...rum all out.""Our company somewhat sober - A damned confusion amongst us! - Rogues a-plotting - Great talk of separation - so I looked sharp for a prize - Such a day found one with a great deal of liquor on board, so kept the company hot, damned hot, then things went well again." (from the log of the brig Adventure, Ed. Teach, commanding.)
I have a certain sympathy with Blackbeard today.
The day started with Little Miss at daycare and the Peeper at Astor. Mojo and I went over to help the Peep and his little classpeeps with "Gingerbread Man Day".
You can see from the faces how much fun this was. Lots of creative decorations and lots of imaginative gingerbread people. Very cool. I love these little peeps; they're so happy and fearless and loving.
I must have had three or four just come up and spontaneously ask for help, or blurt out something they thought was exciting and cool, or ask me to enjoy their creations. I love their energy, and at the same time it's tinged with a bit of sadness; why does this wonderful, happy openness have to close? Why do they have to become so busy, or so angry, or so tightly furled by the time they're fourteen or eighteen? That just doesn't seem right, or kind.So Mojo and I rolled and patted gingerread, critiqued and admired raisins and chocolate chips and sprinkes.
Then we helped slide the finished cookies onto the trays on the borrowed AV cart and wheeled it down the linoleum hallway to the cafeteria kitchen.
Another thing I love are the old kitchens in these older public schools (Astor dates from the 1950's). They're a monument to industrial exuberance of middle-20th Century America, all stainless steel and tile and battered hardwood. Astor kitchen still has the wonderful big walk-in cooler complete with the massive wooden door hung from great steel hardware.
The ovens are like hellmouths, the great commercial pots and pans hang from the ceiling and the whole feeling is one of fish sticks and sliders, Wonder bread and Tang...the kid foods of my youth.
It's hell to be nostalgic for fried bologna.
We left the cookies there to be baked - and gobbled with gusto by the kindergartners, according to the Peeper - and strolled back to hug our little man goodbye. We got our special hug, and cheery goodbyes from the rest of Mrs. Thomason's class.
They're just a lovely group of little folks.
One thing we like - as you probably notice from the photos - is that, in lily-white Portland - the Peep's class is delightfully heterogenous. He's got classmates from around the city and around the world; little Kenji's birth certificate is in Japanese. We wouldn't be who we are living where we live if we weren't happy about that. What the Peep notices is "different" about his little friend Marquel isn't that his skin is chocolate while Peeper's is pink - it's that Marquel likes Barbies and Bratz because that's what his big sisters like and he loves is big sisters.
Cool.We got home to pack; the only ones resting that day were the two lazy cats, found hogging our bed.
Because the next stop was Meridian Park Hospital.
Mojo was getting a surgery she'd wanted for a long time. We'd had to wait until we had he right insurance - and then had to be sure the insurance would pay. We did, and it would. So now we were off to the infirmary to let the artist do his work. We checked in, filled out the paperwork and waited for the prep room.
And then we got in there, Mojo got into her fancy paper robe with the ducts for cntral heating, and we waited.
And we read our books, and talked, and pretended not to be nervous, and waited.
And I went out for lunch, and came back, and we talked and read some more, and we waited.
And finally she got her IV in. And we watched some TV. And waited.
The woman before her had had a nasty histamine reaction on the table in OR. Mojo finally got in THREE HOURS late. Which meant that instead of being in recovery when I picked the little folks up at daycare she was still under the knife. And when we arrived back at the hospital she was in recovery. And was still in recovery when we left, crying (at least the Peeper was crying, and Missy was almost asleep) because Mommy was still in "the sleepy room" and we couldn't hug her to make her owie feel better.
It was a busy day. But I sure hope tomorrow has a little less drama...