Clankin' Around

This post could be described as a "Brain Dump"--
you've been warned.

It's mid-September.
The leaves are starting to turn yellow on my elm tree--
at least I think it's an elm...
I gotta look that up when I remember.
Cuz' really, I have no idea what kinda tree
 is in my front yard.

Whatever it is,
the leaves are starting to turn
and that gets me excited for Fall.

On the homefront,
I am thisclose to parking my Sub in the garage.
Seriously, if it snowed today,
I could squeeze it in--
I wouldn't be able to open my door to get out--
I'd have to crawl over all three rows of seats
and go out the rear cargo door,
but, hey, if it's snowing,
I might be willing to do that.

In the midst of cleaning out the garage on Saturday,
I came across boxes that have been packed for 5 years.
Some that I packed in 2006
because we haven't had a home big enough since then
to open and unpack all of our things.
I'm not kidding.
And this house,
this wonderful house that I am so grateful for (eyes heavenward),
has but one linen closet that is so small,
I'm surprised the builder even wasted ink on the blueprint
to draw it in there,
much less the supplies to make it.
Right now,
I can store 6 towels, 2 hand towels, a washcloth
and a bar of soap in there.
Kinda ridiculous, hunh?
I know.
I cannot just go willy-nilly over linens anymore.
I must use what I have 'til they're plum wore out,
forever and ever
amen.
I must exercise self-control at Target--
averting my eyes at the proper moments
so I do not tempt my homemaker weaknesses
for season-themed hand towels.
No can do.

Whilst unpacking those old boxes,
I did in fact,
back-up the Sub, fill it,
and take a trip to Goodwill.
Which is as near a "high" as I can get in my old age
without causing permanent damage.
Plus, I'm a Mormon
and since getting "high" by any other means
would cause a whole heap a' trouble ,
I'll stick to unloading crapola to Goodwill.

I found another good thing about memory loss though--
finding things I haven't seen in so long
reminded me of Christmas morning as a child:
"Oh my! I forgot I had this!"
"I wondered where that went!"
So that was actually kinda cool.
I'm thinkin' that this coming Saturday
will be THE day I get to actually
make my goal of parking in the garage.

See? I'm such an easy woman to make happy.

What else?
Oh, who wants a former "best dog in the world"?
Aside from digging out under the fence
each and every day to run amuck in the neighborhood,
Riley has impeccable manners.
He does not jump up on you,
he never barks,
he's house-trained,
never chews up things,
and is just as polite as he can be.
But he's an escape artist.
I know just about every neighbor on our street
and down the road
because Riley has introduced us--
he's social like that.
He's just trying to make friends I guess
as he bolts from the yard and trots over to a neighbor,
sits at their feet while they read his nametag
then calls us to say us they have him.
"Oh what a wonderful dog!" they say.
"Yeah, he's really sweet. Just won't stay in our yard. Thanks for calling." I answer.

We've (and by "we've", I mean Mr. W and Joseph)
have tried all kinds of reinforcements
at the digging lines--
chicken wire,
bricks,
stakes in the ground,
dog poop in the holes--
gross, I know, but we read it might help,
which it did for a couple of days.
And now, poor Riley has to be on a lead
when he's outside,
until we replace entire fence slats
because HE HAS EATEN the bottoms completely off.

Great dog.
AKC registered golden retriever.
If you live at Fort Knox or have a brick fence,
he'll be the best dog you've ever owned.
(The pick-up will have to be after 11pm, so none of the kids are awake,
as they do not share my anxiety over meeting all the neighbors,
or chasing a dog around the corner.)
***
Whatelse?
Oh, I have a new calling in the Church.
Teaching Arianna's Primary class of 10 year olds.
Mr. W and I are team-teaching--
which is as near-painful to Mr. W as a root canal.
We have 8 kids in the class.
Three boys and five girls.
The girls are dolls. Easy peasy.
Two of the boys are normal, well-behaved.
However, the other acted like he's at Club Med the first Sunday--
kicked off his shoes,
laid down on the floor...
acting silly,
yammering a mile a minute
thinking he had a novice as a teacher.
BAH HA HA!

I made him get off the floor,
and wouldn't let him participate in a game we were playing
until his shoes were on his feet
and his ears and mouth were ready to cooperate.
I figure if a child goes to school
then they know how to sit still and follow rules.
So I pointed that out to him
to which he replied
"This isn't school! This is Church."
and his classmate responded,
(without prompting from me)
"This is Heavenly Father's house."
I coulda kissed that kid on the noggin!

So this past Sunday,
it was Mr. W's lesson--
now, he's never taught Primary
and I was pretty sure those kids
were going to eat him
alive.

The rowdy kid was trying out a new routine--
he had decided that his chair was actually part of
an invisible space ship that was preparing for Lift-off.
I know.
I know.
I put my hand on his shoulder from behind,
and whispered all the things nice teachers do--
"Listen. This is important."
"Shhhh...you're disturbing your neighbor."
"Shhhh...Brother Anderson is talking."
"Shhhh...before I clonk you."
No, I didn't really threaten him with that--
what I actually said was,
"If you can't do your part, I'll take you to your Dad."
That actually perked his 10 year old ears up
and his mouth sat silent for 13.5 seconds.

The bell rang,
the kids left
and Mr. W looked like he'd been run over by a semi.
He said nothing,
just glazed over eyes,
shaking his head,
wondering what he's just signed on to do.

Then, we went to Sharing Time.
Sharing Time is when all of the Primary kids
get together in one room,
and one child says a prayer,
another offers a scripture,
another shares a 3 minute talk,
then the entire room
plays a game,
learns new songs,
etc.,
TOGETHER.
I don't know why we have this experience in the Church--
akin to letting the monkeys rule the zoo,
but we do
and it's often painful.
Mr W and I have to sit strategically between two rows
with our class.
He sat with the girls, next to Arianna
and I sat smack next to the rowdy kid.
He tried to move around to different rows
different chairs n' such,
but I let him know, he'd be sitting right next to me.
In short, I was his babysitter.
He was disruptive and rude throughout the whole hour
and try as I might,
nothing I said made a difference.
Arianna said, "That's just how he is, Momma."
Hmmm.
If one of my yahoos behaved like a nutball at Church,
I'd clonk them for sure.
So, I'm thinkin' of calling this rowdy kid's mom n' asking her straight up
what I should do with her son come Sunday morning
as he's preparing for Lift-off again in his bare feet.
***

Other things clankin' around my noggin:

Christmas. It's beginning to look alot like it at the stores.
I saw candy canes already.
They're leftover from 1987 you know that, right?
Yeah, candy makers just put so many preservatives
in their treats that they only have to make a fresh batch every
40 years.

OoVoo...David Scott and Tisha ooVoo'd with us Sunday
and let us know they're making plans to move back to Colorado
when he graduates next Spring.
This, from the yahoo who said, at 17 years old,
that he was going to live exactly 600 miles away from me
so I could never "just drop in" on him.
I told him at the time to make it 800 and we'd both be happy.
Turns out,
he misses living by family.
mwah hah hah.


That's it. The clankin' is down to a "click"
so I'm turning it Off.

But hey, I'd sure like to know what's clankin' around your noggin today.
G'head. Spill it.