I couldn’t write this last night because I was so involved in Ancestry.com. I started a 14-day free trial in the early evening, switched from my computer to my tablet when the pain got too bad, and kept going until I fell asleep, drooling on my family tree. Those little leaves – it’s worse than Farmville. There are very few pictures, but lots of census records. Let me just say that legible handwriting was obviously not a job requirement for census takers. And the forms themselves – wow. And not in a good way. In 1910 someone could actually be legalled classified as a mulatto idiot. Yes, mulatto and idiot were boxes that could be checked. And boarders were present in most homes. People just rented out spare rooms to strangers. I can’t imagine anyone doing that in this day and age.
The other excitement this week has involved making financial decisions. Lots of things are up in the air, and ever since our lawyer told a big ‘ole lie right in front of us during a hearing (about a minor detail, but still!) I don’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth. I mean, yes, we’ve all heard about the stereotypical dishonest lawyer, but this guy doesn’t even lie well. Every time he lies he does it very enthusiastically. If he says something calmly chances are it’s the truth. But when he gets all earnest and gives great weight to what he’s saying he’s totally lying. And since he never gives a short answer to anything, so every interaction is exhausting. Thankfully, his paralegal is wonderful, helpful, and honest. But she’s also very pregnant, so I’m dreading her maternity leave.
I made Oreo balls for a Nerium party. They were supposed to look like this:
But mine looked like this:
It’s obviously a technique issue, since only three ingredients are involved. You mix a box of crushed Oreos with a softened 8-oz block of cream cheese, refrigerate, and then dip in melted almond bark. Maybe I was supposed to freeze them instead. Or maybe I should have used the smaller scoop. Oh, well. They taste fabulous even if they do look pretty awful.
My son wanted some extra T-shirts for band camp, so we went to a thrift store I hadn’t been to for a while. He wanted shirts that could be stained, ripped, or lost since that’s pretty much the destiny of all band camp T-shirts. I was pretty excited. A chance to go thrift store shopping with a valid excuse! I took him to the men’s medium T-shirt section, and by the time I’d walked to the women’s section of the store, before I had even touched a single garment – there he was, a half-dozen shirts in hand. Thankfully one of them didn’t have a price tag so that delayed him long enough for me to find dog toys, but that was all. He very thoughtfully offered to hang with me while I browsed, but we really did have other things to do. It made me really miss my mother-in-law, Pat. She and I would spend all day thrift store shopping. It was awesome.
Band camp, by the way, starts Monday. I feel like John’s had no summer. He dome some of the PSAT prep book I got him, but hasn’t even cracked the copy of The Slight Edge for Teens I wanted him to read over the summer. It’s short, maybe he can read it at the pool tomorrow if we can get a day without rain.
I could really use some time at the pool, and tomorrow’s our last day with my father-in-law’s borrowed pool key. He gets back from vacation Sunday. The storm front moving in have been killing my neck, and the week’s other activities haven’t helped. I waited for two hours in an exam room Wednesday for my doctor to get to me. Of course, by the time he got there I was curled into a ball on the exam table with a pillow wadded up to support my neck. I had pre-op and disability forms for him to sign, and I may or may not have been a real bitch about it. I don’t even remember driving home.
I spent the morning running errands in the rain, and now that everyone has the paperwork they need I’m just waiting for calls about disability, surgery, and financial assistance. I’d like a large YES with a side of IMMEDIATELY, but I’d settle for a optomistic maybe soon across the board.
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