Come on, get happy

I've started this post four times. Everything I write sounds so crabby and self-important I don't want to publish it. So, here are some happies instead. It's still self-important because it's all about me, but what the hell. I'll cap it at 20.

1. Apple pie. OK, any kind of pie. But if it's apple, mine, because mine is better.
2. Roses
3. Sprite with ice
4. Lit candles in every room
5. Finding a clip of a favorite old TV show on YouTube
6. Butt rubs
7. Diamonds
8. Black pearls
9. Real hot chocolate
10. Puppies, dogs
11. Kittens, cats
12. Girl rats, even with giant, horrible tumors
13. Eagles
14. Fresh bread
15. Art fairs
16. My mother laughing so hard she coughs
17. Kelsey dancing
18. Kayleigh talking
19. Eric holding me
20. The four of us playing a board game by the fireplace

How about you? What are some of your happies?

Student Assignment Report

It's progress report time at the high school, and my inbox is filling with files from Kayleigh's teachers. That she can get as low as 21 percent in Effort and still get in the 90s and 100s in the Knowledge and Skills portion of her grades is a testament to what a tremendous waste of time much of the homework assigned really is and makes me wonder what she would be doing if they actually challenged her. Good thing she challenges herself with other things.

My favorite part about these reports is the label on the little icon that accompanies the email attachment: "Student Ass."



Smokin'. What exactly is my daughter being graded on at this school? And do the teachers feel this way about all their students?

Afternoon Wood

Pulling up the hill, I stopped short of my house and parked my little car in front of the neighbors' perfectly kept home and yard. My ragged yard was especially tatty with the pile of branches and leaves growing taller and wider at the curb as Paul and Michael took down our teetering honey locust tree limb by limb. They'd gotten pretty far in only a few hours, down to only a few large bare, branches.

Michael scampered around the tree, cutting, and Paul kept his feet on the ground, holding hard on the ropes tied to the branches Michael had trimmed bit by bit, guiding the wood to the ground, away from our house, away from the maple tree, the ash tree, the ginkgo tree, away from the power lines.

Kayleigh and I glanced up at Michael as we walked up the driveway. He stood on a solid branch, surveying his next move, his next cut.

"You're crazy!" Paul hollered up to him. "You're not walking out on that."

"I'll have to straddle it," he shouted back.

Paul looked at me and smiled. I handed him two water bottles and 65 cents, his change. The water in my house is perfectly fine, as is my bathroom. They prefer to stay outside.

"Straddle it?" I peered up at Michael. "I've never had that much wood between my legs."

I smiled and headed inside.

See you later

Goodbye, friend. I hope my brother met you with open arms.