Deviation from the norm shall be greeted with distrust and hostility. Okay, so maybe I’m not hostile, but I’m certainly on edge due to some major changes that were out of my control. That last part is big. Not that I’m a control freak, but when circumstances impact my family I tend to be put off when I don’t have a say in the matter.
At the end of this last week, literally 15 minutes before work let out, I was informed that starting Monday I’ll be working in another school. I’ll not lose any work hours, but my schedule will be different. As a result, my DH needs to change his work hours. We’re still trying to shuffle and juggle how we’ll get the girls to their different activities and school. The move had nothing to do with my performance, but was due to the powers that be needing to shift staffing at the school I’m going to for some cryptic reason. I love my co-workers and the students I worked with. Holy moly, my feeble little brain didn’t even have time to digest that I was leaving… and worse, I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye to anyone. I barely escaped turning in my keys without collapsing into a blubbering ball of goo. Please understand, I’m grateful to have a job, but the abrupt nature of the change is upsetting.
Fortunately, my DH is home from work travels. When he’s away the girls and I fall into a relaxed version of survival mode. niceties, such as regular meal times and folded laundry are replaced with haphazard snacking, Subway for dinner and rooting through the clean clothes pile to find something to wear. Had the work change happened while he was still gone then getting everyone to their respective destinations on time wouldn’t even be plausible.
Enough whining about work, there have been other, less drastic changes in our home too. First, Steven is no longer a kitten. He is growing into a huge, snuggly, mature cat.
He’s napping more and more and has calmed down nicely. He still plays raucous games of tag with Roxanna, but not as often, and he gives up the chase long before she does. Because of his lethargy she’s had to find new sources of entertainment in the evenings. Her favorite activity now is to sit near the front door, waiting for moths to flutter against the outside glass. When several have collected then she launches herself at the glass trying to catch them. We’re getting used to hearing the “Whack” of her empty little head smacking against the glass. The sound is always followed by the dull thud of her hitting the floor, or occasionally the mad scramble of claws as she tries to hang from the sill on the door with futility.
Bonny watches the goings on with boredom and disdain. She’s only 5, but she already possesses an old and crotchety air more often than not.
A1 is seldom at home any more. Between school activities and her social life, she’s like a ghost. The only tangible evidence of her existence is the ubiquitous dirty laundry and occasionally finding the bathroom occupied with the door locked.
A1 and friend at football game
A2 is getting taller and she can almost look me straight in the eye now. She’s loving Jazz Band and this afternoon she has another date to go to the archery range with her dad. She’s also sporting a new look! I love the blue. A few people have raised their eyebrows in disapproval at my parenting for allowing this. To them I reply, “It’s hair. It fades, grows out and isn’t hurting anybody.” She’s contemplating switching to contacts too. We need an appointment to check out the possibility.
A3 also transformed her tresses. She now flaunts an adorable bob, with discreet flashes of green amid her locks. She’s doing well academically in school, but this year she’s having a rough go of the social scene. In addition to her Aspberger’s making for awkward relations she’s become the target of bullying by some of the more “popular” girls. She’s miserable at school, but those responsible for the torment are sneaky and never seem to get caught, whereas A3 tends to have outbursts when she’s upset, and often gets in trouble for her responses to them. The situation has my full attention and I’m taking actions at her school.
There hasn’t been much in the way of productivity, not only due to the lack of time, but also due to a crucial lack of creativity. The knitted jacket sits, mostly done, but not, because I’ve no idea how to finish it. Does it need a wide collar or a hood? Would buttons, a belted tie, clasps or a combination work best for closure? Do I want pockets, and if so then how many and where should they be placed. With everything else happening now these little decisions are daunting.
I’ve not touched the spinning wheel, but I did manage to find some lovely handspun at a garage sale. It’s a wool, mohair blend. The yarn on the right looks brown on my monitor, but it actually has a purple undertone in person. There are no plans for this yarn. For now I’m happy to look at it.
Elsewhere, my parents are fully entrenched in cranberry harvest. The recent bout of wind and rain is sure to be making their progress slow and miserable. Wet cranberry vines and leaves tend to gum up the machinery and wet berries don’t store well while waiting for pick up and transfer. Please send dry thoughts their way. I hear there were some awesome clam tides this weekend on the coast. Maybe they were able to ditch the cranberries and go clam digging. Cheers!