Don't know why, don't know how; it's just missing. I sit down in my comfy chair, laptop open, and nothing. Can't write, can't even seem to read other blogs, feeling like I'm on the outside, looking in at everyone else. I have managed to come up with my Ten Things of Thankful every week, because there's ALWAYS something to be thankful for, but even that has been a struggle.
I have, however, committed myself to be a part of the 1000 Voices for Compassion, with what now appears to be OVER 1000 bloggers participating who, on February 20, 2015, will speak for compassion through their blog posts. Wish me luck.
Here's the thankful list I've rustled up for this week:
1. I survived Pastries with Pops, a preschool event where dads, grandpas, or other significant males in a preschooler's life come to preschool in the morning and visit the classroom, where we have doughnuts and coffee, milk and juice, and a gift we made for dad. I'm sure I've mentioned before that I do not care for preschool parties. There are too many people in the room, and while I will do anything in front of a preschooler, I feel very awkward and on-display in front of parents. Thankfully, Pastries with Pops is over for another year.
2. I had TWO DAYS of Pastries with Pops. Primary class day and Pre-K class day. Two thankfuls that it's over.
3. The weather hasn't sucked. If I'm not going to get a snow day, the least it could do is be warm, and, while it hasn't been flip flop weather (contrary to what you might see at Walmart), it hasn't been brutally cold, either.
4. Ruby. She loves me so.
5. My friend Lisa from The Meaning of Me has crossed over to the dark side, and I'm so thankful to see her there! I love her to pieces and am glad to get more avenues in which to interact with her.
6. I survived 50's Day in Pre-K. We count each day we attend preshool from the first day of school, and when we reach 50, we have a 1950's-themed party. That day was Friday. I wore a poodle skirt (actually, a Scottie skirt, but it doesn't have the same ring to it) and a pony tail and a scarf around my neck and cat-eye glasses. We play a game in our classroom where we hide 50 numbered Starbursts around the room and the kids have to find them and match them to a number line (we only found 49 of them) and then join the other Pre-K class for dancing, hula hoops, bubble gum bubble blowing, and ice cream sundaes. It is a crazy, hectic morning. There are parents there (see #1, above). Done for another year.
7. The Primary class doesn't celebrate 50 days of preschool. (See #1, above, again.)
8. The college boy came home this weekend to pick up the glasses we ordered for him over Christmas break. I made homemade pizza for supper Friday night (including one with fresh spinach and sauteed mushrooms and another with thinly sliced roma tomatoes and fresh basil for the grown ups in the house), and afterwards, he took his sister to the mall to get some eye liner she needed for show choir competition AND THEY DIDN'T KILL EACH OTHER. In fact, they came in the door laughing. Dare I hope that they are going to keep improving their relationship and quit bickering so much?!
9. I drove to a show choir competition on Saturday (Emma rode the bus) and took a detour through the tiny town (population 400), where my mother grew up, one which holds many happy memories for me. The town has deteriorated into a very crappy place, which is not one of my thankfuls, but it leads to one:
I parked the car half a block (they are very small blocks) from where my great aunts' house once stood and was walking down the (gravel) street towards it to take some pictures when I heard, "WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOF!!!" coming from the crapalicious house to my right. I slowed my step just as a VERY LARGE black dog roared out of his yard (no need for stinkin' leash laws in THIS town) and acted as though he would quite like to eat me up.
I froze and said something along the lines of "shitpissfuckdamnhell" under my breath.
The dog stared at me. Woofed again. Big, scary woof. I snapped a quick picture of him, in case my mauled body was found in a ditch.
I said something stupid, like, "Hi, doggie! Please don't eat me."
He gave me another WOOFWOOFWOOF, but his tail wagged at the same time, as if he WANTED to eat me, but he also wanted to be my friend.
And then I had a brain storm.
I've been driving my dad's Sequoia for a couple of weeks (long, boring story). In a little cubby on the console between the seats, among the other stuff my dad keeps there (flashlight, tire gauge, cough drops, garage door opener, mailbox key, a short piece of pvc pipe) was two dog biscuits. He keeps them there to give to his neighbor's dog (the one he calls his rent-a-dog). So instead of my dad being just a little wacky, I suddenly saw him as nothing short of a GENIUS, because I had something to offer this dog in exchange for my life.
In a ridiculously high, more than slightly terrified voice, I said to him, "Would you like a treat? I have a treat for you!"
He understood THAT, and bounded over to me. For a moment, I thought it was all over, and he thought the treat was ME, but as I walked slowly towards the car, he bounced along next to me, trying to stick his nose in my coat pocket (probably to chew off the hand that I had hidden inside).
"It's in the car! Come on!" I squealed to him, gesturing towards the Sequoia with my other hand, and he trotted ahead of me, stopped at the car door, and waited for me.
When I got to the car, I looked at him and said, "PLEASE don't get in my car. I've already picked up a big dog recently, and I don't need to do it again." I eased open the door, reached inside and picked up the dog biscuit from its place on the top of the console.
"Here you go, buddy!" I said and gingerly held out the dog biscuit, wondering if he would take my arm off when he took it (I could have dropped it down on the road, but that seemed rude). He studied it a moment, then gently took the dog biscuit in his mouth and trotted back down the road and to his yard to enjoy his treat.
I slithered into the driver's seat, shut the door, and was relieved to find that I did not need to change my pants over the whole ordeal.
10. That one is worth 10 things of thankful on its own, but I will still throw in another one, which is that, although Emma's show choir did not place at this competition, they took to heart the critiques from the judges last week and completely revamped the show. They worked long, hard hours and their performance showed it. I was truly surprised they did not place (not a thankful), but you could see how much they improved in a week, and that's something for which to be thankful. I would love to show you a video, but my iphone is on the verge of not being my iphone any longer, as it stopped recording just as their second song began, the screen going black and the whole thing freezing (also not a thankful).
So, there you go. If you think you can fix my mojo issues, feel free to analyze me and offer your suggestions. And link up YOUR Ten Things of Thankful below.
A Fly on our (Chicken Coop) Wall, Amycake and the Dude, Considerings, Finding Ninee, Getting Literal, I Want Backsies, The Meaning of Me, Rewritten, Thankful Me, The Wakefield Doctrine
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