How come bad days never get better?

The rain made the roads bad, but I made it to drop off the kids at day camp on time, then on to the radiology office to pick up my x-rays of my arm. But their printer wasn't working, so I only had a written report to take to my orthopedic appointment at 9:15. I arrive 10 minutes early, but at the wrong office. I called the number on the referral and went to the address listed. Someone had transposed the information for my benefit.

I got the directions to the correct office and the 20 minute drive took 45. Then I had to wait another 75 minutes to be seen. I had asked at the first office when I could be seen there instead of being late at the other, but she said July 10th.

This was all before lunch, too.

Sheesh. Ever had a day that couldn't get better at all?

'Tis the vacation season. Many of my neighbors look to me to house sit while they are gone. For lack of massive amounts of personal vacation time accrued keeps me the go-to gal.

One neighbor has a blue and yellow macaw. She's a pretty bird and big! Makes our parakeets smaller than tiny. Sometimes I take her out of her cage, but her beak scares me, so I don't do it often.

Another neighbor has a pool. Since our family has a membership to a community pool, we're not really programmed to take advantage of available swim time. But I still need to check things. We had a record-breaking 5.2 inches of rain yesterday and the pool was quite full, about two inches from the top. Note to self: come back later and back-wash if it keeps raining. Then I check the skimmers. After I lifted the lid I peer down onto a frog trapped by the high water. I helped him out, but he went back into the pool.

OK, I kinda get the frog-water therefore pool thing, but when I got home, I found another frog. This time in the space between the refrigerator and freezer doors on the fridge in the garage. I guess frogs even like to go someplace new.

You ever find a frog in a different place?

There is a certain amount of anxiety when you take a dish to a pot-luck where there will be people who don't know you well or at all. Especially when you "steal" the recipe from someone and have never actually field tested it yourself. CG's sister makes a great mango salsa dish she brings to CG's pool parties. I made it and took it to the company picnic yesterday. I made it without actual instructions, measurements or anything. I was relieved to take home an empty bowl, scraped clean. whew!

It was great to see my daughter Fern come home happy last night. She and her dad went to the Orioles game and came back jazzed. She got two autographs and almost one from Migel Tejada but it was time for him to go out on the field. They stayed for the whole game, which is an accomplishment for Fern because of her tendancy to get bored after a couple of innings.

I spent the evening driving all over Glen Burnie. I took my son to the Costco (american cheese slices & paper towels), Walmart (a new watch for Fern and bubble bath, forgot a hair brush, two broke this week) and to play mini golf and the place by the airport. I had him write the scores down on the card. It was good practice for him to write smaller given the size of the boxes. The evening was beautiful, complete with a constant flow of landing jets close enough to read "Air Tran," "Southwest," and "America West" as they decended for landing. He's come a long way with loud noises, he didn't cover his ears once.

I got to play golf three times in three days. And it's been hot! I must be nuts. I'm still at the point in my game where I'd prefer to play 9 instead of 18, so playing 18 on Monday in the heat of the day, walking was a killer; I felt faint much of the front nine, even though I had two or three cups of water at each cooler station. I ended up renting a cart for the back nine and felt much better. A thunderstorm cut play short so I only got 16 holes in. I extrapolated my progress and posted a 126.

Yesterday I had a doctor's appointment that finished too late to go back to work, so I was able to get nine in before I had to pick up the kids. After I finished the first hole I noticed a guy playing behind me so I waited for him after I teed off on two. He could either play through, or play with me. When He approached I recognized him from another course. About a month ago my husband and I played together and we met this guy in the group behind us. It was kind of slow that day and his group would catch up with us on some of the longer holes. It turns out he is a new pro and besides being good, was very encouraging and helpful. I ended up playing pretty well, for me that is; I got a 49 (par 31). The lesson for the day was: trust what your club can do, don't force it.

We have a ROUS living with us. Any fan of Princess Bride will
immediately know that is a "rodent of unusual size." Ours isn't as big
as those in the movie, but this guy is pretty big. It's a groundhog
who lives under our screen-porch. I've seen him about 3 times this
spring already, usually I only see him once a year. Wonder if he'd
like a pile of pea pods to chew on.....?

Anyone else have an unusual creature among their midsts?

I played the back nine at Glenn Dale Golf Club again last night, got a 65. On a couple holes I just didn't hit well, which is very irritating. It was kind of like soccer with a stick. I got tired of watching the ball skitter across the ground. The other thing that is irritating is losing three balls. I like to play with brightly colored balls so I can find them easily, but sometimes even orange balls can disappear. Like, into a pond.

On the back nine there are three holes (11, 14, & 18) that you tee off at the top of a blind hill, and, if you're a beginner, hope you can find the ball when you get down the hill since you can't see it land. One of the balls I lost was on 14. I hit off to the right, but had no luck finding it. It should have been there! Maybe it rolled under the lightning shelter...
Total for the evening: 3 lost balls, two orange, one purple, six found balls, all white. Oh well.

The upside is I played by my self and finished 9 holes in under two hours, compared with my previous round playing with others and finishing in over three hours. If I hadn't lost those balls I could have finished closer to an hour and a half..

Must practice, must play more golf.

When was the last time you tried to buy a jar of mustard? I tried last night. My husband put "mustard (not squeeze)" on the shopping list. Basic yellow mustard seems to only come in squeeze bottles these days. Granted it's convenient, but squeeze bottles are prone to dripping yellow water on your food before the condiment is squirted out. Not exactly appetizing. Sure, a jar of "Grey Poupon" is still available, but I'm not planning on sharing it out the window of my Benz at a polo match anytime soon.

Kids need more exercise and during the school year it comes in the form of PE class.

This time last year they were splitting up the local middle school putting half of the students in another building, an old elementary, which was an old middle school. They decided to keep the special ed program together at one school, so my autistic son would not change schools. He'll have two more years there. The routine at this school is to have PE every other day all year long.

We live in the area served by the other school so my daughter will go to sixth grade there in the fall. Imagine my shock when I learned at parent orientation she would have PE for only one quarter! Look around! kids are out of shape and over weight. Why, then, is it a good idea to schedule classes like this? CG's daughter had one quarter of Spanish last year. How on earth is she supposed to remember anything from year to year?

Isn't one of the goals of education to make the students better people prepared for the future? How is this system supposed to make the students at this school better people with these scheduling policies? Why are these policies different from my son's school on the other side of town? Don't they see the lack of PE will lead to vanity sizing in the negative digits?

Another Round of Golf

I got my handicap index last week: 40.4. That's about as high as you can go. I'm not embarrassed, I'm a beginner.

On Monday this week I played with the beginner women's group at my local golf club. The woman I was paired up with was in my class when I took lessons in April, so we knew each other. I told her I was keeping score to go towards my handicap, and she made a comment, something about being a beginner and she wasn't ready to do that. I view getting a handicap as a record of improvement, along with my scores with putt count. If my handicap is 40.4 this June, then I'd like to break 35 by the fall. Some new golfers look at their scores and set a goal of breaking 100. If you play really easy courses, that is within reach a lot faster than if you play harder courses. So I think the index gives a better overall improvement picture.

One of the lessons taught in my class was held on course, a walking lesson where playing etiquette is discussed. The most important point being play "ready golf." On Monday we got paired up with another twosome who did not know how to play ready golf. One irritating moment was when I was putting, having the furthest ball away from the hole. The other three balls were closer and on my left. Their owners were on my right waiting for me to putt, not standing behind their ball, getting ready.

The long and short of the evening was it took 3:20 to play 9 holes. sheesh. But the good part was the last hole is a long par-5 hole, severe dogleg to the left. I shot a 6. In the dark, I might add.

I passed, then got passed by a chicken truck yesterday while driving on the interstate. The truck was loaded with cages of chickens. I couldn't tell, but there might have been two birds in each. The cages were stacked five across, about 7 high for the whole length of the 18-wheeler.

In the wake of the flying feathers, I asked my daughter if she'd rather be a chicken in one of the outside cages, exposed to the wind and rain, or inside with neighbors close in on all six sides.

She'd rather not be a chicken.

Twilight Zone

I live in a neighborhood with three basic styles of houses, colonial, split, and a cape. Some of the houses are flipped, some have porches, some don't, so you really don't notice there are only 3 varieties at first when you're driving through. My friend CG has a colonial and I have a split so visiting her doesn't jar my brain.

Last year our wing at work had plumbing problems so in order to go to the restroom, I had to go to another wing. It was like going to a neighbor's house, the layout is the same, but it's just different, different magazines on the table or the mirror would be further along the wall.

Last night I visited another neighbor. I was cookie mom for my daughter's Girl Scout troop this year and had to deliver the prizes to the troop leader. Her house is my model, just reversed. It always jars my brain to go there because things aren't where they are supposed to be. I'm usually good with all things spatial, so why is hard to adjust my brain when I visit neighbor's houses or office bathrooms?