A career in what?!

Relaxing on a sofa in The Yard at the Iron Horse, there's a conversation next to us that goes like this:
"I got that great new job, pending the background check which should not be a problem. Then the guy calls me to say there's a domestic dispute on my record. I tell him it's from an argument with an old girlfriend but the charges were dropped - it was no big deal."  The dude then goes on to say, "If they rescind the job offer I am going to kill that bitch." 

Too bad he can't hear himself. I wonder what kind of job it was.

Hooked on Facebook

I joined the Facebook phenomenon and it's pretty amazing. I have connected with people from my past which is really cool. Especially when I get to catch up with ex-co-workers and out of town family. It's become a great way to keep in touch. I even learn new things about the people around me.

With some of my friends, the acronym TMI (too much information) certainly applies. Whether they are heading to a movie or to a restaurant, it's posted. Going shopping is posted. Having a cold is posted. Then there's those friends who have to repeat the news. Like OMG Michael Jackson is dead, or President Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize! Geez. So it's not all good all the time, but it's never all that boring either.

Facebook has games. I started with FarmVille then Cafe World and I am hooked. It's like having a virtual farm and run a virtual restaurant. I get to arrange the livestock and plant the fields. I get to cook in the restaurant and decorate it as I like. It's such a silly waste of time but I can't help myself. Plus I get to see what my Facebook friends are doing on their farms and in their cafes so there's competition. A little like keeping up with the Jonses.

I hope I get over this gaming thing soon, it's taking over my crafting time. Maybe I should harness the Facebook energy for some crafting good. Anyway for now, it's fun so look for me there and maybe we can be Facebook friends.

Labor Day picnic

BJ was home for the long weekend and I suggested that he invite his friends over for a barbecue on Monday so he doesn't have to chase all over to see them. He thought it was a great idea so we planned a nice lunch. The beauty is that I didn't have to worry about lots of drinking and guests staying too long since BJ had to get on a plane around 5pm.

I invited family and he invited his friends so we had a little gathering of 30 people for lunch. I made enough food for everyone, bought a bunch of soda, but asked that they all bring their own beer. Funny thing happened, they brought no beer. They spent so much of the weekend partying that they didn't want any. So they were a pretty subdued group.

I won a cornhole game at a golf outing recently so we got to play for the first time. I made the little corn bags for the game so I got to try them out first. It is a cool game and it kept everyone entertained for the afternoon. Small children played in the sand left where the swimming pool was standing and I dug out some toys I've been saving for them to play with.

It was an tense afternoon, filled with crap I hate. Jen and Matt won't talk to BJ, Kelly is mad at Mike, Carmen is mad at Kelly and as far as I am concerned they are all wrong and ridiculous. I stay out of all of it, but it eats away at me. I don't know if I should get involved but I just don't see the worth of sticking my two cents in. All I know is I am annoyed at all of them. Maybe if I blogged my thoughts I would feel better - that is until one of them reads this.

Once everyone heads out, I am left with Bailee and Adam and we all sit down and have a beer (except for pregnant Bailee of course). It's crazy that when it comes to some things these two seem the most normal yet they have the most bad stuff that they are up against. Maybe it's the adversity that makes them more normal than the rest.

At the end of this day, I am just glad everyone was fed, had a good time, or pretended to, and went home. It was good to have BJ home, good to see him and all his nice friends. It was good to have all the family together, no matter what. I don't think I will do this again.

The fifth season

There is a man at the end of our block who coaches a youth football team. All summer long he had a sign in his yard advertising team openings in the youth league. Since it is summer, I thought I would be looking at that sign for quite a while. But I noticed yesterday that it's not in the yard anymore. It's barely a day into August so it doesn't seem like it's time to think about football! Or is it time?

This neighbor/coach has a tractor that is rickety and makes a distinct clackety-clack when it goes by the house. He uses it to haul the football equipment from his home to the park. Our house is right between the two points so over the years it's become a traditional part of the end of summer - new school year - start of fall tradition. During football season, it goes by every week night and returns when the sun goes down. It's as constant as the smell of coffee in the morning.

Sadly, today the tractor went by. Just as I was starting to try not to notice that the sun is going down earlier and the school supplies are the main event in the Sunday paper's flyers, the sound hit me like the alarm going off on work days. It's just too soon to be thinking about fall and football and school days. I barely got used to the summer days. How quickly the seasons change. The funny thing is that the tractor is sort of soothing, like an old friend.

I am not a Hero

Having off yesterday for the 4th of July holiday and for the rest of the week, my usual run is interrupted. I really like running the lakefront downtown, but when I'm off work I'm not driving downtown just for that. So my path goes around my neighborhood and through an industrial park just on the other side of the main street that separates my subdivision from the factories. The benefits of the industrial park include a flat, well-paved road, little traffic, and the knowledge of exactly the number of miles from one end to the other.

I headed out this morning in my usual way, iPod in check, sweatband to hold back the short ends of my hair, and that's about it. I got through the neighborhood uninterrupted since it was 7AM. The only traffic I had to deal with were the employees heading into the parking lots of the factories, but since it was a little after 7, that was rare. There were a few semi-trucks heading out which seemed to suck the air out of my path as they passed by. The sun was getting hot and I was glad I got out of the house to get this done early.

I had run a half mile through the neighborhood and had a mile and a half done through the industrial park when I came across this tiny little pile of fur. I've run past road-kill before and even though it is difficult to look at, I usually view the dead creature and say a little prayer for the animal (yes, I believe that even the vermin road-kill do not deserve to die at the hands of man in this way). This time was so different. I looked down at the little pile of fur and it moved! By this point, I was one step passed the fur-ball so I had to stop in my tracks and look back. These sad little green eyes were staring up at me. I bent down to get a good look and this tiny little kitten was covered in grass clippings, leaning against the curb for support. It could barely walk from what I could tell.

I stood there in disbelief. What do I do? I had nothing with me to handle a little creature. I instantly thought to myself just leave it there and go get help. I memorized the spot in the road where I left the little critter and headed home. I never ran a mile so fast and never has a mile been so long in my entire running career. I whimpered all the way home, mind racing, I had it all planned out by the time I got to my front door. I ran into the house, grabbed Toby's kitty carrier, an old beach towel from the laundry room, and the car keys. In tears, I only stopped long enough to tell Jeff I had to go back and get an abandoned kitten.

I drove back to the spot where I found the kitty praying that it was still there and that no one had run over it. I grabbed the beach towel and walked towards the kitten. As soon as I bent down it tried to run. Weakly it only took three steps before it stopped. I threw the towel over it and pick it up wrapping it in the towel. The little thing squealed and showed me it's claws. It was a fighter. I gently put the towel and kitten the the cat carrier and headed home. By this time I was bawling uncontrollably. I tried to compose myself before I got into the house. I thought Jeff and his sister would think I was crazy.

The moment I left Jeff thought we were keeping another cat. What he didn't know until he saw it was that this little guy was too small to keep; it needed the kind of care I knew I couldn't give it. (Not that I didn't think about keeping it.) I know a few people who work for the Humane Society so I didn't have any qualms about calling them for help. I knew this little creature would be in good hands there. The woman who answered the phone explained that all animals in this situation must go through animal control. She could sense the stress in my voice and she explained that after they take it in, they will give it the care it needs then send it to the shelter for adoption. I felt relieved and called animal control. They explained the same thing to me and gave me three options for turning the little guy in. They could send a truck (I could picture the little thing riding in a truck all day), I could take it to my local police department (same thing, I envisioned it sitting there all day till someone got to it), or I could drive it over to 38th & Burnham and drop it off. I chose the latter of the three.

I put the kitten in the car but not before taking his picture. When I got to animal control I felt instant relief. The place looked new, clean, and inviting. The pleasant woman behind the counter said that she would come around and take a look. She reached into the cat carrier and took out the little kitten by the scruff of the neck. She inspected it, lifted its tail and announced that it was a little girl. I instantly had this crazy thought that I wanted to name her Abby (like some sort of shortened version of abandoned). Like I said, crazy. The woman placed the kitten in one of her cages and proceeded to ask me questions to complete her paperwork. My name, address for verification that I'm a Milwaukee County resident, and the location where I found the kitten. As I told my story of how I found her I started with the sobbing again. Uncontrollably, I just balled as I tried to say 'How could someone do something this terrible?' The police officer who sat next to the desk clerk behind the counter was struggling to keep her composure; apparently I was having an emotional effect on her as well.

The clerk explained that their veterinarian would look the little girl over to make sure she's OK, then they would keep her there for a week in case someone would claim her as lost (fat chance), then she would be sent to a shelter for adoption. She thanked me and I left. I finally regained my composure as I pulled into my driveway. Jeff reassured me that I was a hero. He knew I was traumatized and he tried to make me feel better. He told me that God put that kitten there just when I was going by because he knew I would be the one to do the right thing. So it was all good. So why don't I feel good about it? I just feel sad that it happened in the first place.

I wish I would have petted her before I left.

I just don't think I will ever think of this as heroic.