I’m making myself sit here and write this. Don’t expect brilliance.
When we last left our saga, I had my nose all out of joint because of the lack of work done around here. Okay, some of that was my fault, too. So after uploading the last entry, I wandered upstairs and took a look around. My choices were:
a) balance Ron’s company chequebook
b) do dishes
c) build a closet in the girls’ bedroom.
So, you know me, I dug out some spare 2×4’s (yes, they were literally lying around – well, propped up againt the wall in said bedroom), found the Workmate Workbench, and various other tools including the circular saw.
I followed the carpenter’s creed of measure twice, cut once, and DANG! wasn’t I shocked when everything fit. Well, close enough anway. One ceiling joist was warped or something so I had to tap the closet wall in place. Some of those 2×4’s were spruce, and that has got to be one of the hardest woods there is. It was a pain to cut, and a bigger pain to nail. Hubby, like a lot of men who build things, has a collection of perfectly fine used nails, which were the only nails I could find without any effort.
Partway through my sweaty task I was interrupted by the Avon lady. Yes, they still exist. I felt guilty because I didn’t want anything. Well, there were a couple things I *wanted*, but she also likes to be paid, so I had no order for her.
Back to the closet.
Really, since it is only a closet tucked behind the door (or where the door will be) I had one 20″ wide wall to build and nail in place. I didn’t drywall or spakle or anything fancy, either. As a matter of fact, the dowels (empty plotter paper rolls – those are sturdy) are just resting on their cleats because I’m not sure how to anchor the ends without a drill bit big enough. A router would have come n handy, but that’s one of the few power tools we don’t have.
All in all, it made me feel like I acomplished something.
Today so far I went to the store and the post office. I mailed about 30 or 40 more catalogues to Quebec and Ontario. I also picked up bread becasue I didn’t feel like making any. It was on sale for $1.19 a loaf. I remembered this morning that no, I can’t sleep in tomorrow because the girls are going to a Girl Guide rally with 100 otehr screaming girls. The last time I went as a leader. This time, I’m dropping them off and squealing my tires as I leave.
The one thing that bugged me about it before was pretty incredulous, I thought. For our group, we have to leave at 7:30 to get there on time for 8:30. Most of the girls that were there had a 10 minute drive, if that. It wasn’t even the scheduled snack time when the girls in my group were complaining they were hungry.
“Whatcha have for breakfast?” I asked, figuring it must’ve been some sugar coated cardboard or something.
“Nothing.” a lot of them answered.
“WHAT?!?” I couldn’t beleve they had *nothing*, Its not like the majority were from poor families that wouldn’t have ahd any food in the house, you have to have money, and lots of it if your girls are involved in this sort of thing. And this was a military base town.
“Yeah,” one little girls volunteers, “My Mom said we were in too much of a hurry this morning.”
“Mine too,” most of the rest pipe up.
So I let them eat some of their snack, what else could I do?
I mean it’s one thing if you skip breakfast, but to not feed your kid is another. It’s not like they were driving, they can eat in the car for that matter. Fruit transports well. Unfortunately I have the sneaking suspicion that the kids who go to school hungry, at least some of them are hungry not becasue of lack of food in the house, but because Mommy and Daddy couldn’t be bothered. Why not? Someone else will do the parenting for them.
And that’s all I have to say about that. The time is 12:05 and my kids are hungry. I have to go feed them whether it’s convenient for me or not.