Working Through the List

The plan, of course, is always to post just about every seven days or so... after all, there are a few people who read this from time to time and I'd hate for them to think I'd given up and gone on the road as a professional Sudokuist (Sudokuer?). Rest assured, I haven't abandoned the goal of posting as often as possible. In fact, if you could read my mind, what a tale my thoughts would tell. Of course, if you could read my mind, I wouldn't have a reason to post at all.

No, I fully expect I would have posted this weekend if not for another episode of "Cancel School Just in Case", brought to you by our friends at the local school district. And yes, the forecast was relatively scary, but I would really advocate the use of that old-school weather forecasting technique called "looking out the window".

I don't like to be The Guy Who Grumbles About the Way Things Were In the Old Days (OK, I do -- "curmudgeon" can be pretty funny -- but at least I try not to overdo it), but quite clearly things were different when I was a student. The schools always gave the impression they were looking for excuses not to cancel. Now I wonder if the frequency of lawsuits doesn't have the administrators figuring it's better to eliminate any chance of an incident.

It wasn't just the kids' unscheduled presence that put a ripple in the schedule; I was also trying to put together the powerpoints we use in worship. That took forever, due in large part to the fact that the church laptop I use has about the same speed and memory as an Etch-a-Sketch. For that I can blame the person who arranged its purchase -- which is extremely convenient because he's right here in this chair.

Fortunately all that effort was vindicated by the production of an outstanding, error-free presentation... no, wait, not that either. The less said about that, the better; but all in all, pretty close to what Mom used to call an Alexander day.

Meanwhile, the daily chores go on. I know laundry has to be easier than it was in the "pounding on a rock" era, or even the "manual-wringer" era -- they called Mondays "Laundry Day" for a reason -- but on the other hand, in frontier days people had, what, one change of clothes? Not counting Sunday-Go-To-Meetin' clothes. Granted I wouldn't want to be downwind, but the laundry volume had to be a lot smaller. It's not unusual for my daughter to go through multiple changes in one day all by herself ... although some of it is fairly necessary, since she is hard on clothes. Apparently it's prohibited by law to just laminate her.

That's another thing. In those days the four-year-old was caring for the chickens and the seven-year-old was out plowing the back forty, out from under foot like God intended. I have to be like Peyton Manning, with a clock constantly running in my head: the difference is, he's calcluating how long he has to throw before the rush gets him; I'm calculating how much laundry I can get done before WW III breaks out downstairs.

At such times I go to the Priority Folding Protocol, where stuff like socks & underwear is triaged into the "fold later (maybe even tomorrow (OK, next day at the latest))" pile. As a result I found myself faced with a significant clean-sock pile. With my gift for hyperbole in the pursuit of a laugh -- did you know I use hyperbole more than anyone else in the history of written communication? -- I said (yes, said aloud; I'm That Guy too), "I'll bet there are 50 pairs of socks here!"

Of course, I was just complaining to myself, and besides I can never guess the number of M&Ms in the jar, so I wasn't surprised when the count came up short of 50... in fact, there were only 43 pairs (plus 3 odd socks).

And by the way, don't even let me get started on the whole question of why they make "hand wash only" clothes in size 4T.