Thursday, May 04, 2006

Fry the Fly

Fry the Fly 5/4/2006
I just pulled a pan of chocolate chip oatmeal cookies out of the oven, and set the cookie sheet down on the kitchen counter. Didn't realize there was a fly taking a breather there. Boy howdy did that guy buzz out of the way at the very last second.

Last I checked, he's breathing hard (as hard as a fly can breathe, anyways) on a high corner of the cupboard.

That'll teach him for sitting on my kitchen counters.

You'd think there were fresh crumbs or bits of last night's dinner crusted there, or something, that'd make him want to have a little snack. Sheesh. He should know those crumbs are at LEAST a week old. Have some class, Mr. Fly.

Stream of consciousness stuff. I've got 5 minutes before Little Gym.

Last year, I put my very-favourite-in-the-whole-world, there-will-never-be-another-like-you, fit-me-like-a-glove sunglasses in a Very Safe Place.

Since then, I've gone through at least a dozen pairs of sub-par replacements.

I guess it's true. You never forget your first true love.

Sheesh, the three pairs that I got in Gilroy this summer? You'd think at least ONE of them would've fit the bill. One of those pair even LOOKED like my First Love Glasses. But, oh, underneath the skin, they were worlds away. And the five... yes, FIVE pair that I've snagged at Target or Walgreens to try to protect my sickly-pale blue eyes? Talk to the hand, because the eyes, they just ain't listening. (which, when you think about it, is perfectly normal for eyes not to listen, and I've mixed my metaphors beyond salvage)

They're too tight, or they don't stay up my nose, or they pinch my nose in a way that makes me want to throw up (who knew there was an accupressure point for vomit THERE?), or they brush up against my cheek (only the left one) in a too-familiar way, or they crush my eyelashes, or they just make me feel bad, or they started out GREAT, and got a scratch, a nice deep annoying scratch before I'd even got them home the first day.

Sheesh. Tangent much?

Busy day from heck today.

Skip had his Artists Project to present first thing in the aye-em. Gotta take in the old easel from the Famous-Dude-That-We-Bought-Our-Montreal-House-From, for him to present his art on. (Photo to follow in another entry).

Oh, and hello, it's Volunteer Appreciation Brunch at the public library at 9. Yes, please bring Nate.

Whoops. Skip's gonna be singing at NOON! And in full Concert Dress. Meaning he needs the NEXT tie, having been promoted into the fancy-schmancy group. So a quick jaunt from the brunch to the Uniform Store to grab the tie.

Quickly back to the house, dump a load of laundry in. Time to pay bills? Nope. Gotta jet.

Back to the school. Grab Skip, and make him change in the nurse's office. Wait for Skip's buddy to be brought over from the local Middle School, then race the boys down to Palo Alto for their singing gig. Oh, and a quick stop at Safeway on the way beccause I forgot Skip's lunch on the kitchen counter,

Wait in the hotel lobby while the boys sing. I sneak back to the conference room, to watch the show. They sound so good. I'm so proud. I think I got something in my eye. No, maybe it's allergies. No, I do not need a tissue.

Take the boys back to their respective schools.

Snag Kelly and her girlfriend from First Grade. Come home. Play for 20 minutes. Go back to school to collect Skip. Pull back home into the driveway as Skip announces "oh, wait. I think I left my backpack with my homework on the basketball court". Drive BACK to school.

Do dishes.

Make cookies.

Nearly kill a fly.

Make snacks for the kids.

Put away laundry.

Send Skip off on his carpool to Youth Group. Remind myself (write on my hand) that I am picking the kids up from the venue at 7:45.

Make supper for Kelly and her friend.

Leave for Little Gym... five minutes ago. Whoops. I guess they'll be late.

Oh, and driving to the singing gig, I got distracted watching a bus driver putting a mountain bike on the rack on the front of the bus. When I looked back, the rear end of a Beemer was quickly approaching. I slammed on the binders, and missed him by at LEAST an inch. Good thing I just had new brakes installed. The boys were instantly awake.

And as I looked down, on the floor of the passenger side, there were my Best Beloveds. My favourite sunglasses. The ones that had been missing for over a year.

All's right with the world.