>As seasons change…

>That’s sports seasons, of course. What did you think? You might be sports fan in Wisconsin if even as you mourn the Brewers’ failure to make the play-offs, you get out your Green Bay Packer paraphernalia.
From left to right: Racing Polish sausage, rabbit with cheesehead, Racing Bratwurst, chalkboard mug, and Bret Favre bobblehead. Yes, I expect him to break Marino’s record today. Go! Pack! Go!

Oh, and in case you were wondering, I didn’t forget the Badgers. Go Big Red!!! 37-34; Wow!!

Update: YYYYYYYEEEESSSSSS!!!!! 421!! 421!!! Go Favre!!!
And the latest update: 422!! and the team is 4-0!! Go man go!!!!

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>Delurk, I say, de-lurk already!!

>

The Great Mofo Delurk 2007

Sponsored by Schmutzie at Milkmoney or Not, it’s time to encourage blog readers to post comments. For those new to the blogosphere, a “lurker” is one who reads and never comments. A comment is simple: click on comments, type your thoughts in the little box, and click post. some blogs (mine included) require a quick word-recognition task to prove that you’re really a person, not an mass producing comment robot. So say a few words, folks, and let us know that there is life out there! It’ll save us writers the time and trouble of checking our stats obsessively.

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>Road Trip!!

>Parent Bloggers Network asked folks to think about vacations, past and future. I don’t get out much, but I must say our family enjoys road trips. So…should I chronicle the business trip when Amigo rode along with his dad in a brand new live truck for the television station? Recent trips to Chicago to see Wicked and later to cheer on the White Sox? The stop on the way there at the Converse outlet store? (Breathe, daughter, breathe) How about the journeys of Flat Stanley?

One of the fun parts of traveling with older teens is (gasp) sharing the driving. I’m a morning person, and La Petite is a night owl. On a long trip, my coffee and I will get us going, and she’ll get us to the destination courtesy of her Mt. Dew. In a big city or an unfamiliar area, one can drive while the other navigates.

Amigo really enjoys the radio on long trips. He will tune in a local station and enjoy the accents. He has it in his head that we need to take a trip to Canton, Ohio, and Cooperstown, New York to visit their respective halls of fame. I could be talked into it…well, it’s a strong possible maybe.

If part of the adventure is finding a place to stay, I could look into Pickpackgo.com, a place that helps find quality lodgings in a variety of locales. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll be singing “On the road again” or “Movin’ right along” as we hit the highway.

Pick the Place, Pack Your Bags, and Let’s Go!

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>Do Nice Bloggers finish last?

>

I hope not. I’m a little late in responding, but I must send my thanks to Mom-nos and to Sheila from 4 My Memories. Both of them named me a Nice Blogger.

It’s not that I don’t vent now and then (I know I do), but I’m glad I’ve resisted the temptation to whine and complain too often. I’ve also resisted (oh, it’s been tough at times) venting in a nasty way about real people.

So — Thanks so much to both of you!

And in the same category, I’d like to nominate these wonderful bloggers.

Shannon from Believer in Balance
Mary from MomWrites
Michelle from Scribbit
Susan from Farmgirl
…and I know there are more Nice Bloggers out there.

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>Funday Sunday

>Oh, so the Brewers lost. Well, I “won” the ticket lottery (along with many, many other fans, I’m sure), but I still need to go online and hope I can get through the crush to buy tickets. That is, if there is still a game. I have a plan, though. I have a plan.
Meanwhile, Husband works the pre-game and post-game show today, so you won’t see him on the sidelines. Amigo and I will hang out and rest and relax and cheer on the green and gold. La Petite bought brats to cook at her apartment. She’s in the spirit.

Let’s all hope for blue skies and good football weather!

Post-Game Update: Yeah, way to go Favre!!! Tied the record for touchdown passes! Hey, Donald Driver, how many receptions was that?! Wow!! All right!! Yay!! Hey, Internet, you heard me cheering, didn’t you?!!

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>Welcome, Wabbit

>

Meet the new member of the family. “Buddy” belonged to a neighbor who had two male rabbits. Then Buddy had babies. Oops. Now they have one baby rabbit, and we have the lovely Buddy. She has cow-like coloring, so La Petite has suggested renaming her Betsy. Buddy/Betsy is a Rex, so she’s very soft. It feels like petting a thick blanket when we hold her. She needs her claws clipped, so we’ll take her in to get to know the vet soon, very soon. In the meantime, Buddy/Betsy is our new furry friend.
Darwin, we still miss you. You’ll always be our special honey bunny.

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>Aargh, ya must wash after ya use da head, me lads

>

I missed it. Well, I knew it was Talk Like a Pirate Day, but I also knew if I mentioned it to my fourth grade class they’d be lost for the day. No math. No reading. No Social Studies. Well, Creative Writing might have included some interesting dialogue. But in the category of better late than never, I went to a place where the grog, er, coffee is strong, and took the quiz to find my inner pirate. Here’s my result.

You are The Cap’n!

Some men and women are born great, some achieve greatness and some slit the throats of any scalawag who stands between them and unlimited power. You never met a man – or woman – you couldn’t eviscerate. You are the definitive Man of Action, the CEO of the Seven Seas, Lee Iacocca in a blousy shirt and drawstring-fly pants. You’re mission-oriented, and if anyone gets in the way, that’s his problem, now isn’t? Your buckle was swashed long ago and you have never been so sure of anything as your ability to bend everyone to your will. You will call anyone out and cut off his head if he shows any sign of taking you on or backing down. If one of your lieutenants shows an overly developed sense of ambition he may find more suitable accommodations in Davy Jones’ locker. That is, of course, IF you notice him. You tend to be self absorbed – a weakness that may keep you from seeing enemies where they are and imagining them where they are not.

What’s Yer Inner Pirate?

brought to you by
The Official Talk Like A Pirate Web Site. Arrrrr!

(Phew! At least they didn’t say I was the ship’s cook.)

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>Shoulds are bogus and hindsight is 20-20.

>It was definitely one of those days.

Should (not): The secretary on the phone at 7:20 telling me that Amigo had fallen and bumped his nose shouldn’t have used the phrase “I don’t know if it’s broken”.
Reality: She wasn’t a nurse, and didn’t describe the injury very well, despite my Red Cross training and my detailed questions.
End result: I worried all day. I even emailed husband.

Should: The historic house down the road should have been clear in their phone call.
Reality: Both the secretary and the principal thought it was a “deal with this within an hour or lose the trip!” situation.
End result: We were cranky when we made the return call because we hadn’t arranged a field trip there, and we eventually found out the call had just been outreach to recruit more schools to visit.

Should: Teachers should communicate all special needs, even gifted and talented, to the next teacher.
Reality: A student today told me he was supposed to be in the next grade’s math program, accelerated by a year.
End result: The jury’s still out. I sent out a quick email to the relevant teachers, and I’ll check the child’s file tomorrow. I couldn’t today; I was dealing with a field trip phone call (see above).

Should: I should have stopped worrying about Amigo’s nose.
Reality: Since I didn’t see it or talk to a qualified medical person, I had no idea how serious it was — or not.
End result: He talks like he has a cold (which he still does), had a small headache, and strongly resembles a football player with a bandage instead of a breathing strip across his nose.

Ah, well, as my coworker so wisely said, “If you bang your head on the wall, all you’ll get is a sore head.” So instead of pounding out my frustration, I think I should have a cappuccino and some cinnamon toast. Comfort food is called for after a day like this.

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