl gifts, the girls gladly accepted boy gifts. When the pregnant girl, who had just been diagnosed with gestational diabetes, got a bag of candy and a tool, she quietly announced to the boy next to her that she could not eat the candy or take the tool home. She was under court order to live in a group home and they would consider the screwdriver set a weapon. So the girl on the other side of her said she would gladly trade her stuffed animal and her sunglasses for the screwdrivers because she had always thought having something around the house to use to repair things would be "neat." And the trade was made. When I asked the other girl, who got a flashlight and a screwdriver what she would do with them, she said her dad could use the tools to help fix the old car they had in the driveway and maybe then she could drive it -- "It's all good, Mrs. Hubby."

The freshman girl being given the stuffed dog (who when you petted him moved his ears and forelegs) was the last to be gifted. She thought, of course, that she was being left out of the celebration and she was struggling mightily not to cry. She's a very strange child, usually friendless -- and the others, who are pretty strange themselves on bad days, tolerate her but think she's weird. We waited until all the gifts were given, then asked if she remembered what she said was the ONLY thing she wanted for Christmas but could never have - and she screamed out "A puppy!" So she was sent on a hunt for the dog and when she found him (the kids pointed the way for her) she was so delighted. She got that dog out of the box and walked around having everyone pet him. She explained he needed a name and then she cradled him like a baby and that's when she discovered that pushing his tummy caused the movement and she was beyond happy. She left the room, dog clutched in her arms, wearing the biggest smile we've ever seen.

When our guests of honor arrived, they class cheered. They offered up notes of appreciation and a gift that they had arranged before hand -- NOT my arrangement, but theirs. When the principal showed up they made small talk. When the SPED administration showed up, they made small talk with them.

They ate until they were full but they did not eat up everything. In every single instance, they left a little of something on a platter. With the spaghetti they left enough for the Health Community staff to have lunch after them.

And they cleaned up. When third period ended, without my saying a word, two boys and five girls stayed behind. The boys moved back all the extra chairs to the staff room. The girls got out the trash bags and made sure all the plates and cups and wrappings were disposed of. We had moved all the desks into conversational groupings and now they put everything back into my four desk groups. We had set up the food in the community staff room right across the hall from me and once the staff had eaten they completely cleaned that room.

They gave me a round of applause at the end of the gifting. They sent Hubby lots of love and kisses. And they beamed with delight as they carried their gift bags away. And teen after teen hugged me and personally thanked me. It was a sweet ending to a lovely celebration.

I am beyond exhausted.

It's All Good

The foot feels wonderful! It's too bad I was so scared / busy to take care of the problem earlier. I assumed, based on past experience, that the cure was going to be at least as awful as the problem -- and for a couple of days much worse. Instead, just as the doctor promised, there was nearly no pain involved at all. My foot never hurt worse in the last 24 hours than the pain caused by the original problem. When Hubby helped me remove the huge bandage tonight so I could soak the foot and add the required medicated drops, I had no pain at all. None. I could see only slight bruising and the actual incision site looked clean and healing.

Also got through my last class tonight. Made the final presentation and heaved one huge sigh of relief.

At school today (Thursday) the kids assembled the faculty gift boxes -- 15 total. The theme this year was "Happy to be Home" and we had cookbooks, soup mixes, Godiva chocolates, Christmas ornaments, and calendars for everyone -- as well as really special fancy boxes to arrange the items in. The school psychologist said every time she saw one of my kids today they were just glowing.

Friday we do the celebration lunch -- Hubby has made a huge vat of spaghetti, the 40 gift packages are arranged under the tree, and we are set to entertain outside guests and selected members of the administration -- as well as the kids themselves.

Yes, I'm tired. But all this effort is worth it.

Ouch!

We spent the morning trying to work out something with the Lincoln. Hubby had it completely overhauled all through November and into December. We got to drive it for a week -- and that car was running so smooth and sweet and I even thought maybe I could drive it. But then something went wrong with the solenoid and the car started only sporadically. Once at Walgreens we had to call Triple A and get it started and then in front of the mechanics house (not his garage) Hubby had to call to get the car towed to the garage. Except they sent a brand new employee who loaded the car onto the flatbed, chained it down, and drove down the street where the Lincoln rolled off the flatbed onto Prospect Blvd -- kerplunk. Bent the frame, forced the right side tires sideways, and moved the entire engine forward (or maybe it was backward) a couple of inches. Now we have the insurance to deal with . . . and you know that no one is happy in this situation. The Lincoln is already super old, though the mileage is still reasonable considering (it's a 1991) and it did just get a new engine and many new parts. Hubby loves the car and is really holding out for a good offer from the tow company. So far out insurance company has been backing us.

In 45 minutes I trudge over to the foot / ankle specialist to get my MRSA looked at -- and I'm imagining the worst. I bet they decide to "cut" something -- on my foot -- involving needles and bruising and soreness. I've worked myself into a lather over it, of course. I'm hoping for the best - but deep down I'm expecting the very worst.

This just hasn't been my day. Insurance dickering and now doctoring. And I had to take a sick day from school to do it all.

Meanwhile we're driving around in the van Hubby purchased from the widow across the street who sold it to us after her hubby died this summer. The van has 250,000 miles on it -- a quarter of a million miles. My goodness. That's some mileage! Hubby has had all the joints refurbished and a tune up done -- s0 the van, though way too huge for me to drive safely -- runs pretty good so far. I just don't want it to be the only vehicle we have to get around in. Hopefully the garage's insurance will offer up a nice little settlement and we can begin the horror of looking for another Lincoln in as good a shape as ours was.

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7 p.m. Oh yes! The podiatrist took one look and got out the needles (4 of 'em), the scalpel, and the bandages. And two hours later he was done and I was hobbled.

Now I need a bath. And my hair washed. So I figured I'd put the foot in a baggie, seal it up, and just hop in the tub. Except at my age and girth I no longer hop anywhere. I got my right (the good one) foot in the tub and then realized the only way I could sit down was to put the left foot in, too -- or fall straight backwards into the tile. I stood there one-legged awhile, contemplating my predicament and then got out and pulled the plug. I'm not willing to unwrap the darned foot until tomorrow -- when I've been ordered to soak it and put "drops" on it that cost me an arm and a leg at the pharmacy (but not a foot, of course).

Christmas Destruction

Little Luie is nearly two years old. In dog years he's nearly an adult. He's behaving in more adult ways, too. He almost never has accidents indoors anymore unless his humans aren't being vigilant. He speaks his mind (Schnauzers DO talk -- just ask their owners) and lets you know his wants and wishes. He no longer chews up expensive shoes and more expensive eyeglasses or burrows in the trash unless . . .

And it's the unless that catches you off guard. Leave him home alone and everything in the house is fair game. Take him in the car, though, even if you must leave him alone for a couple of hours and he's fine. Gussie, of the even temperament and the innate desire to be the "good boy" never destroys anything -- his, Luie's or ours. But Luie, if left to his devices, has a natural curiosity he simply can't seem to control.

It's been cold here, bitterly cold. So the boys have had to stay home if we venture out places they can't go. The Chinese dinner last night was just such an occasion. I had carefully moved the kitchen trash to the top of the stove -- a place a blind Schnauzer cannot reach even on his best day. And we left for a two hour dine and chat with dear friends.

On our return, Luie had appropriated the stuffed Schnauzers from the top of the living room couch but otherwise the kitchen, living room, and bedroom were in neat array. Then I entered the computer room where I had stacked (on the floor -- but atop a huge pile of presents), the addressed Christmas cards, the still to be addressed Christmas cards, the printed Christmas letters, and on top of that -- a huge 10 pound box of chocolates we had found in Branson to give to one of the faculty members. Luie had lunged at the pile until he had toppled it. I'm sure the toppling must have scared him silly -- he'd not be sure what had fallen on him. But he quickly found that most of it was calendars and paper so he happily set to tearing off the cellophane on the calendars and rooting around among the cards until he smelled the chocolate.

Chocolate to most dogs is lethal -- AND addictive like crack cocaine. They crave it -- but can't stand it in their systems. When we opened the door on arriving home the house was strangely silent. Two wiggling, wagging, jumping boys were not there to greet us -- it took about 30 seconds before they both charged the door. Luie had just reached the stage on the chocolate box where he managed to get all the cellophane removed and had finally made inroads on the cardboard container -- BUT he not yet reached a single chocolate.

We helplessly looked at the disaster that was the computer room -- Christmas cards strewn everywhere, 10 calendars for teachers all unwrapped, and a 10 pound box of chocolates with the ends chewed off and the chocolate just peaking out. I sighed and began picking up the pieces. Hubby took the boys for a little walk and Luie pranced outside like he was king of the household.

It was a good thing we hadn't had dessert with our dinner. We each ate chocolates for a bedtime snack.

10 - 9 - 8

Well, Christmas IS more than ten days away, but our countdown has begun. Once the grad papers were typed, printed, and submitted (one to submit but it's written) then we could start Christmas preparations in earnest.

I spent the morning doing Christmas cards. I had thought I wouldn't bother this year. But I love the cards we still do get so much. I also love picking out the perfect card. I'm not so found of writing the cards and composing the letter. But once again, when I get a beautiful card with just a signature inside, I always feel disappointed. This year so far we've only gotten three cards, and of those, one came with a letter and pictures. The second card had a sweet drawing inside. The third was just a signature. I always feel so let-down when I don't learn about family news. So I sorted through the cards I purchased last year and I thought long and hard about the Christmas letter. In the end I went with a collage of photos from the year -- I think grad school had written me out. Then I began the assembly -- choose card, sign with simple message, fold letter (picture collage), seal, insert, stick on address label and return label and stamp. Repeat. This is truly a labor of love. I know that e-cards are more eco-friendly and gaining in popularity but it's just not the same opening e-mail as finding a creamy (or crimson) envelop in my mailbox and inside that a velum paper card with sparkles on it.

We started celebrating with a warm, loving and tasty Chinese share-all supper with dear friends tonight. We had the dinner for four or more (five in attendance) at the local Chinese eatery and we caught up and shared stories. Always a good way to start off the holiday countdown.

The presents are purchased, just not assembled into gift bags and sorted by person. The faculty gifts will be dragged into school on Monday and Tuesday so the kids can make gift baskets to distribute. Hubby is creating the "kid" gifts for every student from the presents we purchased in Branson and throughout the year. Some of my kids wouldn't have a Christmas without the little trinkets we give at school -- this way everybody has something to open.

On Friday we host a spaghetti lunch for the kids. Hubby brings in the main course and the kids bring what they can -- usually lots and lots of sweets, but it's the last day before the winter vacation so what's a little sugar high?

Over the following weekend we assemble Houston gifts but I wrap things in Houston. I've learned that unwrapped presents take up a lot less room in the car than protecting all that gift wrapping from snoopy dogs. On Monday we get the rental car, stop the mail, throw enough clothes for a week into the car along with the requisite gifts -- and we're off.

The time frame seems very short with lots to do. We may need to mainline the gin and tonic while singing along with "White Christmas" to make it through.

Kaput!

I just typed the last few phrases into my next to final paper for grad class. Whew! I feel so relieved. It only ran 30 pages -- I thought it might go longer. I have one form to send home from my school computer to paste into the adendum and I'm all wrapped up. The final-final presentation is already in the can -- created, printed, and copies run for the class (because we have to stand up and present the dang things). This time around I'm not sweating out the grades -- so far I have 100% in the class, so even if I blow this final paper, I should be okay.

I'm not taking a spring course. Instead I'm concentrating of building curriculum for the two English classes I'm teaching. Spring semester will be English 1 second block and English 2 fourth block. The English 2 class is pretty large but I know a lot of the kids already so that will help. The English 1 class will be the pain in the patoot. These are really, really low Special Ed kids and I'm not the most patient of people. I may need to take up meditation. I'll also be collaborating in American History.

Our weather is blasting cold air. We were predicted to have a heavy snow, once again the really awful weather skirted us and we only got a misting. I'm going to have to dig out the thermals for tomorrow morning at 5 a.m. though.

Never Post When You're Tired -- and the Osmonds Get Me Readers

Yes! To every responder from the last post.

Yes. I do not recall the exact first name of the any of the Osmond Brothers from the Branson show -- and I didn't look them up. The only one I know is Donny. And Maria but she's not a brother. And they both were in Vegas. Not in Branson.

Yes. Rolls are NOT roles. Silly me. You eat rolls. The Osmond who came for the rolls did play a role in the show. I clearly do not know his name. He had white hair. A lot of it.

Interesting to have so many anonymous readers. I never knew . . . I don't keep stats, I have no idea how many times this poor little blog is accessed, and lately I haven't been posting. I write only for me and the "family" so if you happen along, please respond nicely. My feelings get hurt easily (NOT!). Actually, just finding responses is kind of cool. So write anything you want. I've been teaching for 26 years now -- my hide is so tough I can't even see the slings and arrows, much less feel 'em.

No posts lately because grad school is kicking my butt. Big time. It's awful the amount of work required in the last four weeks of this semester. Up to now things haven't been bad and so, of course, I should have been doing the work all along (writing massive papers) but I wasn't and I haven't and I didn't . . . and now I'm overwhelmed. I did the final, final paper for a final presentation over the weekend but I have a huge project due on Thursday. The final presentation is due a week from Thursday. I'm not so worried about the grade this time -- I've gotten 100% on everything so far.

Last Friday I got diagnosed with a mild case of MRSA. My doc says he's been seeing a whole lot of these skin infections lately. I've got a referral somewhere to a specialist to have the offending problem looked at . . . but I've got to get this grad stuff done first and I've misplaced the referral. The infected area is on my foot so I just can't wear pretty shoes -- which I don't do anyway anymore and it only hurts when something touches it.

The school kids are hyped for Christmas. We put up the classroom tree and strung the fairy lights everywhere and we plan a big party for the last week -- with the 20 boys. Should be interesting . . .

We've read over half of Huck Finn and boys are really into it. They can even identify irony now without a prompt. That's a real achievement!

The Houston presents are ready for Christmas travel if I can just remember where they all are stashed when we're packing the car. Thank goodness sister-in-law does all the decorating. That WOULD be the last straw.

So mea culpa on the previous post. I'm NOT fixing it. The comments about it were just too priceless . . .Happy Holidays everyone!