Up early Sunday, sore, dressed, tried to get everyone else up and out of bed and dressed. Aww. Poor family is so tired! Daddy Drill Instructor keeps disturbing their sleep!
Finally got everyone up, dressed, fed, and to the church building. Taught my class, were the youngsters learned that Simon should have quit while he was ahead. On to worship, where we were once again blessed with an invigorating sermon, as well as constantly being kicked in the back of the pew by the children behind us. I think it’s time to change seats.
Afterwards, time to stay.
::sigh::
Seems Reba had a meeting, although her fellow worker on the project was not going to be back in town for it. And by now, the whole project consists of our kids and one other set of kids, and they weren’t there. So, basically, we were having a meeting with ourselves.
Why? Well, see, we’ve got this big church-related convention coming up this weekend that we go to every year (the thing where the kids compete at various things such as Bible Bowl and stuff), and Reba somehow got saddled with helping to coordinate the making of what is quaintly called a “banner,” and is used to identify each congregation participating. For some reason, there is an “eclectic” class, which is intended to encompass every other single thing that can be used to identify a group of persons OTHER than by using a swatch of fabric with their name on it, and every year, we enter this category. These things can get to be quite elaborate. On the other hand, we only have until Wednesday to finish it, and on Sunday, nothing had been done to it. So we had a lot of work to do. By ourselves.
After several minutes of arguing about which purveyor of fast food I was going to go to in order to get lunch, I took off and bought it and brought it back to the building. We ate, and then there was the time to figure things out with the “banner.”
Now, up until this point, I had assiduously avoided having anything whatsoever to do with any of this process. I have enough to do without having to get wrung in with something like this. No sirreebob. “Well, we’re supposed to have a piece of black plywood she said she found somewhere," ("she" being the other person who was running the show) "but I don’t know where it is.”
::sigh:: A signal for me to start looking.
I looked, but they found it without me.
“And we’re supposed to have some little white lights somewhere.”
The idea, as I understood it, was that there would be lights around the perimeter, or something, since the theme of the convention has to do with letting your light shine, and then there'd be pictures of the kids from church on there, and then a mirror in the middle, with the idea that you’d look into it and see YOUR light shining, too!
Or something. I was baffled.
Anyway, they managed to find the white twinkly lights. Only half the string worked. And there was the issue of how to get the lights attached to the board. Drills were mentioned. “Don’t we have a drill?”
Yes, of course we do.
::sigh::
I know I’m going to get roped into this.
They finished up printing off some photos of various folks, and we figured we’d swing by Michael’s and see what sort of crafty stuff we could find, and see if we could find a mirror to stick on the small piece of black plywood. OFF TO MICHAEL’S!
Found a rectangular mirror, then found another one that was round. Hmm. Round better--because it has to have the theme statement somehow written on it, and if it’s round, I--who have now been volunteered to write the slogan in some medium--will find it easier because I won’t have to figure out where all the lettering should stop and start.
But, what to write with?
Reba kept saying paint, which is a bad thing to do on a mirror, especially if done by a large, impatient, angry man. Rub on letters. Bingo! Found some, in a girly-looking script. Stick those babies on the glass and yer done.
Need to affix the mirror. Reba kept saying hot glue. Bad idea--doesn’t do well with non-porous stuff--need something quick and easy. Double-sided foam tape. Got it.
Now then--those lights aren’t gonna cut it. Too bulky, to much drilling, too many lights. Need dollhouse lights. They don’t have any, but they DO have the coolest thing in the world--a fiber optic decoration that goes in flower arrangements! I figure you drill some small holes, and poke the fibers through, and it begins to look less like a theater marquee and more like a constellation of twinkly stars! CLEVER ME!
Me not moron!
Well, me am a moron, but let’s just keep that between us, okay?
Anyway, an added benefit is that it’s battery powered, meaning no troublesome electrical cord. Which is just as well, seeing as how late Sunday I finally decided if I was going to do this, I probably needed to read the rules. No plugs allowed. Whew. Glad I found out.
Got the kids together, who’d been strung out all over the store touching things they oughtn’t, paid, and headed toward home. I got to the top of the hill, and despite knowing better, I said, “You know what would be better than that hunk of plywood?”
“Foam core board?”
“BLACK foam core board--that way, I could just stick a pin through it to feed the fiber optics through and we wouldn’t have to drill anything, and it’d be a lot lighter.”
Thus guaranteeing I’d have to run back to the craft store after I dropped everyone out at the house.
::sigh::
Dropped the family off, ran back, got a nice flat, slick, black-through-and-through sheet of foam core and ran home again--thankfully, it’s not that far of a run.
NOW THEN--running out of time, because I had to be back at church for a 4:30 meeting. Get mirror, get letters, start applying. I might not be good at anything else, but by doggies I can do press-on letters! Back in the olden days before you whippersnappers with your computers came along, that’s the way we professionals would do presentation boards--one sticky letter at a time. Too fast for you? Try doing rub-on letters! And those were extra-hatefilled when it came time to fix the inevitable spelling errors. Nothing like trying to use a bit of Scotch tape to gently take up the word “Elevevation” to make the word “Elevation.”
This with the glass was pretty hard, in that the only guideline I had was the bevel on the edge of the mirror, and I was working in a circle. But, it turned out looking very spiffy. Probably will wind up being TOO spiffy, since they seem to like stuff that was obviously done by kids. Whatever. Pressed the letters down for good, then flipped the mirror over to apply the foam tape. Done. “FOAM CORE!” Foam core on the table. Centered the mirror by eyeball method and held it mere millimeters above the surface. “YARDSTICK!” Eyeball precision still working at high level--no adjustment needed. Drop mirror final fraction, and SUCCESS!
All that’s left are to attach the pictures, and run the little twinkly fibers. Somehow, I sense impending disaster…
On back to the building, had my meeting, had our evening service, then on back toward home. We still had laundry to do, after all. LOTS of laundry. And there was this matter of supper the children kept bugging me about.
I suggested pizza.
I am a hero.
Call Domino’s after we get home. Two large, one meat lover, one supreme, one order of cheese bread. “That’ll be $42.”
WHAT!?
Which is exactly what I nearly shouted into the phone.
“WHAT!? FORTY TWO BUCKS for TWO PIZZAS!?”
“Well, sir, you ordered one large Extravaganza, which is what we call our supreme, and it’s $21, but if you hold on a moment I’m sure we can offer you a lower price on that…”
That’s still nearly twenty bucks for just a plain old NON-supreme pizza and some pizza dough--who’s this guy kidding!?
“No, that’s okay, I think we can just cancel the order right now and-”
“Okay, thank you, sir.”
Click.
::blink::
I think whoever answered the telephone at the Domino’s on Main Street in Trussville at approximately 7:45 last evening must ENJOY KNOWING HE CAN PULL DOWN A PAYCHECK even if he ACTIVELY ALIENATES CUSTOMERS!
Way to go, dude!
Well, fart.
Even though I had gotten all my church clothes off and was in my usual lounge attire of ratty shorts and tee-shirt, I was about ready just to go to the grocery store and get some pizza. “What about Pizza Hut?”
Well. Eh. They’re slow, and the usual delivery guy makes me highly uncomfortable. I really didn’t want to wait another hour for a pizza.
“What about Papa John’s?”
Hmm. For some reason, we never call them. Could be because their number’s not in our little crappy CenturyTel phone book. What about if I...
SAY--them there Internets can look up phone numbers for you!
Not only that, I found out you can order online, too. AND I DID!
How is this happening? How have I gone from being so backward to ordering pizza online? I don’t know. Thankfully, lest I become too enamored of technology for the sake of technology, although my pizza arrived in thirty minutes, the delivery driver had to call me twice for directions.
If they can get pizza orders from the Internet, it seems like a logical solution for their software to spit out a map to the person’s house attached to the order. Slap it on top of the box with tape and away with ye! I guess not. I might suggest that to them.
Anyway, two big pizzas, an order of garlic bread, $22. And the driver got a $3 tip because she was cute.
Mmm. That’s good pizza. It’s funny, too, because Domino’s is right down at the foot of the hill, and it always takes them at least 45 minutes to deliver, and Papa John’s is way over by the Interstate, and even with a bad sense of direction, they still got the food there in 30 minutes. Goodbye, Domino’s.
So, more laundry, and other junk, then the kids into bed, then us into bed. It took me a long time to finally get to sleep, though, what with all the events of the weekend still fresh on my mind. I probably tossed and turned for a whole five seconds before dropping off.
AND NOW, here we all are again! I may take a nap.
Posted by Terry Oglesby at April 10, 2006 01:41 PMEver think about just letting your light be under a basket. A plain one at that. Might not be representative but it is easy.
Posted by: jim at April 10, 2006 02:11 PMWow. Your creativity waay topped my creativity this weekend. All I did was take a black picture frame, wiped off the black with laquer thinner and repaint it white.
Terry, I get tired just reading about all your exploits!
Posted by: Nate at April 10, 2006 02:12 PMI'm with Nate. I amy have to start skipping Monday Possumblog because they just make me tired.
Posted by: Larry Anderson at April 10, 2006 02:20 PMPapa John's is pretty good. I like the garlic dipping sauce for the crusts.
Posted by: Sarah G. at April 10, 2006 02:22 PMBut, Jim! No man, when he hath lighted a lamp, putteth it in a cellar, neither under the bushel, but on the stand, that they which enter in may see the light!
As for tiredness, it makes me tired, too. And think--it's been about this pace for the past 14 years.
AS FOR GARLIC SAUCE--yes, it was very tasty, although one of the things leaked and got greasy garlic juice all over one of the boxes. I hated having to suck on all that cardboard.
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at April 10, 2006 02:27 PMMmm, garlicly cardboard.
Posted by: Sarah G. at April 10, 2006 02:52 PMIt was strangely unsatisfying.
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at April 10, 2006 03:04 PMI always order our pizza over the internet. It's always been a family bone of contention as to who would actually have to call and talk to the pizza people, so being able to order pizza without dealing with telephones or human beings has been a big improvement as far as I'm concerned.
Posted by: Jordana at April 11, 2006 07:46 AMIt's like e-mail and a bunch of other stuff like that--sometimes, you really would appreciate a bit of distance from the person on the other end. And you generally get better service, because you're not having to deal with all the background distractions at the pizza place. Boy, those places are loud. How loud can pizza dough be!?
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at April 11, 2006 07:56 AMGarlicky cardboard...garlicky cardboard.
Reminds me of something, but I can't figure what, exactly.
Posted by: skinnydan at April 11, 2006 11:03 AM::snort:: Which is tastier, the box or the contents?
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at April 11, 2006 11:19 AMIf you need to ask, you are clearly not a Hebrew.
Posted by: skinnydan at April 11, 2006 11:33 AMThat might also explain that big pack of bacon in the refrigerator...
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at April 11, 2006 11:38 AMIt might, but I doubt it.
Posted by: skinnydan at April 11, 2006 02:48 PM