I am not a scrooge. I love Christmas. I am a virtual theoretical Martha Stewart. I would be happiest living on a remote island off the coast of some cold place with a really good reliable satellite Internet connection telling people how to have a virtual Christmas. I'd have virtual cookies, cinnamon smells, tinsel, shiny things. I'd be very happy.Instead, I have to prepare for tax season, finish 2008 and all of the payroll, sales tax, bookkeeping & tax work that involves, juggle paychecks and gift buying, clean house, take care of the school... OK I'm going to quit whining.This morning I'm making an excel spreadsheet of my family Christmas list. I just realized that not only do I need to get gifts, but Mark and Joseph need to get gifts. I know that they (at least Joseph) should get their own gifts. They will. I just want to coordinate the plan. In the past week or so, on long lunches and quick trips between meetings and when I've had to pick up Mark at school, I've shopped. Some of the gifts are wrapped, and it is to be hoped, labeled. Some are not. I do not know what I have. I don't know what I need to get. I have a Sunday deadline for half the family.Today, I have to make killer mashed potatoes for the faculty/board family lunch at Carolina School for Inquiry. That's OK. I can do it. I still have cream cheese from when I planned to make four pumpkin cheese cakes and only made one. I hope they aren't moldy. I'd better check.I have also realized that part of the reason that everyone else I know seems to be wildly wealthier than we are (other than those who make a boatload more money and have no children and therefore ARE wildly wealthier than we are) is that they have credit cards. We don't have any credit cards.So instead of buying lots of expensive gifts now, I'm going to buy lots of nice but not so expensive gifts now, and then maybe buy something else later when we have more money. Kind of the way we live. Happy April!!!!Or I could do that radical thing and buy Christmas gifts through out the year and save them. But I've never gotten over the creepy factor of the VERY old Eight is Enough show when the new step-mom found a gift for Tommy (I think) that the dead mom had bought and wrapped before she died. Step-mom gave it to him in a touching bounding (creepy) moment. <<>> I'll have to get over that, or get a credit card.
Just to make sure this is clear, Mark's school isn't like that. He has recess, art, PE, music, Spanish, etc., etc. It's an inquiry based curriculum and ALL children learn. www.carolinaschoolforinquiry.com
Mark & his class are going to Charlotte on a field study today. They leave in about a half an hour --- 7 a.m. They don't call them field trips any more. Somehow that doesn't give it the educational significance "field study" does. And it's all about education. Not really. It just has to sound like it is. Like, they cut out recess because that doesn't sound like education, even though anyone who has ever been near a child knows you can't teach a child who has been cooped up in a seat all day. And they cut out music and art because they can't test it with a number two pencil. And they are going to cut funding for supplemental salaries for Nationally Certified Teachers because they don't want to throw money at the problem.Then they are going to bureaucratize the laws relating to charter schools so that what should be innovative schools will be just as hide-bound as the traditional public schools rather than freeing the traditional public schools to be innovative and entrepreneurial.And then they will send their children to segregated, elitist private schools and bemoan the complete failure of public schools and the terrible parents, teachers, and children who are a part of it.
People ask me why I read juvenile fiction... well, they don't because they either read it themselves, don't know or are too polite to ask. But if they did ask I'd say because there is some really good stuff out there. I didn't read much juvenile fiction when I was a juvenile. I took me awhile to discover the joys of Madeline L'Engle and her Time Trilogy and the trillions of other books she wrote. I read the Chronicles of Narnia this spring. I read the Lord of the Rings a couple of years ago (only one time.) Since I've become a part of Carolina School for Inquiry and discovered the joy of Scholastic book fairs, I've become addicted. This week, I've read three good books. OK, I'm working on the the third.The first is Deep Down Popular by Phoebe Stone. This one is well written. I like the voice. It is lyrical. I would rate it higher but for one thing. I will say this to Ms. Stone and to ALL Yankee writers: "Y'all" is plural. Always. Unless you are talking to Sybil. I really really really have trouble getting past that. So does your granny. But other than that, it was a sweet book. I'm giving it to Mr. Hodges because he says he doesn't have enough girl books. I don't think it's just a girl book though...The second book jumped off the shelf into my arms. I am not kidding. It is called Suddenly Supernatural and it was written by Elizabeth Cody Kimmel. I liked it so much I e-mailed her. I hope she doesn't get a restraining order. I have that effect on authors. Except Annie. As I said to Ms. Kimmel, the book reminded me of middle school (although my mother was a liberal Democrat, not a psychic), but I'm sure I'll be able to repress the memories again.The third book I am still reading. It is Chicken Boy by Francis O'Roark Dowell. Last night I read: "This business of getting out and doing things, well, once you got going, it was hard to stop yourself. You start out raising chickens, you end up doing your homework half the time and even talking to a few people in your classes. You start feeling like this useful human being." (p.112)Maybe it was the time, and maybe it was the medication, but when I read that, I thought, that is how I feel about blogging. I feel as if I've stepped out of a cave. I talk to people at the grocery store. I reconnect with old friends. But even more than that, my old creativity and intelligence is stretching. I'm still pretty much using it for "cute," but it's there.
OK: we have lots of towels. Beach towels that have whales, beach towels that have Disney characters, bath towels that we got when we got married twenty three years ago, bath towels I use when I color my hair (which I don't do of course), etc. etc. We also have two baby blue bath sheets I bought two weeks ago.The dishwasher leaked. Guess which ones my husband used to clean up the floor?You think about that while I wait for the coffee to finish dripping.
I am listening to Good Morning America while struggling with the combined whims of dial-up, AOL, and the Verizon website to add a line so I can get my loving husband a cell phone for Christmas. He doesn't want one, and has told me that he will turn it off at work, but there have been some unfortunate incidents recently and I'd like to be able to get in touch with him when he is NOT at his office. Among the normal Saturday morning deaths, lay-offs, and celebrity melt downs, Good Morning America is talking about Christmas stuff. Number One: How to spend less than $1000 on Christmas gifts. Number Two: Who to tip and how much.OK: Number One: I don't spend $1000 on Christmas gifts. I can't. Not and eat. Number two. I don't tip extra at Christmas. I mean, I tip well in normal tipping situations, liking eating out. When I walk into a restaurant, the waiterpeople fight to serve me. I once tried to join over tippers anonymous, but the waiterpeople started crying so I didn't. But that is not what I am talking about.My friend Lydia said her paper"boy" gave her an envelope in which to put his Christmas "gift." That's not a gift, that's extortion. Since she lives in NJ, I'd pay it, but jeez. If you have to pay it, it isn't a gift and it isn't a tip. It's also subject to social security, medicare and income tax, but I digress...My mother in law always ends up saying "Let's not go over board with gift giving" and I think, "Who's going over board?" She isn't, not with us. She's very generous all year round in every day ways, so I'm not complaining. What I realized is that she and her circle of friends (her bridge clubs --- plural, her church groups, her friends from college, her friends from high school) all give gifts. They may be bread or cookies or a little basket of something, but it's something and you have to get something in return and you have to think about it and do something and wrap it and remember where you put it and not forget that somebody has decided she is vegetarian and Sue is lactose intolerant and Mary Lou will die if you give her a peanut... wow. I'm glad I don't have friends like that. All I do is buy books at the book fair for every child I know and forget about their parents. The kids are grateful, the parents are more grateful and I get to buy "Fancy Nancy's Favorite Fancy Words" even though I don't have any girls.As far as spending $1000 on Christmas... well, it's not going to happen. But that's OK. Because we always have lots and lots of cool stuff. This year I'm thinking of the socks and underwear theme...
Some time this week... I think it was Wednesday... I received an AWARD from writers and witches, and word...oh my! which is really cool. It is the Marie Antoinette Award, for bloggers who write about real life. I'm not sure what Marie Antoinette had to do with real life, she seemed a little deluded to me, but what the hey? My real life interfered with me getting the reward in a timely. I was at a two day tax workshop, learning how not to go to jail this tax season. I look good in orange, but I don't look good in overalls. Anyway, the award: I think, if I understand it, which I might not...I ask a question, which y'all answer. Y'all ask me questions, which I answer. Anyone who knows me knows that I WILL answer questions. I might even tell the truth. You might even be able to handle the truth.Then I am suppose to hand the award on to seven bloggers. I don't know if I can do that, since most of my blogger buddies are sort of private. And the ones who aren't are higher up the food chain than I am, meaning they already got the award, most likely. So if you want the award, let me know and I'll send it to you, ok? Is that tacky?OK, this is my question:As you face the new year, are you operating from fear or hope? And what does that mean to you?
Last night, I watched Rudolf the Red nosed Reindeer with my 10 year old son Mark. It is sort of a family tradition, but everything takes on new meaning once your baby is ten.Many years ago (don't ask), my sister, brother, and I would "pull up an iceberg" and watch Rudolf every year. We'd get scared of the Abominable Snowman, get mad at the reindeer for making fun of Rudolf, and cheer when Santa picked up the misfit toys. As a matter of fact, we were so impressed with that part that we'd sleep with all of our toys so that King Moonracer wouldn't steal them.So last night, I pull up an iceberg... OK a wing chair, and Mark and I watched Rudolf. Since I was a little grumpy, I had trouble getting into to it.Donder sees Rudolf's nose. I say, "Hey, what the hell's wrong with that kids nose? That ain't my kid." Then I point out that Donder should be more accepting of Rudolf for what he is and go on a tirade about parents who want to live their children's lives. Santa comes in: "What the hell is wrong with that kid's nose?" Mark suggests that Santa is a jackass because he's been dieting.By this time Mark's face is redder than Rudolf's nose and I am having some fun. I 'll admit that I like to make people laugh. It's like crack to me. Don't get me started, or some kind person has to lead me away. (Yes Kathy, that was funny. What the hell is wrong with that kid's nose. Now let's go to bed.)So Mark rolled on the floor while I had a grumpy humorous commentary throughout the show. I have to say, I enjoyed it more than usual. Mark said he can't wait for Polar Express and for some bizarre reason, wished me a tiring, frustrating day.What a kid. But what's wrong with his nose?
This has been a fun and relaxing Thanksgiving. Even with two family gatherings, there has been very little drama and a whole lot of warm togetherness. I have had four days away from my jobs. I have crocheted, cleaned, cooked, and read. I have talked to family members, told stories, heard stories, shared recipes, shared dreams. I have had a nice holiday.But the puritan (I think --- hard to tell when you as much of a mongrel as I am) is not happy. Four days and I only cleaned two rooms. I could easily have finished Brendon's stocking and at least one of the scarves I'm making. I could have baked the bread I thought about. For goodness sake, I could have gotten dressed at least. (I did dress to go to the family gatherings. I even wore make-up.) I really wasted these four days.One of the other parts of me has told the puritan to take a walk. That part and the rest of me, now that the puritan is grumbling in the rain, are enjoying another cup of coffee and a bowl of apple cinnamon brown sugar oatmeal. (Brown sugar & cinnamon? the Puritan yells from the yard. Way to make a healthy meal unhealthy!) The rest of me smiles and takes another bite. The rest of me is going to enjoy this last day of the holiday.
I sit here at the computer this bright icy morning. Even the sun seems to shine with a frozen brightness, giving light but not heat.I am told we will have a mild winter. I am thinking I was told wrong. For those of us here in South Carolina who don't expect the temperature to hit the 20s until February if at all, there is nothing mild about 21 degrees in November. Before Thanksgiving. What's with this?I have spent too much time on Facebook this morning... my new addiction, which is eating up the time I used to spend on my old addictions: blogs & solitaire. I am thinking about what I need to do today and what I want to do.I am planning to make two pumpkin cheesecakes today. One for each of my offices. I still need to copy and put together the board manuals for the Carolina School for Inquiry board. And I'd like to clean my bedroom --- at least a little.Oh well... wish me luck.
When you take off Monday to do everything you haven't had time to do in the past ten years, Tuesday becomes Monday, only worse.Yesterday, I cleaned the public areas of my house, explored the Goodwill store (three sweaters, two shirts, a vest that doesn't fit, three soup mugs, and a diffuser for $29), went to lunch with Bob and Joseph, made and ate chili, gathered recipes for Thanksgiving stuff and Christmas cookies, and read Good Housekeeping Magazine. I also watched Chuck, which was irritating, except Casey, who is always amusing. And I so knew that bimbo ex-girlfriend was a bad spy. Doesn't she look like Sarah Palin? That can't be good.Today I am faced with a bunch of notes on my desk, most of which could have been handled by someone else if someone else cared to think about it. I have taken care of some basic things like sales tax, but set aside serious bookwork in favor of cleaning the office in preparation for tax season. Maybe I'm just in a cleaning mood. I may just need to inhale some lemon fresh Lysol cleaner and get on with my life.
Last week I realized that if I didn't take some time off between then and tax season, I'd be no good to anyone. So I looked at the calendar and, not counting Thanksgiving & Christmas, because they are work, I could take off: today.So here I sit at the computer with a comfortable cat in my lap, thinking about what to do and what not to bother with. Today is clean the main floor of the house, go to Goodwill & Habitat stores to see if I can find cute, thoughtful, cheap gifts, cook chili & cornbread, cut my hair.I have been driving myself crazy with thoughts of things I need to do. I think of them in the shower, driving, while cleaning. These mental to do lists float around and I can't pin them down. I write lists, but then I lose the lists. I have put post-it notes to good use at work, but can't make that work elsewhere. I bought a sketch pad and some of those new Sharpie pens that don't bleed (black, blue, green, red). I am writing my random to do lists in this book, sort of separated, but not really. My hope is that if I write it down in a safe place (really), I'll be able to move on to actually doing one thing at a time.I'll let you know how it works for me...
The good thing about changing to eastern standard time is that my mind thinks I am sleeping an extra hour. This is really nice when I wake up at 5:30 a.m. The bad thing is that at 2:30, my mind thinks it is 3:30 and I am ready for a nap. Oh well.It is really fall here now. The dogwood tree outside my window is red. The maple is yellow. Everything else is green, but that's South Carolina for you. I am still fighting a chest/sinus cold that may or may not be pneumonia/sinus infection, and all I want to do is crawl into bed with cup of tea and a good book. I don't have a good book right now, and a stray thought flittered through my mind yesterday: If you don't have a good book to read, you ought to write one. It flittered out again, but who knows. Maybe it will come back with a more solid idea next time.
I read the newest issue of Oprah this week, all about being beautiful from the inside out. And even though I read it while drinking 20 oz of Magnesium Citrate and pooping every ounce of everything in my body, it turns out I am fairly well balanced and happy. Who'd a thought it?I really like Oprah magazine. The articles. I ignore the cute little must haves, like the clutches that are "so affordable at $300 a piece you need one in every color." Oprah has really left the red dirt behind her, huh? Oh well, good for her. I skip to Martha Beck.So anyway...What I am and what I want to be isn't as far apart as I'd thought. I want to lose weight and be healthier, but I'm not as far off my goal as I'd been making myself think. I am a neurotic, introverted over-thinker, but I pretty much know how to deal with myself. (My counselor gave me a great way to deal with my neurotic thoughts. I say: oh look, I'm being neurotic. The world doesn't revolve around me. Wah! Wah!--- I added the Wah! Wah! part, but it works for me.) I still haven't been able to separate my should do list from my to do list, but I'm working on it.I can take myself out in public without embarrassing myself.I listen to people, really, and not just to think of what I'm going to say in response.What revelations!Hmmm... Oprah and a colonoscopy prep... the new spirit journey.
As predicted, I survived and feel fine. I lost 10 lbs and am trying to eat lean protein and veggies for awhile to savor the loss.I am back at work, up to my ears in things no one but me can do, so I'll sign off.
Today I have my colonoscopy. In about 6 hours, I will be home eating something. Anything.Since my appointment is at 1:30, I haven't been able to eat or drink since midnight. I have a terrible headache, and have been using an ice pack. I would kill for green jello.
I have decided that the colonoscopy prep is like childbirth. The first time you decide to do it, you are a little nervous because you've heard bad things, but you know people do it all the time and you get something good from it. During the actual prep/labor, you wonder what in the hell you were thinking and why didn't anyone tell you it was this bad? You cry, promise to eat fiber/use birth control and never ever to do this again.
Then you forget. And the time comes to do it again, and you only remember the good feelings of knowing you don't have cancer/having a baby. You sign up with enthusiasm. You share war stories with others who have done it, but in the jocular way of very old soldiers who spent the war in supply huts & wine bars far from a real battle.
Then it starts for real. And you remember that it really really sucks. You remember that it is banned by the Geneva convention. You promise to eat fiber/use birth control and never ever go near a doctor or a man again.
But then it's over and you have a clean bill of health or a new baby, and you think, that wasn't so bad, was it?
It is finally fall here, although I think it may warm up again next week. The dogwood leaves are beginning to turn red to match their berries. Everything else is still green.I am hoping that the next couple of weeks will be fairly uneventful. I need a break. This is the time for cleaning the office and preparing it for TAX SEASON, cleaning the house and preparing for Christmas, cleaning my brain and preparing for the new year.Right now, I am sitting here, thinking about nothing much. Watching the neighbors walk their dogs. Watching my cat sleep.Soon, Mark and I will make pumpkin muffins for Muffins for Moms tomorrow at Carolina School for Inquiry. I won't be able to eat them tomorrow since I'll be on a liquid diet to prepare for my colonoscopy, but I'll eat one today. I'll go to work later, both jobs, to make up for the time I'll miss next week. OK, get moving... have a nice week!
On April 15th, we calmly met taxpayers at the door with a smile and an extension form. Most were filed within the next couple of weeks. Over the next few months, we called and reminded the rest that they still needed to file their tax returns. October 15th is the real deadline. There are no more extensions. You have to file. No kidding. Add payroll tax deposits due on the 15th, sales tax due on the 20th (Monday & I won't be here Thursday or Friday), and regular payrolls that need to be done and you have today.I will survive, and probably even smile again. But that will be tomorrow.Back to work.
I'm not sure what day it is, but I know that tomorrow is the for-real-extension deadline for filing tax returns. Lots of people have suddenly remembered they want a stimulus check and are bringing in their shoe boxes of receipts and check stubs. Bless their hearts.Right now it is time for my 2:45 nap, so here I am.I had my yearly physical, which I have about once every other year or two, and came out with a long list of tests I have to have in the next month. Ok, the next week. Thursday, I get to take a nuclear stress test, which is stressful just to say. Friday, I get a CT scan of my lungs, which are funky looking, but not sick, so please leave me alone already. I just hope I don't have to go see the damn pulmonologist who will charge me $100 to say, "It looks bad, but if it were as bad as it looks, you'd be really sick. You don't look sick." Next week, I get to have a colonoscopy. Since I am the colonoscopy poster child, I'm really excited about this. Two uncles, two great aunts, and numerous first cousins once removed have died or are suffering from colon cancer. Since the act of having a colonoscopy nips the colon cancer in the bud (as it were) by removing polyps that might turn ugly, I'm all for it. Plus, I usually lose about 10 or 20 lbs and feel so liberated with my nice clean colon that I go on a healthy eating/ exercise plan that lasts until tax season. I'm looking forward to that!Then, there is my mammogram and a follow up to my doctor to round out the fall. Then, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and TAX SEASON. Boy, time flies.
Has this fall been this busy? I can't say for sure I've accomplished anything, but I have been working hard. I think my medications are finally settled. I'm feeling better, less tired, less dizzy. Most days my brain works.I am still facing a collage of to do lists from every part of my life. I need to finish tax returns, make phone calls, sign up for courses at the accounting office; I need to organize the report layout and answer some questions at the church; I need to e-mail all of the new board members and get started on the new board year at the school; I need to do SOMETHING with the middle school charter, even if it's just give it to someone else to do; I need to study for and take the business part of the Enrolled Agent Exam; I need to walk & eat better food; I need to crochet a Christmas stocking for Brendon; I need to read with Mark; I need to help Joseph apply for college; I need to spend time with my family and friends. I need to breath.For now: payroll tax deposits. And a promise to write more often, even if I don't say anything.
