Rambling and Random...

For those of you watching the numbers,

Gas today was $2.12.

Which is a dang good thing, since the latest definition of rich is now $120,000. Less than half of the $300,000 original definition of rich you were lulled into a false sense of security with at the beginning of the campaign.

Watch out middle class, they're coming for us next.

Yes, this means you.

* Nov. 3rd, 2008 at 8:49 PM

Dear men in my life,

You know I know.

When you yell out, "where is my . . . (whatever thing that belongs to you that you can't find because it's wherever you last dropped it)," that no matter how nicely or politely, I still know what you really mean --

"Please drop whatever you're doing and come serve my every need."

And sometimes I don't even get the please.

{Xpost LJ}

Okay, someone finally just set me off today. Not for any particular reason, except that I'm sick and irritable, and likely to be downright honest when I don't have the energy I normally put into biting my tongue and smiling and letting people say whatever they want about politics, no matter what.

I will admit that our choices for President are woeful. but. I will not vote for anyone going around spouting shit around about wanting to spread the wealth. Or taxes being patriotic. Bull shit.

And I don't care that someone claims he's going to share my "wealth" in order to "narrow the gap" between the shameless, evil rich {which apparently means anyone who's worked hard enough their whole life long to have been able to have more than two nickles to rub together}, and the more noble poor. {which means WHOM, exactly?} That's supposed to be laudable.

It's laudable if he's going to do it by helping the poor to better their situation. Not so much if he intends to "narrow the gap" by taking from me.

And even tho I can't afford to send my boys to college without the excellent scholarships they got, and we consider ourselves just average middle class, because we can just afford to live in (with a mortgage which we made sure we could actually afford before we got) a house in the mid-price range in AL (which would be the price of a shed in California), Obama's economics places us in his evil rich category. He might not like the socialist/communist label, but that's what he's proposing.

So, just like I'd like the government to keep its damn laws off my body, I'd like it to keep its damn laws and programs off my stuff, too.

If I want to help others, I do so by my choice. MINE. I give money to The Church, which is excellently efficient in its work around the globe, or to a worthy cause, like Habitat or the Red Cross (which also gets my blood every 8 weeks) or I'll take in a foster child, or do volunteer work with the Autism society or at the library. But letting some government bureaucrat get ahold of my money because he claims he's going to do good with it? Come on, how naive would I have to be?

{XP LJ}

Apologies to those who saw this as my comment to Mara's poll on Music Technology, but as I wrote it, I realized I should put it here, to remind myself of what I've seen change.

God I'm old.

I owned a first version, brand new on the scene, big, clunky, cassette playing Walkman (I think a lot of people who answered that they owned one are thinking of version 2, that was much smaller. Mine was big, like about 7in x 4in, and blue). I remember the first time I put a tape in, and put the headphones on, and the Walkman in my backpack, and actually tried to walk across campus with music playing in my ears. It was truly surreal. I felt caught up in some strange ballet. I couldn't help but impose the rhythm and feel of the music on the world around me. It took a long time before I was able to just casually walk around wearing the Walkman. And to do that, I had to at first turn it way down, so it sounded more like something coming to me from 'outside.' That feeling of music coming from the middle of my brain, combined with trying to move around in a moving environment was, well, surreal is the best word. Or dream-like. Or borderline like tripping. And yes, Id listened to music through good headphones before. I knew the sound was going to seem to be in the middle of my head. But before, when I'd used good headphones, it would be specifically to listen to the music. Sitting still, tethered to a good sound system. This business of adding a soundtrack to my walking around life -- that was new.

Yes, I owned an 8Track, and yes, I used my dad's reel to reel plenty (my favorite tape was Kenny Rogers and the First Edition).

And yes, we owned a Victrola, and maybe fifty of the super thick 78's. But it was a collector's piece, and we only played the records for the novelty of it.

Ancient, yes, I am.

Okay, this is just sinful. There is no just no other word for it. I went out tonight with all the kids to a Mexican Restaurant. Mat graced me with his presence for a while today. It was wonderful. We got all caught up. Then he went over to get Rhiannon, and Thomas and Shelby and I met them at a local Mexican Restaurant. It was much too tasty. I believe that my stomach is actually distended. Somewhere after the sopapilla, when I was trying to enjoy my second Dos Equis, I realized that I was full in a way I'd never been full in my life. I just knew that if I tried to send one more sip down my throat, chaos and destruction would ensue. I had to abandon 2/3rds of a beer just sitting on the table. No one but Rhiannon was old enough to drink it in public, and she's just not the beer type.

So now I'm sitting here, miserable, and almost asleep, because I stayed up until 3am last night reading Fledgling. An interesting Vampire mythology so far. I'm not sure if I loveit or not. I've read about half the book. It's written in a pretty simplistic, first person POV. The narrator is supposed to be a 53 year old vampire "child" who's been severely injured and thus remembers nothing before waking up trying to heal. Thus the simplistic style. Like I say, interesting, but I'm not sure if it's one I'll keep.

Well, it was exhausting! We spent most of it in the car. —The rental car. Shelby was already here, there were transportation problems, so we brought him home with us last night. So he was here for breakfast, which he thought I was going to cook for him (ha). But he found food and ate.

We took Thomas to class, and then Shelby and I went to look at a 1980 Cutlass Supreme. It was grand! Back when cars were still cars. You could have put 4 people in the back seat, and they wouldn't have had to touch each other. Bench seats in the front, gears on the column, it was just fabulous. Shelby really really wants me to buy it, but I'm not sure. It's cool, and I just want it to drive when I don't have any other car, but I remember how hard it was to park my 1975 Chevrolet Caprice Classic, (I had it in college, early 80's) and in those days parking spaces were bigger than now. We stopped at a gas station to get Coke and Dr. Pepper, and Shelby got peanuts and put them in the coke bottle. It was a flashback to my past. My dad did that too.

We dashed home to pick up Thomas's best friend, Matt R. He's bowled with us before, and everybody just loves him. By then it was time to pick Thomas up and get over to the bowling alley. Shelby just fit right in with Thomas's Asperger's group. It was a big group this time. 12 of the young adults, and 5 of us parents. Then Cheeburger, Cheeburger, for heartattack on a plate burgers. Thomas got his food early, and he and I had to leave while everyone else was waiting for food. Leaving Matt & Shelby with the group, Back to the restaurant, to take Matt home in time. Back to UAH to get Thomas. Finally home for a rest. Or not. Shelby was still keyed up and talkative. He's high energy, that kid.

Saturday we tried to catch our breath from Friday. Then Shelby wanted to go out for chinese buffet food. I agreed, because I can actually afford to feed two giant teenage boys there. My vet was there, and he knew about Shelby and came over and introduced himself and shook hands with him and Thomas.

After lunch we went to the thrift store to drop things over and Shelby found an old reel to reel projector from the 60's - 70's.

We also went to the KIA dealer to check out this buy a minivan get a Rio free. Well, the van is grossly overpriced, and the little car has no airconditioning and no radio! I told the sales boy that I was sure it was illegal to sell a car in AL without air. Besides that, the boys couldn't even get IN the back seat! Thomas squeezed into the driver's seat, but his legs were crunched up to the steering wheel. He has to have legroom. He's so tall that when he crashed the Versa, the airbag didn't even touch him, he was so far back.

I fed them spagetti for supper, and met Shelby's emergency foster mom to give him back.

I NEEDED Sunday to recover. This is one unbelieveably high energy kid! Really sweet, and eager to please, but horribly immature, and not well educated. I'll comment on him more later.

My darling was gone for all of this, he left Friday AM to go to North Carolina to hang off of a cliff.

Poor Thomas, He had a bad wreck at rush hour. His fault, of course, he rear-ended a van. No one hurt, but the car is most certainly a total loss. If you'd like to see before and after pictures, go to my Live Journal acct, here: http://sherron0.livejournal.com/53845.html

Apparently, I'm not allowed to upload pictures to Insane Journal

Or why I never got into the stock market. Around here we still have gas, but places are running out. The Kangaroo, the biggest station around, ran out Thursday. Kroger, who'd also been selling it at reasonable prices ran out yesterday. Kangaroo had been asking people to only get 10 gallons (not a problem, since mine only holds 10.5g if the-out-of gas light has been on all day). Kroger, a little less trusting of human nature, just blocked off two of their eight pumps so that selling it went more slowly. At least that was my take on the blocked off pumps, which did not say out of gas.

Prices around here range from $4.99 to $3.59 (actually the lowest I've seen was $3.49 at the Kangaroo, but you see what happened to them) in a random sort of way, it seems. And fluctuate wildly.

So it's like the stock market, with the added thrill of actually NEEDING the gas. Do you buy at $3.89 right by the house, or hope that it's less over by the store you're going to? Thomas and I paid $4.05 – which was very cheap on Thursday, after Kangaroo closed down and gas stations realized they could charge what they want. It was late in the evening, but I had an early doctor's appointment the next day, and he had been driving all day on empty, light glowing. So we bought the 10.5 gallons @ $4.05. Next day, on the way to the doctor it had dropped to $3.99. Then $3.89 by evening on Friday, and then they were out by the time Thomas went to get the pizza Saturday evening. I'm wondering about others, like Min in Nashville, in cities, running out, and how high is the little bit of gas available? And is it fluctuating as wildly?

Oh, and what's all this about being dependent on foreign oil, if one hurricane, in the USA, can cause all this?

Would it be much worse, much faster if it were one of our middle eastern suppliers? And it makes me revisit my thoughts on the war in Kuwait, where every one was screaming, "it's just about the oil!" You know, even if that was the only reason, if it was to keep what's happening now from happening then, on a much larger scale, I say get out there and protect our oil interests.

"Home Visit"

* Sep. 19th, 2008 at 8:05 PM

A euphemism for home inspection. But it went well. She seemed favorably impressed with the facilities, the zoo, the boys, and the Keeper (me).

I've been cleaning, emptying that room where you put things that you don't know what to do with, so it can be Shelby's bedroom. The most difficult has been the closet, which I'm not through with. I have thrown out and or given away at least a room's worth of stuff. Because some of the stuff (furniture) that moved out of there had to be put somewhere else, which meant we had to move something to make room, and on and on. Mark said he felt like we were in one of those tile-moving puzzles.

I finally got a "scrapbook" put together as a slide show and printed it out on card stock and bound it, for her to take to Shelby, so he will get a (falsely clean and organized) idea of us. It turned out pretty well. I may try to figure out how to add the slide show to the Ostrander website.

So our first in home visit with Shelby will be next Friday, Sept.26th. We will meet at the bowling alley and bowl with the Asperger's Young adult social group. Then Cheeburger, Cheeburger for food, then we take Thomas back to class for an hour, and I have no idea what Shelby and I will do, then home. If he's still comfortable, he'll stay overnight. I'm both excited and terrified. Mark, of course, won't be here, because he'll be rappelling off some cliff in N.Carolina as a warm up for Bridge Day.

So now, after an exciting day [ TB test, taking Mark to work so I can have the car t get to the AS support Luncheon, then back to pick up Mark, to come home for the home visit] I've moved on to the wine and relax portion of the evening. Whoo.

Who was it that gave me the wonderful "box of kitchen gadgets" idea? Mara G maybe?

I put all the things from two drawers and two flower pots (tey make lovely holders for wooden spoons and such) in a box. And told the guys that they could keep anything they used in the next month. And that if it wasn't worth digging in the box for, they didn't really need it.

A couple of things came out immediately e.g., spatulas and spatulas. Both the egg turning kind and the cake mix scraping kind. Why do those have the same name? anyone know? And I took out a couple of things that I don't use that often, but do use, and for which there is no substitute. Like my boiled egg slicer. Shoot me, I like my boiled eggs sliced in dainty little circles and lightly salted and peppered. And one of the potato/carrot peelers. But just one of them. And a couple of large serving utensils that we only use at big holidays, but do use them then. However, said large utensils went down to the storage closet to live with their matching bowls, trays, and fancy napkins.

And I'm going to rescue one of the the three sets of measuring spoons. Probably the one that actually has all the spoons still. No one's used one in a month, but that's the kind of thing that when you do need one, there is no subtitute.

So it's been a month, and there's still LOTS of stuff in the box. It turns out that I had 17 spatulas (batter scraping kind) and I'm now down to four, in different sizes/shapes.

I had 4 whisks. Haven't used one this month, but I think I'll keep one. I do use one every once in a while.

I have things left in the box that I can't quite identify. It's kind of scary, but nice to actually be able to find what I'm looking for in a drawer now.

When in danger, or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout.

I'm having a home visit/inspection next Friday. I've got to get enough things out of what will be Shelby's room to at least put up the bed!

Right now I am definitely at the much-worse-before-it-gets-better stage.

Here I sit, waiting for a friend to drive out of her way to pick me up, because once again I'm stuck here without a car. I've got to get this car thing figured out. I can't complain to Mark, because he'll just want to make Mat give us back the Reno. And now that they're living out in the burbs, he really needs a car. I may just have to break down and buy some piece of junk until I'm ready to go into debt for a real car.

I just can not believe the amount of paperwork involved in becoming a foster parent. And how I can not find some of it. As I asked in Facebook, how is it that I can still find Thomas's kindergarten fingerprints, my college ID, the sales contact from the Colt (bought in 1989, given away in Katrina), and the expired passports for both boys, but I can't find my Social Security Card, or the current vaccination records for the dogs? I never throw anything away, unless I'm going to need it this week.

I guess I haven't mentioned that we're taking in a foster child. Not something I ever thought I would do, honestly. But this specific child, well, it just had to be.

I found out about him through someone at DHR who found me as a contact in this area for Asperger's. She'd been looking all over for a "placement" for this young man. His name is Shelby, He's 19 (In fact, his birthday is one day after Thomas's), and has Asperger's, and is over 6' tall, like Thomas. It seems that it's harder to find a placement for a big teenage boy. I sent the info and request out to my lists, and such.

Then I started thinking about how really, we were the perfect place for him to be. For various and sundry reasons. (our experience with AS, we knew what it was like to have to teenage boys, and one of those was completely out of the house now, so we had the room and all, etc) I approached Mark, and somewhat to my surprise, he was immediately on board. Then, of course, I asked Thomas how he felt (and if had had the least amount of negative feeling about it, of course it would have been a no go). He thought it was fine, might be fun, he could be the big brother, etc. Thomas is much more socially/emotionally advanced than Shelby, since Thomas has had intervention and training and support since he was a baby, while Shelby was undiagnosed until later, and then there has been all that being shuffled around in the system. so maybe he could be mentor. And since Shelby is the "talky" kind of AS, he might bring Thomas out a bit.

Yes, we've met him. All three of us went over there (the county next to ours) and we met at DHR. He's a really sweet kid. yes, quite tall, and big, and he has light red hair. He seemed to like us, and thought he'd like to be our foster child.

So now, we are in the process of 11 weeks of classes, having our fingerprints sent to the FBI and the ABI, and being checked out in the Child Abuse Network, and trying to get our house to the safety standards necessary to be foster parents [if everyone had to do this to be parents, there'd be alot fewer babies born, and no need for DHR], and filling out paperwork, paperwork, paperwork, and taking pictures of the house and all the pets and things, so that Shelby will have an idea of what he's getting into, and vaccinating all 4 house cats, and I'm going to have to replace my lost Social Security Card, so they can have a copy on file, and on and on. And I have to clear out the bedroom I'm giving him, which is not Mat's, I didn't want Mat to feel to replaced, but is that room where we put things we can't find a spot for, or are "temporarily" there for say the last five years... and get a bed/mattress/etc.

Since Shelby's still classified as a child, I have to make my home safe enough for a 5 year old. There's only one set of standards for children (another for infants), so that's what I have to go by. Things you wouldn't think to do for a teenager, like locking up all the cleaning chemicals. The minimun standards book is only 69 pages. In the end, all this cleanup and lock up won't be a bad thing, it'll give us an excuse to go through things we'd been avoiding in that extra room, and get stuff out of the garage and thrown away -- like maybe 15 cans of paint, each either completely dry or with an inch of paint in the bottom, and many of them moved from our previous house!

So, speaking of all that kind of stuff, I better get on with it. I promised myself I'd get a lot done this weekend.

Remember those cute little fish that are born pregnant and so easy to raise? At least that's how I remember them from years ago when I last had a tank. Evidently they are not as hardy as I recall.

Thomas and I have a well established, well filtered, well aereated 35 gallon (30 gal actual water vol.) community tank. Ammonia is 0 ppm and pH is 6.8. We have 10 tetras, a rasbora, 2 minnows, and 3 tiny dwarf bottom feeders, some sort of catfish, I think.

Over the weekend, a week ago, we added 6 guppies. 4 (2 male, 2 female) on Friday, from a specialty aquarium shop, and 2 (a pair) on Sunday from PetSmart. By Monday, one of the Friday fish (male) was dead. By Friday, I was down to 3 surviving fish -- the male from PetSmart, and a pair from the shop. This morning, the female is dead, and her male is on the bottom, and will be dead before noon. There are absolutely no signs of fungus, or any marks at all. No warning, except they spend their last few hours with their tails seemingly locked, and trying to swim along the bottom.

I'm at quite a loss.

Turned out to just be mostly long and boring. (Should have made Min pick me up on her way to DragonCon. *g*)

Mark left Friday morning for "Pupfest" --a caving/camping outing every Labor Day instituted by a caver named, you guessed it, "Pup". It's a big thing, peole come from 3 or 4 states, and one flew in from Canada. And he didn't get back until late Monday, and I just missed him horribly. More than I anticipated. We're usually just fine for a few days apart (remember I spent a good deal of the summer in TN), but this time, even tho Thomas was here, I just felt lonely. Maybe it was the last straw for too many days spent apart this summer. Appearantly, he missed me too, because the highlight of the holiday was Monday night, just the two of us.

And I didn't just sit around all weekend. I was busy doing "fun" stuff, it just wasn't distracting enough.

On Saturday, Thomas got me up fairly early for a Saturday. I'd mumbled something the day before about bookstore.... So we spent the day doing the "girlfriend" thing (if your girlfriend is a geek). Best Buy, Hobby Lobby, Barnes & Noble, The Fret Shop (they sell violins, etc.).

And in the middle somewhere, we ate out at a little restaurant called the "Wild Flour Bistro" which was not what I was expecting, and way more expensive than I was expecting, but what the heck. I thought it would be a little specialty cafe, maybe feature bread products, or not, sort of like The Atlanta Bread Company, but not a chain. But it was very fancy, real table cloths, hovering waiters, and entrees like 'Rack of Lamb.' We both had Prime Rib au jus (the special) and desserts. He had Keylime cheesecake, and I had a hot fudge and Grand Marnier sundae with pecans, real whipped cream, and a cherry. I had both the house red wine (forgot the name) with dinner, and coffee with dessert. Both were excellent. you can tell oodles about a restaurant by the coffee. And the bathroom was spotless. I may get Mark to dress up and go with me sometimes.

Thomas was embarrassed about being under-dressed, but I assured him that the restaurant experience just wasn't what it used to be, and most people would be causally dressed. And it was very early, so we were one of the first 2 parties there. (I was "business casual" but he was just khakis and a Tee.) Not long after a group of four walked in with their shorts and tees, looking like they'd come straight from the yardwork. Don't get me wrong, I'm not as much of a snob as that sounds. I just come from a time when going to a restaurant was a treat, a special occasion, worth getting cleaned up for, not just something that happened 4 days a week because no on has time to cook. And if you were going to (knowingly) pay those kinds of prices, dressing for the occasion makes it just that much more special, and worth the money.

And Sunday my older son graced us with his presence because he needed me to go to the phone store with him to get a replacement for the phone he'd broken. I was glad to see him, and find out about classes this fall, etc. I just wish he came for more reasons than need. We all miss him. And Rhiannon manages to find time to visit with her family. It's difficult to watch him struggle with things that I could show him the easy way for, if he'd just ask. And yes, I have to wait until he asks. Remember how well you listened to all that unsolicited advice your parents gave you? No matter how many times or how I say it, I can't convince him that independent does not mean the same thing as alone. Far from it. Knowing when and how to ask for help is a key part of achieving maturity.

Mat spent a good amount of time complaining about money, and lack there of. Which I'm NOT helping him with, since he's in financial straits because made a series of bad decisions that he'd been warned were not going to turn out well, and still insisted on. Ever since he was able to talk, my method of discipline was "natural consequences" because, turns out, that's Life's main teaching tool, as well. I'm not going to just throw him to the wolves, and he knows that. He knows that if it gets THAT bad, he can come to me. Or he could come to me now with a reasoned arguement or proposal for loan or raise in allowance. But I am not going to offer that. And he knows that he created his mess, and that his parents, like the future "Real World," expect him to figure it out as best as he can.

Anyway, since he was talking budget shortfalls and all, Thomas says, "Oh mom! We need to help him save money by taking him out to a restaurant for dinner tonight." That Thomas, he'll do Anything for a meal out. I gave him the eye, because Mat and I both knew that Thomas cared nothing about Mat's money problem, except that it would be useful to help him get to go out the second night in a row. I really didn't care, so I told Mat to ask Rhiannon and come up with a restaurant, since she has dietary restrictions (gluten free) and they're both vegetarian. We ended up at Applebee's. It was good, and fun. And if you're there and don't know what to get, Applebee's makes an excellent onion soup.

But the highlight was Mark coming home. As I was not falling asleep Saturday night, I actually considered going with him next year. Yes, I'm actually contemplating camping. I must love him more than I thought. But I am NEVER repeat NEVER going into a cave without being sedated to the point of unconsciousness. I will NEVER love Anyone that much!

Finally, we have moved on to the wine and relax phase of the week. It's been an overly eventful and not-quite-emergency filled week. But we survived around here.

And my mother today, went to Lee's grave (Robert E.,for those who don't automatically know) and saluted the general. Who knew. She's never expressed any interest in or knowledge of the Confederacy before.

She's touring Virginia, headed to Monticello, and having a blast, calling me every evening to report.

Well, last night she called me to come up with the name, group, and more verses of that Vietnam-era song that has the line "Hey now, what's that sound, everybody look what's going 'round." Remember she and my stepfather aren't that much older than me, so he was in the war, and I was around 7 at the time (they married when I was nine, my Dad was23). But I was listening to their music. She said of all the people she knew, she was certain I'd be able to tell her. I said, "of course, mother dear, would you like me to play it for you?"

Anybody want to guess? You have all the info I had, because she couldn't even sing the two lines she remembered.

Stalling......

Oh, and in the spirit of cross-generational music, my kids have also always listened to my music, which by the way is still popular, proof that they have come up with nothing worth listening to. So, anyway, Thomas had overheard me repeat the two lines, and as the first two notes came out of my tiny little speakers, he said, "that's it."

And the winner is, For What it's Worth by Buffalo Springfield. Well, honestly, I couldn't remember the title, just that the title wasn't in the song. And that I had it on iTunes, and it had something to do with Stephen Stills. He wrote it for the group. It was released in 1967, but was popular as a protest song for the rest of the war.

And yes, my mother often calls me up for the answer to just such trivia. Often it is a crossword, but this one was just from the two of them being together in a car too many hours in one day.

Today's been one of those days where I can't get anything done simply, because there's always something else in the way. For instance, I couldn't even just sit down with a cup of tea to plan the day, because it turns out the sugarbowl is empty. And so is the canister. So it's down to the basement, where, just by luck, sugar is one of my "overstock" items. At least I didn't have to drive to the store and buy sugar. And YES, the first cup of morning tea IS that important, and NO, I can't drink it plain, it must have a spoon of sugar, and a splash of heavy whipping cream.

Then onto things like, I can't mail my letter because I'm out of envelopes (I have not driven to Staples yet).

In fact that's another one of the things. I can't drive to do my errands because of Thomas needing the car for school.

Get the general picture? I'm thinking about just throwing myself on the mercies of the fates, and just playing video games.

Well! We finally moved on to the Happy part of the Happy Birthday. We went to Lowe's to get one of my presents (DO NOT LAUGH! There are lots of good things at Lowe's) and went from there to Chili's, where I began the wine portion of the evening. Finally, the migraine completely went away. I should have had Chili's Molten Chocolate Cake and a couple of glasses of wine for breakfast.

Over all, it's been a good birthday. Started a little melancholy, what with the dregs of Faye dripping through here, and all. But improved.

Thomas and I went to the Aquarium Shop and bought 7 new fish, including 2 pair of guppies. Beloved gave me an excellent big mug from the Shenandoah National Park, and a snowman ornament (snowpeople are something of a weakness of mine, having never lived anywhere where there was enough snow to make one, with the exception of one winter in Cincinnati) and I hung him from the mantle (the snowguy, not Mark). The snowpeople are allowed to stay out year 'round.