Possumblog

Where was I?

Oh, yeah--eating lunch. But that’s all done for now, so let’s get back to the exciting story of Saturday! WHEEEEEE!

Got up early (of course) and after getting dressed I rousted Oldest from bed so she could get dressed and we could go. My only instruction to this point had been that she was supposed to be at the Mall (the broad grassy park area that stretches out from in front of the middle school, like the Mall in Washington, except much smaller, and without the Smithsonian) at 8:00, and I thought I recalled being told she was supposed to be set up near the tennis courts in front of the middle school.

Hah.

And then some.

Got her ready and asked if she wanted to go get some breakfast from McDonald’s, which she did, so we took off for there, leaving everyone else at home in the bed. Got to the McD’s, ordered the Crappy Meal for Two, drove around, and…

Yes, you guessed it--I looked to see if I could see the old late-‘70s 242 driven by one of the kids who works there. It’s a mess--broken taillights, big ugly Wal-Mart hubcaps, body as unevenly full of dents and ripples as Janet Reno, duct tape window molding--a rolling junker. Oddly enough, driven by a girl, who for the most part looks about as normal as any other girl. Very odd. Anyway, anytime I go by there, I look to see if the old heap is there. (Because I’m a moron.) Got our food, on to the festival!

Got there and the yard was full of vendors setting up and people wandering around lost. Parked right by the hole in the orange plastic construction barrier, and we got out and started inside. “Take your drink with you.”

“I don’t need it.”

“I know you don’t need it now, just go ahead and take it.”

“I DON’T NEED IT!”

::sigh:: “Look, just take the drink so it’s not left in the van--if you want some, you can drink it. If you don’t, you can throw it away.”

I still have no idea why she didn’t want to take the cup with her. Apparently cool-kid-wannabees think it’s bad to hold cups.

We walked around and down and over and back up, and never really saw anything or anyone who looked like they might be part of the Leo Club group.

“Did they say where--“

“I DON’T KNOW! THEY JUST SAID BE HERE AT EIGHT!”

“--like a general area you were supposed to be at, because I remember Mom saying something about the middle sch--”

“I. DON’T. KNOW--they NEVER said ANYTHING about WHERE we weresupposedtomeetoranything!”

::sigh:: I’m telling you, there’s a gold crown somewhere for me…

We walked on up the side back toward the middle school and the tennis courts. We got to the bleacher area, and I just parked my still-sore rear on the edge of one of the bleachers so we could just wait until someone showed up. It was still a bit early--around 7:50 or so.

“Mom said something about it being near the middle school,” she said, after getting fidgety.

“Uh-huh.” I wasn’t about to say anything else than that, seeing as how I had already been told NO ONE had told HER anything.

“She said the sheet said to meet in the big open area nearest the middle school.”

::silently screaming whilst grinding teeth::

“Well, you know, that’s what I thought--that’s why I was trying to ask you earlier because I thought I remembered her saying that.”

Waiting some more. I decided it wouldn’t hurt to go see if there was a marshal who could possibly direct us, so I went over to the Chamber of Commerce tent, which was occupied by an elderly lady who herself was there to find out where she was supposed to be. She had a sheet of paper that had all the booths listed, and I asked her if I could look at it. Hmm. Nothing. “THERE’S ZACH!” Nice kid came ambling over and they chattered back and forth. You could tell he likes her (Ashley, not the elderly lady), and from what I’ve heard, he’s an okay kid. He wandered on back to his booth and I was finally able to grab a guy driving a cart. He said that he thought they weren’t at a booth, but were supposed to be one of the volunteers to man one of the four entrance gates.

Hmm. We sat back down for a while, it got to be past 8, and then I saw some girl a ways off who had on what looked like the same shirt as Ashley. “Do you know her?”

“Uh, I don’t know.”

We walked back down the mall and sure enough, it was someone from her group, and was even more uninformed about where to meet than we were. We walked around together some, went back to the bleacher area, then saw another girl out on the street walking toward the other end of the mall, talking self-importantly on her cell phone. We walked back to the corner and FINALLY found where they were supposed to be--the exact other end of the park from what we’d been led to believe. To make matters worse, there was no way to get out of the orange plastic fencing to the table and tent at the street corner. “I really don’t think you girls want me to pick you up and put you over the fence, do you?” No. Time to walk back to the opening where I’d parked.

Got back there and I drove them back to the corner, dropped them off, and was ON MY WAY! Called Reba to let her know I had been successful in my dropping-offery and woke her up. Oops. Asked if she wanted breakfast, she said she did, I said I needed to stop by the store and get some cash, she said okay.

Walked into the Food World and was going to just get a Coke, when I got the bright idea I should check and see if they had school supplies--they usually have a pretty good selection, and VOILA! Or, VIOLA! Big display full of stuff. And I actually remembered what all I was supposed to get! Ran back and got a shopping cart, and started grabbing--loose leaf paper, folders with brads, four wire-bound notebooks in green, red, blue, purple, chalk, crayons (again)--got just about everything we needed. Mostly. Almostly.

Got that done, started to go get food, then had to make another stop at Academy to get a couple of backpacks and some small black zip ties to fix the one Ashley had that had a hole in it. I figure there’s no use to throw away a backpack that in all other aspects was nearly as good as new, when it would be so simple to fix it. Of course, I would NEVER be allowed to send one of my CHILDREN to school with such a thing… ::sigh:: I figure I’ll use it as an emergency pack in the trunk of the car.

Then on to breakfast, then home, then more laundry, THEN Reba took Catherine for THEIR special trip to find school clothes.

While they were gone, I waited for it to rain. It had been glowering all morning, and I just knew that if I started the grass, it would come a downpour, or else I would start cutting and Ashley would call and want to come home. So, I compromised by working on the driver’s seat of the Volvo.

For some reason, the driver’s seat had always felt very flopsy--you could grab a corner and the whole seatback would wobble. It was very disconcerting while driving--almost like trying to sit on a basketball, with the seat shifting every time the brakes were applied or the wheel was turned. It really wasn’t a lot, but enough to be dizzying. I figured there was a couple of bolts down there that needed tightening, so I got my wrenches and went to work.

Busy pulling ancient honey-roasted peanuts out from between the seat and the driveshaft tunnel.

Seems the previous owner had a sweet tooth. And poor grip. But when I moved the seat forward all the way, there was a whole pile of nuts and pretzel pieces. After recovering from my swoon, I went and got a paint paddle and tried to get as much of the offending foodstuff scraped out, then brushed and vacuumed the area as best I could. Eyech.

NOW then, the wobblesome seat--I fidgeted around under there and tightened the only bolts I saw, which helped none at all. I decided to monkey with the seatback height adjuster and BINGO, that was it! Just sorta stumbled on that one, but there’s a lever underneath that you can squeeze, and then raise or lower the seatback. There are two tiny metal rods that pull on two metal locking pins, and ONE of those rods had fallen out of place, leaving the locking pin retracted, and allowing the seatback to jiggle freely. Once I got the rod back in and locked, I moved the seat a bit and both pins slammed home, securely locking the seatback once again. Hooray!

Then I cleaned it some more. Lots of stuff in there I thought I had gotten before. Also brushed the faded fuzz from the rear parcel shelf--what a mess that was. But at least it looks mostly blue again, now.

Back inside to cool off, folded some clothes, and decided now that it was noon:30, I should really have already received a call to go pick someone up. Called her cell phone, no answer. Called several more times, no answer.

FINALLY got her to pick up (I know it was probably hard to hear it, because the ticket table was right near all the carnival rides) and asked if she was ready to come home. No.

“Well, I’m coming to get you, then--where will you be?”

I don’t know.

Got Bec and Jonathan and we set out in the Focus this time, because Reba (who had taken the van) needed gas. That will be done after the pickup, which took an inordinate amount of time because a) all of the traffic jammed up on Chalkville Road, and b) the fact that I went to the wrong end of the mall and had to hang a U-turn and maneuver back down a side street that was exactly 2.9 lanes wide, and had cars parked on both sides.

The children were very frightened. But you know, that’s what they get for being my kids.

Found Oldest at the corner, pulled over, got her, then to the gas station, then home. More laundry, and then lunch.

Mom home now with Tiny Terror, they’d found all kinds of cute clothes, and they brought home the remains of THEIR lunch, and I ate Reba’s because in fixing lunch for the other kids, I hadn’t fixed any for myself, in the off-handed hope that Reba would indeed bring me part of her lunch, which came from Gyro Planet.

Which really isn’t a planet at all, but rather a hole-in-the-strip-mall joint. Good food, though.

THEN, it was time for Reba to make her excursion with Boy to get HIM some stuff. As you can see, the idea was that every child would get his or her own special Mommy time, which they all look forward to. Not that I’m jealous--the kids like spending time with Daddy, too, you know. In much the same way that they enjoy getting shots at the doctor’s office.

Anyway, off she went with Jonathan, I did some more clothing, then hopped outside one more time to see what all I could bother on the Volvo. Because I am a moron.

I thought I would see about dyeing the bumpers, and got all my stuff out, but the bumper material is different from the lower bodyside molding, and didn’t take well at all to the Kiwi treatment. It might have been too humid or too dry or too hot or something, but it was very streaky. I wound up taking the little bit back off that I had applied, and going over the entire bumper cover on the front and back with brake fluid. Which is really some evil stuff. I never have quite understood what’s in there to make it so very harmful to paint and everything else in nature, but it’s got some kick to it, whatever it is. I doused a cloth with it and carefully put it on, and the bumpers look a lot better. Not quite as dark as the bodyside, but pretty good nonetheless.

While I was doing that, and pouring buckets of sweat out of me (it now having turned off hot and sunny and nonconducive to grass-cutting) Cat came out and wanted to ride her bicycle. “But it’s a thousand degrees out here, Cat!”

“Daaaad. It’s NOT a thousand degrees!”

I said okay and went back to work trying to kill myself on the driveway when she came back and wanted me to put her up on the seat. ::sigh:: “Catherine, are you SURE you wouldn’t like to do this later when it’s cooler out here? It really is terribly hot, and I’m burning up, and it would be so much nicer after the sun goes down.”

Oh, poor baby. She hung her head and pouted and shuffled her feet along and took her helmet off and acted like she’d lost her onlyest friend. “We can come out later and ride, okay?”

“I don’t want to,” she said, in her tiny, “I’m very hurt emotionally and I may never recover” voice. She’s very accomplished in playing upon the heartstrings. Of course, with my green Vulcan blood, it’s all very much wasted effort. Well, somewhat.

Anywho, she went back inside and I followed her, because it was just too hot to do anything outdoors. More clothes folding, some dishwasher loading, some teevee watching, then upstairs for some graphic designs for items no one in their right mind would ever buy, then it was home with Mommy and Boy, who got some super macho clothing, and believe it or not, I got something, too!

NEW TIGHTY WHITIES!

I think Reba might be tired of the old ones. What there was left of them. (I can be a bit rough on drawers.)

Rest of the evening was uneventful--I typed on Reba’s paper and did more graphics work, watching first the reruns of the Lawrence Welk Show, and then COPS (how’s that for an pair!?), and helped various children with their bathtaking, hairwashing, and nail-clipping before putting them to bed.

Long day, it was.

AND THEN, it was Sunday…

Posted by Terry Oglesby at August 8, 2005 03:18 PM