In which Ma finds her calling

 
As I sit and listen to Joan Sutherland and Marilyn Horn singing The Flower Duet from "Lakme", I am contemplating the large upswing in visitors to the blog yesterday--as evidenced by a gander at the stat counter--and cannot help but think that retelling my varmint-killing experiences might well be the writing niche I've been seeking these past years.

I am grievously tempted to dust off the "Rat Tales," which, while never written down, I can assure you are forever etched in that part of the mind reserved for frightful experiences that one hopes to forget and therefore cannot.

They may not be as fantastical as tales from Stephen King, but unlike his, mine are all true.

But first, I have bigger fish to fry. In fact, I have little fries that need taking to testing on the morrow.

Carolyn, Ethan and Nolan will be rising at the crack of dawn to eat a mind-stimulating breakfast of eggs and bagels, after which we will travel to the great city of Waterloo. There, various homeschoolers will meet for their annual testing assessment held at the building devoted to "Special Education."

*sigh*

SO glad the kids are pretty much over their colds. That illness interrupted the usual routine but I decided to use it for some basic review before testing. This mostly involved Nolan, checking through the four math procedures and their variations.

But more importantly, will the kid have clean socks to wear?

All winter long his drawer had 7-9 pair of socks lying forlorn and unattended. That's because he went barefoot all through the season of snow...at least in the house.

His preferred mode of dress was shorts and a T-shirt.

But with the coming of spring and heightened outdoor opportunities, the sock drawer is empty. Equally amazingly, no socks turn up in the dirty laundry.

Fortunately I discovered two pair of socks in other parts of the house. I have washed and stowed them safely in my bedroom until the appointed days of testing.

I'll just bet that more socks reside in the one-foot-deep mess of his closet floor, but I hesitate to reveal that because I can just HEAR the admonitions from people who keep perfect homes. So I'm not gonna mention it.

Besides, if you had to knock off as many varmints as I've have over the years, you might be missing a sock or three your-selves.

Go ahead....MAKE my day...
 

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