One Down...

Woke up this morning to find that the job bunny had left me an assignment in my email box last night. My first one. I had to write a 300-350 word article for a Canadian city's tourism blog. It was a little weird expounding the virtues of a travel destination that I have never traveled to. Then again, I suppose that I did write the occasional paper in college on books that I hadn't actually read, so it isn't THAT much of a stretch.

***Editor's Note
There is a reason that I got a Bachelor of Science in English as opposed to a Bachelor of Arts in English.
Officially it was because I couldn't clep my Mandarin. Rather than add another three semesters to my graduation date, my advisor just switched me to a B.S. instead which required no language credits.
Unofficially it is because a BS degree seemed so much more appropriate for me; personally. What I mean is...am I, or am I not the Dark Prince of Bull Shhh...tuff?
***

Anyway, I'm not yet familiar with the rules and regulations regarding what I write for them and what I can and cannot copy or link to; so for now we'll say that I wrote a lovely little piece on the fishing in a small, local lake and that pending editorial review and client acceptance, I'm now ten dollars and twenty three cents richer than I was when I woke up.

Woo Freaking Hoo! Save me a spot at the high roller table, boys; the dice are a' calling my name!!

Yeah. Or not. Ten bucks for an hours worth of writing isn't a bad deal,really, and I think that once I get used to the system and the style guides, I'll crank them out quicker still.

It ain't much but its a start.

I spent yesterday at LDS employment looking for a full time gig. Not looking so hot. I thought it was rough when doctors said "Wow."

Every time I explain my situation and why there's a five year gap in my employment history, people say "Gee. That's just terrible. How do you keep going? I sure wish I had some way to help, but..."

You and me both, buddy. Tomorrow I go back to rework my resume and then next week I go for two days of interview and networking skills. I've already taken classes on this stuff before I graduated, so I'm expecting it to be mostly review, but I hope that I'll get something new out of it. If nothing else, they'll keep me too busy to mope about being a shiftless bum.

Well, it's the Boss's day off today and she's just waking up after closing last night. Time to go run some errands. More tomorrow.

So Where Are They?

The Boss was up at four this morning to get to work by five. Being the loving and kind husband that I am, I rolled over and went back to sleep for her. Which was fine for about an hour or so. Then Peff woke me up.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Haggis says there are monsters under the bed."

"Well, Haggis is full of it."

"Really?"

"Really." I said, waking up a little. I have a stock in trade answer for this one that I developed when the girls were toddlers and very concerned about the presence of monsters in their rooms. It worked for them, why not Peff?

"I can personally guarantee that there are no monsters in this house, son. When your mother and I bought it, we paid extra for state of the art monster detection and repellant systems. They are imbeded in the insulation between the walls. No monster could be in this house."

"Yeah, Dad, I know. I looked and there was nothing under there."

"I'm thrilled my money was well spent, though I'm beyond curious as to why you are waking me up at the 'plumber's crack of dawn' to tell me there are no monsters in the house. Go back to sleep."

"Um, Dad?"

"WHAT?!"

"How do you turn the monster alarm off? I wanna see one."

And that, my friends... is one more example of the differences between boys and girls.

I reviewed my "Manly Manual" just now and sure as heck; Age (6), section (2), subheading (a) reads:

"Monsters are the end all-be all of cool. You gotta see one."

Guess it's time to dust off that "Gremlins" DVD, huh?

"Deagle, Deagle, Deagle...."

Good News for the Boss

Well, the Boss gets some good news today.

I found a job.

I have been contracted by an Internet company to do freelance writing/marketing. I am no longer a shiftless layabout. Well....that's not true.

Let's just say that I'm not unemployed any more. It probably won't be a whole lot of money, but it is sure as heck more than I'm making now. It's piecework that pays by the word; some of it for publication on client blogs and websites, but mostly as "keyword" writing designed to boost search engine priority for a company's website.

I think that it is a good opportunity to get some experience, develop my writing/resume skills and there are even some chances to move up the ladder into editing and the like. It would appear that my college degree will be worth more than a high school diploma after all!

Another bonus is that it can be done from home so I don't have to worry about daycare for Squizzle when Peff goes to school. Also it is the kind of work that I can do on the side of something else. I won't earn enough that the Boss should start drafting her retirement notice, but it is certainly a step up from where we currently are.

Maybe soon I'll be able to afford paying attention. In the mean time keep me in mind if you come across any other prospects.

Sinner

Backlash duly noted.

I offer my heartfelt apologies.

I didn't mean to abandon you all, but that's what happened anyway. I got some eyesight back and discovered just how many things had piled up on my need-to-do-list. I have spent the last two weeks cleaning carpets, washing walls, painting, cleaning the garage, doing yard work, sorting laundry, cooking all the meals, sending Haggis off to camp.... It's astonishing how many chores piled up.

I didn't realize how little spare time an unemployed bum can have when he hasn't been able to see for five years.

So where to start?

I guess I'll start with the Boss. She has been at her new job for a couple of weeks, and she loves it. Her supervisors think she is the "Chosen One", the customers take an immediate shine to her, and her co-workers are already in love.

Can't say I blame them.

The slower pace and attention to personal service are right in the Boss's wheelhouse. Her people skills are her strength, and if she has a minute to stop and chat she'll charm the heck out of you. After a week; her employees would have killed for her. By now they'd go to the moon without space suits if she asked them to. Again, this surprises no one who knows her. At the clown company they had begun to sacrifice service in a quest for speed (they aren't the same thing) so this return to a more pleasant atmosphere is just the balm she needed.

It's not perfect, though. She is training in Orem which is an hour long commute, so the ten hour shifts that she works actually equal twelve hours away from home. It can take a toll, but it's still fewer hours than she was spending at the clown's. Plus they don't call her when she's not at work. No more text messages every two minutes. No more three A.M. phone calls. No more late night trips to re-demonstrate something to the same people for the thirtieth time (See; even the complaints turn into positives). The commute does take it's toll, and the gasoline bill is crippling our budget. The promise is that she'll get transferred to someplace here in the valley within the next month or so, and that will solve that problem.

I do miss the free food from the clown but we have gotten to try a few of the pies and they are better than cheeseburgers by a sight. In all, I'd say even this former blind man can see we made a good decision.

On to the next...

I've been fixing up the things that were neglected by my bad eyes. Last week it was scouring the upstairs rooms. There is a bedroom, an office/toyroom, and a bathroom. The toys got sorted and reduced to a couple of totes. The bookshelves got a makeover and the desk decluttered. Windows got washed and carpets cleaned. The big girls room got a fresh coat of paint. It went from yellow to purple.

When I was blind, I had picked a color that I thought was kind of a light lavender. But when I started to roll it on, it was about ten times darker than that. It looks like the "artist formerly known as Prince" did the interior decorating. If Grimace ever goes in there and shuts his eyes, we will never find him. It is VERY purple. I am not a fan, but the girls love it and so does the Boss. I'm just glad that it's going to be hard to mark it up with crayons.

I replaced the busted ceiling fan with one of the light fixtures that Beak gave us, and by the time I touched up the paint in the hallway and cleaned the bathroom, I was into the third day of that little project.

Cleaning the garage and mowing the lawn took another day, and we also went to celebrate the fourth over at the Boss's sisters. We had a BBQ and did fireworks, much to the delight of Squizzle. He thinks that the "Snap-it" pops that you throw on the ground are the coolest thing ever. I wish that I'd had a video camera because watching him wind up to throw one hard enough to get it to pop was hilarious. He'd toss them as hard as he could and then he'd growl at them if they didn't pop. If they did pop, he'd clap and giggle and run in circles. He never was able to figure out why they didn't work on grass, though.

One day, we went with the Boss to Orem for a manager meeting, and while she worked, I drove around the backstreets of town to get a little driving practice in. I am the world's most cautious driver on my most rebellious days, but driving for the first time in five years added to the caution. It didn't help that I am neither licensed or insured, so if I had been pulled over it would have been off to jail for sure. But hey, I got to practice sometime and by doing it an hour away from home most of my pedestrian friends and family were kept relatively safe.

While I am not quite ready for driving tests, I am past ready for some employment. I have been spending the vast majority of my time looking for a job. Newspaper classifieds, LDS employment, Utah department of workforce services, you name it, I've searched it. I ask for applications at every business we cross, and I've filled out a hundred of 'em. I even have two resumes, one for English degree related jobs (which is not getting very much use, I'm afraid) and one for warehouse/sales/production/anything else-I-might-be-qualified-for jobs. So far all I have to show for a months worth of applying is one rejection email. I haven't even got an interview yet. I'm getting desperate. It annoys me that I spent all that time and money on a college education and I'm going to wind up in the same joe-jobs I was in before.

If I'm lucky.

Again, any leads anyone has would be appreciated.

Speaking of unemployment, Uncle C finally ran out of time with Jordan District and they laid him off. I figure the whole public eduacation system in this state is going to implode one of these days. I still can't figure out why kids that live within blocks of one another are getting different amounts of spending. The first thing I'd do if I got put in charge would be to get per-pupil spending equal for all districts in the state. It's asinine that a kid in Sandy should get more spent on their education than a kid in Carbon county (Sorry, I'll get off my soapbox).

The real crusher here, other than Uncle C needing a new job, is that I no longer watch Reaggers and Bub, so the funny stories seem to have dried up considerably. That's another reason I've been a while without a post, the funny has deserted me in favor of quiet desperation. But then, right as my mother was informing me of my growing line of hate-mail and chastising me for not posting, something funny happened.

My brother just bought a new car. He picked us up one night for a family get-together when the Boss was at work. We were talking about buying cars when I reiterated my opinion the the dodge rotting in my driveway represented the single worst decision I had ever made. From the back seat, Puzilla's tiny voice piped up, "Don't worry daddy. You're still young. You've got plenty of time to make worse choices than that!"

Can't live with 'em; can't sell 'em on e-bay. Where's the Tylenol?

School's Out!!

Well, we got a happy little surprise when the Clown company decided to buy the Boss out of her two weeks notice. It's funny because just yesterday morning the Boss said to me, "I wish I had thought to plan a little vacation time in between the two jobs so I could recharge."

Well, then! Wish in one hand...get it granted in the other. Our incredible string of fortunate bounces continues. I know who it is that gets the credit, and I will be eternally indebted and infinitely grateful. But to be honest, it's making me a little nervous.

Because of this great news, I will be in and out of the house for a bit, so expect sporadic posting at best. I'll try to keep this updated at night as best I can.

In the meantime, Happy Father's day to all the dads, and have a great weekend!!!!

An Alternator with Fava Beans and Chianti?

If I did not know better, I would swear that my wife is the Hannibal Lechter of automobiles.

The new van wouldn't start this morning, necessitating another trip to autozone. Hopefully it's just a low battery charge, but with my luck...

On the good side, I think that I'm going to nickname the new car Clarisse.

"You might think you're a sports car, with your fancy wheels and V6 engine; but you're really just a bad oil change and a lower wheelbase away from being a poor, tan, station wagon! Phtppppphtpphtphhht!"

Laugh or cry. I'm kinda on the edge.

Yesterday's post reminded me of a couple of classic family stories that ought to be recorded for posterity. It was the trip to the buffet that triggered 'em.

The first and foremost was a trip that we took right before the Boss and I got married. My brother had just gotten home from his mission and with my grandparents in town, mom and dad took everybody out to eat. The Boss had just had her wisdom teeth pulled and was not in much condition for an all-you-can-eat, but came with us anyway.

It was a nice dinner with lots of jokes and stories, and we were all having a good time. My brother and I got up to go get ice cream. When we got to the dessert bar, there was this little, old man who looked to be about a thousand and ninety years old, holding a cane and an empty bowl. He had this frustrated look on his face and either out of plain frustration or because he mistook us for employees, he shouts at us, "You wanna tell me just where in the hell they put the damn rice pudding?!"

I fell on the floor; I was laughing so hard. My brother kept it together long enough to help the old geezer out, but by the time we got back to the table, neither one of us could control ourselves. When we told every one else, the whole table was in hysterics.

To this day, I have no idea why that old man asking for "Damn rice pudding" was so utterly hilarious, but it was. More than fifteen years have passed and we cannot have any family function involving dinner without someone asking if there will be "Damn rice pudding" on the menu. Whatever you do, don't call it rice pudding. That just wouldn't be right. Everyone knows there is no rice pudding but "Damn rice pudding".

The other story is just as good. Right after my brother got married, we had one great mass family vacation to Florida and Disney world. Haggis was maybe one or two, and we flew fourteen people to Orlando. It was one of those unforgettable trips that become eternal legend.

Just to give you an idea of how great a trip this was, we flew from Salt Lake to Orlando on a red-eye, and sitting right next to my dad was none other than Bill Goldberg and Diamond Dallas Paige from professional wrestling fame. These were the days before cell phone cameras but Dad did get DDP to autograph a barf-bag. Says he was one of the nicest guys you'd ever meet.

And the trip only got better from there.

But for this post's purpose, I'll just tell about our trip to the Crystal Palace Buffet in Magic Kingdom.

Now, my grandmother started a tradition long before our trip to Florida when we went to a buffet in Jackpot, Nevada. During that meal, Grandma came back from the dessert bar (Sorry, this was pre-Damn rice pudding days) with a plate full of cookies. You have to understand that my grandmother is a woman of great presence, but small stature. So we were all kind of amazed at the quantity of dessert she was planning on putting away.

We had no idea.

A few minutes later, she excused herself from the table and we were stunned to see nothing on her plate but crumbs. When she came back with another stack of cookies, curiosity got the better of manners and someone jokingly asked her where she was putting all the cookies.

"In my purse", she said, pulling out a ziplock baggie now half full of chocolate chip deliciousness. "I bring a ziplock, and take a dozen or so home with me so grandpa can have them for late night snacks."

Well this was far too practical an idea for everyone at the table to NOT adopt, so when we went to the buffet from then on, we always had a "Bag man" for a little take home treat.

Well, the food at Disneyland is...um...pricey. Having a sugar pick-me-up in a purse was a really good idea. So when we ate at the Crystal Palace we made my sister M the "bagman".

To avoid ostentatious displays of greed everyone would get one extra cookie when making a trip to the buffet. It became a bit of a game. We'd go "secret agent" while casually slipping M the loot for storage.

The giggles were getting louder and louder, and to be honest, a dozen people each nicking a couple of extra cookies really does put a dent in a buffet line. By the time we filled the bag, we noticed our waiter was studying us suspiciously. The giggling stopped, and we all started wondering at the ethics of covert cookie capers. We finished eating and everyone was nervously teasing M that if the "heat" came, we'd run interference while she made a break for the door.

Imagine our surprise when the waiter motioned for the manager to come over and then whispered something in his ear while gesturing in our direction. Now I was actually sweating.

The manager walked over to us, cleared his throat and said, "Excuse me a moment."

Everyone froze.

"Were you the people looking for a mail drop to send postcards home? The waiter wasn't sure if it was you or another family that had asked."

Everyone busted up laughing. "Yeah, that was us."

"I'd be happy to take those for you and see that they are mailed."

"Thanks a bunch. The postcards are right here in M's purse...um...."

Needless to say, covert cookie operations were red lighted from that point on.

Now I gotta go, the Boss just pulled bananna bread from the oven and it's calling my name.

The Wrath Of Fatdaddy

"From Hell's own heart, I stab at thee!"

Wow. Am I really quoting "Khan" from Star Trek?

If "high school me" were here he'd be kicking my butt. Since when was I able to quote Star Trek? That's the kind of crap that'll bring the shades of Vince Lombardi and Jerry Sloan snooping around here looking for my Man Card.

Nevertheless, it's the thought that came to mind on Saturday night at ten when the Boss got a call from one of her piece of dirt managers, who waited until then to tell the Boss that she wasn't going to come in for her three am shift.

Guess who had to go work her sixth shift of the week at a job she should no longer give a fat rat's patoot about? Nothing like one last cheap shot from the ingrates, huh? It was a real slap in the Boss's face and I don't mind saying it made me mad enough to spit. I told her she should have called her "Idiot" supervisor up and give him a taste of what she's had to deal with.

The conversation could go like this:

Boss: "Yeah, I know it's ten at night and you're getting ready for bed and you probably worked today already, but I don't have anyone to cover my closing shift. I think if I were you I'd set my alarm for about 2:30"

The Idiot: "No way am I doing that for you. You can go to Blazes"

Boss: "Sorry, pal, I gave Blazes my two weeks notice. Fire me if you want. Welcome to the world you created. Enjoy."

The Idiot: "Gee. This really is a crappy thing to expect of someone. Who knew?"

This is why they are lucky it was the Boss they employed instead of me. I'd have had that conversation.

But because the Boss is the compassionate woman she is... she went to work on two hours sleep and pulled her second nine hour shift of the day.

Savor the flavor, Clowns. It'll never happen again.

In fact, I have a feeling that about a month from now there is going to be significant weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth when the Clowns above and below realize just how much the Boss was shielding them from each other. By then, she'll be too far away to hear it, and no longer paid to care. I told you I can be bitter, but Karma can be a real beast.

Just ask my Cubbies.

They keep finding new and unusual ways to break my heart. Yesterday, I watched Ted Lilly take a no-no into the bottom of the ninth inning. I don't know when the last time a Cubbie threw a no hitter was, but the TV said there hadn't been one at Wrigley since before I was born. I got really exited as Lilly mowed down the eighth and called my mother to make sure she was tuned into something good actually happening to the Cubbies.

I mean, come on. I've been on a real roll with the Boss finding a new job, my eye sight returning...Miracles have been popping up like daisies.

"Mom!", I shouted into the phone. "Are you watching the Cubs game? Lilly's dealing a no-no!"

"I'll turn it on", she said.

Two pitches into the inning, Lilly tosses a looping off-speed pitch that I could have hit with my contacts out and it gets drilled into short center.

No-no abolished. "From Hell's heart..." I know, I know. I get it.

Five little words.

Loopy pulled Lilly for "Rocket-fuel Marmol", who immediately proceeded to walk the guy representing the winning run, balk the runners to second and third, and try to throw the game away.

I turned to the Boss, who was napping on the couch, and said, "Only the Cubbies could get within three outs of a no-hitter and then proceed to lose."

I called Mom again. "They will..."

"...break your heart!" she finished.

In spite of my bitter sorrow over the lost no-no, they managed to at least squeek out the win.

I guess I was due for one more miracle last week after all.

In spite of those two sour notes, I have to say it does not suck to be me right now. We went to dinner with my parents on Saturday night between the Boss's eighteen hour shifts. We went to the Buffet to celebrate the Boss's new job and the return of my vision. It was a very good evening. The kids even minded their manners.

I gotta say, you have know idea how trippy it is to be able to see street signs and pedestrians again. I even snuck in a joy ride around the block on Friday night.

Just because I could. I kept pointing to signs and reading them. The poor Boss was subjected to me reading inane things for the whole ride home from the doctor. It reminded me of when Peff learned his letters and annoyed us for a month by reading every letter he saw. Remember "Dad has two heart attacks"?

Look at this! Did you see that? When did they put that there? When did they tear that down?

I saw mountains and clouds, and the leaves on trees. I saw the TV from the couch instead of three feet away. I saw that the Rockband game I've been playing for a few years has little gray lines that mark the beat for you. I didn't know that.

I saw that my carpet is far dirtier than I thought, and I saw that what I thought was a grass lawn is really a mowed down weed patch. I also saw that I might have done the world's worst paint job on my living room. I can't believe the Boss has put up me doing such "fractional donkey"(think about it, you'll get it) work for so long.

"What, did a blind man paint this room?" Um, funny you should ask. I think I have some work to do. Or redo.

I saw the Boss is still as good looking as she was fifteen years ago, and I saw Squizzle clearly for the first time in his life. Thank heaven he looks like his mother.

I've seen a lot this weekend. It ain't perfect. The lenses irritate my eyes after about eight hours, and I have some glare in the left eye, but it's so much better than what it was, I don't care.

Hell can stab at me all it wants.

It's good to be me.

How Time Doth Fly

After we got done informing Village Inn that the Boss would be accepting their offer, we decided to do something fun with the kids to celebrate two good things in one day. So we got everyone dressed and loaded up the van.

We first took a rare visit to the dollar movies to see "Diary of a Wimpy Kid". Um...I guess we got what we paid for. Not my favorite movie but the kids seemed to enjoy it. If I had done the screenplay, I'd have spent more time exploring the relationship between the kid and his dad, who seemed to be at about the same maturity level. They had a shot to make a really good movie but missed it in favor of cheap jokes.

After the movie, we headed downtown to see all the construction that is going on and to take a tour of the Conference Center and Temple Square. I had never been on a tour of the conference center even though I've been there several times, so I had no idea there was a huge garden on the roof.




From the pictures, you'd never guess all that grass and wildflowers and even fully grown pines are on top of the building that the kids are sitting in front of in the other picture. Inside is just as amazing; it seats more people than Energy Solutions Arena down the street where the Jazz play.

There is also a large collection of religious art, including the Arnold Freiberg paintings of scenes from the Book of Mormon. I could have spent all day looking at the one of Abinidai. What a stud. The Lord commanded him to call a wicked King to repentance. The King rejected him and sent him into exile. Then the Lord told Abinidai to return and again preach to the King. Abinidai obeyed, even though he knew it was a death sentence. He stood and testified of the coming of Jesus Christ and even while he was burned at the stake, he obeyed the Lord and taught.

I have to admire a man who does what he knows is right, even if he doesn't understand why. Without Abinidai, Alma doesn't repent; without Alma, the Book of Mormon is a lot shorter read. Abinidai had no idea of the effect he had on the world when he died. Bet you he's glad he was obedient now, huh?

After the Conference Center tour, we went across the street to Temple Square. The Boss and I thought it would be fun to tell the kids about our wedding day and how things have changed over the years. We took some pictures, and I spent some time harassing the Mandarin speaking sister missionaries. Temple Square is about the only place I get to practice anymore. At least I can still carry on a conversation, even if some of the vocabulary is gone.


Finally, we went to the store to try a new activity we call "2 dollar dinner". You go into the grocery store and each member of the family is given two dollars to pick an ingredient. Then you have to go home and plan a menu and everyone helps cook something that hopefully turns out edible.

We let the kids choose without interference, starting with Peff. The Boss and I picked last so we could make sure we could finish something edible, and we decided that Squizzle's two bucks would go to double any ingredient that was key to the menu.

Peff picked a head of lettuce and two cans of chili. Puzey went next and got three kiwi fruit and a can of mandarin oranges. Then Moe, who selected three plums and a zucchini (getting scary, ain't it?). Haggis decided that with all the fruit, she had the makings of dessert pizza so she got two containers of yogurt and a package of cream cheese. Squizzle got more lettuce and some tomato, while the Boss picked a bag of store brand Frito's and a package of sugar cookie mix. I got kool-aid and cheese (OK, so I went over the two buck mark a little, sue me).

We got home and Moe sauteed her zucchini, the Boss made sugar cookies and mixed the lettuce and corn chips. Haggis cut up the tomato and grated the cheese while Peff and Haggis opened all the cans. The boss heated the chili for Frito pie with cheese, tomato, and lettuce. For dessert, we mixed the yogurt and cream cheese and spread that on the sugar cookies which were then topped with plum, kiwi, and mandarin oranges for mini fruit pizza.

Not a bad anniversary, considering that from movies to tours to dinner, we spent less than twenty five bucks.

Well, enough for now, I've got to get ready to go to the eye doctors. By the next time I post, I may not need to magnify the screen by 200% to see it.

Wish us luck and hope we haven't emptied our quota of good things this week!

Where's Your Deliverer Now?

Apparently at Village Inn.

After much prayer and study and discussion, the Boss is telling the Golden Arches to fly the proverbial kite. Work conditions had been steadily declining ever since a new supervisor was hired to oversee her store. I do not use the word "oversee" lightly.

This miserable son of a beggar has reduced my sweet wife to tears so often that I can hardly stand to think about it. After fifteen years of dedicated service to that company, she had always been a favored employee. She rose on merit and did everything they asked her to. Her sales were always on the increase, but when this no-talent hack of a clown got promoted he decided that she wasn't what he wanted.

Suspiciously, about a week after she told them that she could not go to a week long training course at Hamburger U because of the uncertain condition of my health, she stopped getting compliments and started getting write-ups instead. He wrote her up because even though she met his stated goal for labor costs, she had failed to read his mind and know that he was really expecting her to hit a percentage lower. He didn't bother to tell her this, he just expected her to guess, and wrote her up anyway.

That was when we knew it was time to go. We weren't alone. There has been a mass Exodus of managment ever since this idiot took over, and I have a suspicion that the Boss may be the straw that breaks this Donkey's back. I would love to think that us leaving would cost him his job. To be honest though, neither the Boss or I care. I stand with my favorite "Joe Vs the Volcano" reference.

When Joe quits his job, he tells his boss, "I ought to rip your throat out. But I'm not going to. Because instead; I'm leaving you here...And what could be worse than that?"

So yesterday, she was in a meeting with the Idiot, and he wrote her up again, for some vague failure to meet his impossible expectations. Talk about bad timing. Ten minutes before he darkened her doorway, Village Inn had called the Boss and offered her a position that starts at the same wage she's getting from the Clown after fifteen years.

She came home and we prayed about it and got a sure answer before we could even get to the Amen.

I don't know where I am going to wind up when all is said and done, but I do know this. The Boss is going to be selling pies instead of fries; and I have eaten the last Big Mac of my life. I am a bitter, bitter grudge holder. I have not set a foot inside a Macey's grocery store in ten years. When I quit that dump, I washed my hands of it. I don't care how good their caselot is, I'll never shop there again. Same thing for Mickey D's. My kids have had their last happy meal.

And with that, Joshua blew his horn, and on the fifteenth anniversary of the worst decision the Boss ever made, she had finally removed herself from Egypt and the cruel lash of the task master's fries.

Happy anniversary, baby.

Free at last, Free at last.

WoooooooooooHoooooooooooooooooo!

Now What?

My eyes might be on the upswing, but it's been a bad week for technology. I left my cell phone on the counter near a glass of ice water, and when I went to pick it up, the condensation had soaked it. I was told by several people that if you put a wet cell phone in a bowl of rice, it will dry it out and it will work again, but all the rice did was bloat the battery up. So now I have no cell phone.

Same day, I was typing a post and Squizzle was doing his usual "how can I annoy Dad while he's trying to type...I know, I'll try and hit the keyboard!" act. And so he did. And the screen froze. I took out the battery, plugged it back in, and tried to turn it on, but when I went to type in the password only half the keys worked.

I still need to send it in to get the screen fixed anyway, and we knew we had five kids when we bought it so we got the two year, "don't ask, don't tell" warranty where it is covered for anything up to and including dipping it in a bathtub. So I wasn't too upset.

Until I realized that I don't have a back up disk of all the pictures that I have been taking for the last year. I know when I finally send this beastie in to the repair shop the first thing they are going to do is erase everything. So I was no longer so sanguine about it.

Plus, I started thinking about not being able to post, read the paper, etc, etc. Not so happy.

Then this morning Haggis asks, "Can I play on the computer?"

I've had a headache all day so as sarcastically as possible I say, "Sure the password is ********. If you can get it on let me know, but since half the keys are frozen I have a suspicion that I'm going to be hearing you cry in a minute."

I went back to picking up the living room. Ten minutes later, Haggis says, "I got it!"

Stunned, I came into the kitchen, and she had left clicked the mouse, pulled up a list of accessibility features and added a "type without a keyboard" feature. I had never seen that on a computer before, but when I entered the password, it worked. I was about to blast a backup disk when I realized that upon logging in, all the keys had started working again.

I have no idea why that happened, but since this family seems to be on a bit of a roll regarding Divine Intervention, I have no choice but to subscribe to the theory that some one up there is looking after me.

Modern technology indeed.

I'm just glad I can post again. I was already testing the Internet connection on the Wii to see how long it would take me to post from there.

The answer is For-freaking-ever.

Thanks to all of you who commented on my last post, it garnered a bit more response than usual, and it was nice to see that it affected so many of my friends and family for the positive. Lord knows that it was one of the more emotionally draining things I've written; probably since "The Rooftop". I don't know if we'll get out of this tunnel while in this life, but it's nice to know that at least we have some company in the dark.

And speaking of the rooftop, I spent most of yesterday on mine, completing the spring ritual of setting up the swamp cooler. It is always tough to do that. I think of my brother every second I'm up there and I always take a little longer than I need to connect the water supply tube. This year was a little harder still. I had to remind myself to be patient as I looked as far as I could across the valley and thought about how nice it will be to see the mountains clearly again. Clear vision, Eternal perspective,...guess Ryan was teaching me more than I thought when I wrote that story.

Well, enough for now. Gotta go crack the whip and get the house picked up before the Boss gets home. Tomorrow will be our 15Th wedding anniversary. I can't believe she's put up with me for this long.

And I gotta change my password...again.