It would appear that my blog is going the way of my EpiLady. Seemes like a good idea at first, but really, it gets boring having your leg hairs ripped out by the root. So it gets used less and less until, one day, you sell your blog, along with a set of Caruso Steam Curlers, for $1.25 at a yard sale.
Anyone wanna buy a blog?
So, if you are one of my long-neglected readers returning, you might be wondering, "Yo. What the crap? What is the big deal with writing a post now and then?" Truth be told, it is quite a big deal for me. I just don't...know. I don't have any ambition for this right now.
But enough of that.
I'll try to fill you in on some things that I've been up to since I last wrote.
Let's go back in time. Waaaay back. Close your eyes.
Open them. (Or not. I guess it all depends if you want to just drift back in time willy-nilly or if you want to actually follow along.)
We're going to go way back to April. April 9th to be exact. What was going on that day? Well, that was the day I was taking my LAST CLASS that I needed before I could apply to take my broker's exam. The LAST one! This, my friends, has been years in the making. Years, I tell ya.
So, yeah. The very last one. It was in a town that I now forget the name of but remember to be a suburb of Philadelphia. Which means a two hour drive for me.
It's not the two hours that I minded. With enough coffee and cd's, I'll happily drive for two years. And it wasn't really the idea of herding myself into the morning rush hour traffic into the city. While it's not my cup of tea, I can deal with it now and then.
No, the problem this day came from, as you might have guessed, one of my goats. The goat I wasn't quite sure was baking little buns in her oven or not. As luck would have it, she was. And as lack of luck would have it, she decided to have them that day.
I don't know if there are words to describe just how sucky that predicament is. On one hand, I have no idea when I'll be able to reschedule the needed class - months, years, whatever. Which means I would have no closure in my Quest for the Broker's License.
On the other hand, I have a goat about to give birth.
After carefully weighing all the options, I did the prudent thing and left my teenage son in charge of the goat.
Well, he didn't really know I left him in charge of her as I poked my head into his bedchamber and yelled, "I have to go to class! Rhubarb might have her babies today! Make sure you keep an eye on her! Bye! Love ya!"
I know he made some sort of response. Something like "Mmphff." But there was no time to waste. The clock was ticking and I had to get to pole position on the turnpike. So I scooted out the door, made one last check on the goat, and headed to the metropolis, making a mental note to call my son every chance I got.
During the morning break I called to see if she had the babies. My son had a vague recollection of something goat being said in the early morning, and was appropriately disturbed to find out he was now on baby watch. "Everything should be fine" I told him, while trying not to think about the potential "Insert your fingers and see what you can feel" conversation. That would not go over well. After extracting a promise of an immediate phone call upon any action, I went back to class.
My next break was around lunch time. I called him again to find that she was still holding out. He was going to go get a slice of pizza.
Me: "You're leaving???"
Son: "Just for a minute. I'm just going to get some pizza."
Son: "I'll be right back."
About an hour later, I glanced away from the instructor and saw that there was a missed call to my cell phone. I scooted out the door into the hallway and called my son.
Son: "She had the babies."
Me: "Babies? How many?"
Me: "So, how was it? Were the any problems? I guess there weren't any problems because you would have called me if there were problems. Were there any problems?"
Son: "I don't know..."
Me: "You don't know? I mean, did they both come out ok? Did you have to ... do anything?"
Son: "Um. No. I went for pizza and when I came back they were there."
Me: "Oh. Are they, uh, alive?"
Son: (looking) "They look like they're alive."
Me: "Do they look normal?"
Son: "I don't know. Normal for a goat, I guess."
And so it came to pass on April 9th, our black angora goat, Rhubarb, gave birth to two little black kids, Crow and Raven.
(They both look the same so one photo should do.)
Now we're going to travel ahead in time a little bit. Moving forward to the end of May...
May 30th. My daughter. My babygrrrrl. My sweet, little imp graduated from high school.
Where in the world did those years go? One day I'm looking for her little sneaker, trying to get her off to preshcool, the next I'm shopping for shoes to accessorise a graduation gown.
It's all gone in the blink of an eye. It sounds so cliche' but it's completely true.
She graduated with honors and a couple of college credits already under her belt. She's on her way to Arcadia University by way of Stirling University in Scotland, where she will spend the fall semester.
You know, I would love to write something meaningful about it but I am at a total loss for words. Where would I even begin? This child, this person I had a hand in making (hand and other things), is all growed up now.
I look at my son and daughter and think what cool people they turned out to be - despite my involvement. They are smart and funny and just crazy enough to get them in a little bit of trouble and yet keep them out of most. I just can't get over that fact that, for the most part, it's over. It's all kinds of sad and scary and happy at the same time. I want to go back in time and read A Visit From St. Nick on Christmas Eve one more time. I want to sit on the edge of their beds and sing bedtime songs again. I want to get lunch and go to the playground. I want to go to another piano recital and pinewood derby race.
Sigh. It all went too fast.
Ok, that's enough for now. I'll have to bring you up to speed in another post or two. Otherwise this one will get very long, as I lead a terribly exciting life and have lots to relate.