I don't know art, but I know what I like

There was a break in the clouds yesterday that was long enough to visit the Nasher Sculpture Center. You need a little sunshine for that one, since a lot of the art is outdoors. We had a little sunshine:

I had intended to nap and lounge about all afternoon, but with weather like we've had lately, you have to take the opportunity to stand in whatever sunlight you get. 

Cas came to pick me up at about 2. I felt bad that he didn't have a machete to get from his car to my door. The lawn is just a little out of control, and it's trying to drag the sidewalk down with it. I couldn't help it, either. It's rained every day for what has felt like months. I think it's been more like 20 days or so, but the whole city is generally damp and sick of flood warnings. We lost power at work three times last week, and it knocked out the Internet each time. Sheesh. 

So, with this strange light source and a lack of water falling from the sky, my sweetie thought it was the perfect day to use our guest passes to the Nasher. Good timing; they expire today. 

They had an exhibit by an artist who makes large pieces with wood, fabric and paint. Maybe I missed a class in college, but I thought it was crap. What do I know, right? 

There were several things that looked to me like garbage. I asked Cas- if this was in your neighbor's yard, would you be mad? I know I would be. Here's a sampling: 

Looks like junk to me, but Then again, I majored in literature. 

After that, we stopped by the grocery store to pick up wine and food. The plan was to watch a movie and eat dinner at my place. Afternoon out, evening in. We also talked seriously about some of our house-buying plans. Good thing, too. It's all starting to feel pretty real, and we need to be on the same page. I'm pumped. He appears to be excited, too. 

For today, I think I may actually be able to roll my lawnmower across the front yard. I have to wait a little bit, since it's just after 7am, and it's downright un-neighborly to make that kind of noise this early. 

I'll leave you with the photo I took of Cas standing inside of a curved sculpture. I'm calling the photo Timmy awaits Lassie's return:

Happy Sunday, everyone. Only a week of school left! 

We got the funk

Gotta have that funk. Last night, Cas and I went to the House of Blues with his friends Adam and Jennifer to see George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic.

There was a pretty good opening act, and about three seconds after they left the stage, the room started to smell a little different.  Of course.  In case anyone was wondering, the funkmaster in chief leaned down to the front row of the audience and said, "Give me the joint, mother f***er."  The fan obliged, and George lit it up on stage.

That tells you more than I could with mere words.  It was a good show, of course.  They played the songs everyone expected to hear and some I had never heard.  There were some rap numbers by different members of the entourage, and those were the songs I found the least appealing.  Oh, well.  I guess I am unfamiliar with that particular type of funk.  

The band was as massive as ever.  The thing with Parliament Funkadelic is that there are dozens of people in the band at any point in its existence.  It's pretty clear when you see this picture of the throng waiting off the stage for their turn to participate:

It was a very good time, but I started to suspect that George is a little like the English queen.  He's like the figurehead of the funk nation, and it appears his role is becoming increasingly ceremonial.  Many of the songs only peripherally involved George.  I can't judge, of course.  I'm a 40 year old white lady who was raised in the suburbs.  What do I know about funk?  

And though I adore my date, he doesn't exactly scream out funky, either.  He admitted that a purple shirt with a pair of jeans was about as funky as his wardrobe could get.  

Cas' friend Adam decided to see if we could sneak up to the balcony.  Seemed to work out.  We hijacked some really good seats for the opening act, but we were summarily excused before P Funk took the stage.  We stood for a while, then we paired off and found some vacant seats.  For about half of the show, we were sitting in ill-gotten chairs.  So scandalous.  

Because it was such an odd audience, I was enjoying the people-watching along with the show.  There was a very tall, slender black lady who stood at her seat and danced for several songs, and behind her was an older, white couple.  The man in the couple used a wheelchair while the woman did not.  When the woman in the couple got up to get a drink or use the restroom or whatever, she tried briefly to mirror the dance moves of the younger woman in front of her.  It made her and her guy laugh.  Heck, it made me laugh, too.  She was probably in her fifties, and she kind of looked like an elementary school librarian, so when she tried to repeat the dance moves of a young woman overwhelmed by the funk, it was pretty funny.  

Sometime after midnight, the band struck up Atomic Dog.  It felt like a closer for the show, and George was waving to people in a way that felt like he was saying good night.  That's why I was so confused when another song followed it.  When that one ended, Cas and I thought it was probably time to head out, but another song began.  We decided it was probably for the best if we headed out then, so we said good night to Adam and Jennifer, who clearly wanted to stick around for the duration.  It was just getting so late.  I can't do 2 am on a Friday during the school year, mother ship or no.  It's just too much for me.  I know my bartender self from my 20s would be mortified, but I was exhausted.  Cas felt the same way.  At least we're on the same funky wavelength.  

It's supposed to rain again tonight, so we decided it would be best to keep it low-key and stay in.  We haven't watched any Netflix on the couch in a while- our jobs keep intervening.  It will be good to stay in and be kind of boring tonight.  

My classroom- now with 3% more physical pleasantness!

Today, the results of the student surveys regarding teacher effectiveness were posted.  I know that a lot of my colleagues were disappointed with their results.  We are all so tuned in to the idea that 70% is a threshold between passing and failing that I fear our expectations were a bit off base.  The average teacher score in the school district was 65.  65% of the students who took the survey responded favorably to the survey questions.  I had to reconfigure my thinking.  A 50 would mean that half of the kids were happy about the instruction they receive, so I suppose 50 means your students are pretty apathetic about your work.  With that in mind, my 67 was pretty good.  It was at least better than average.  Our school average was a 64.  I printed off the report and took a look at the question-by-question breakdown.  Apparently, my instruction is clear, my rules are fair and my methods are solid.  My worst scores were in areas like my concern for their lives outside of the classroom.  I guess...  but who has the time to learn all about the private lives of every kid? 

Meh.  I did pretty well.  

Some of my friends whom I respect and view as very effective teachers were downright angry with their scores.  One question that fascinated me was about the pleasantness of the physical space in the classroom.  Talk about things that are out of my hands.  Apparently, my classroom is 78% pleasant.  The average District response on this item was 75%.  I kind of want to hang a sign outside of my room that says Miss Hinds' classroom: Now with 3% more physical pleasantness than the District average!

I may just do that.  And I should hang it over my door.  Fun fact- today I realized that my door has an inventory tag on it.  It clearly states that the door, if found, belongs to the Dallas ISD.  There is a number to call, should you happen to find my classroom door out on its own.  It's kind of funny to me.  Someday, that door will be out in the world- maybe at a door pawn shop after a rash of door theft.  The pawnbroker will see the inventory tag and call the District and the cops.  I found it!  I found the stolen door!  

*Update* I made the sign. It made me laugh. Enjoy:

When I'm 64

So much family time! Dunlap family time, Hinds family time... I'm familied out. Today is Memorial Day. It's also Dad's 64th birthday.

We kept it small this time around. It was just the four residents of the house in Richardson, and I came with my fella. Mom made food; I made drinks. 

It rained again today. Of course. And this moment from Forrest Gump came up: 

Sounds pretty accurate. We're having near perpetual flood warnings lately, and local bodies of water are nearing overflow. 

I have nine days of school left this year, and I just updated my website for the second-to-last time this year. I know the students are ready for summer, but I doubt they know how much their teachers are eagerly anticipating the break. 

It's definitely time. My theory is that summers are vacation from school so the teachers have time to miss the kids. In August, we like them and miss them and such. In May, we need to take some time apart. 

Target date: June 5. That's when they become somebody else's responsibility for a few months- and not a moment too soon. Almost there. 

It's like rain on your wedding day

Cas has a cousin named Phil, and Phil got married yesterday.  The wedding was an hour outside of Austin by shuttle, and the whole thing was outdoors.  Since it seems to be monsoon season in Texas, an outdoor wedding was kind of a crap shoot.  The rain held off for the ceremony, and we managed to snap a few photos before it all started.

We were staying in Austin, and we were there in the hotel with the Dallas Dunlap crew.  The shuttle took us at 4:30 out to a town called Kyle.  Before the ceremony, everyone gathered in the place that would later house the reception for some Prosecco.  

We joined the group as they gingerly walked across the damp grass and the soft ground to the seats to watch the two take their vows.  After that, we retreated to the reception area- basically a roof with no walls- for food, drinks and dancing.  There was also a selfie station.  A table of props and selfie sticks were at the ready, and we felt obliged to play along.

In spite of the weather, it was actually very pretty.  Trips to the restroom required an umbrella most of the night, but it did provide for a lovely view on the way back. 

It was fun, and we had a rather damp but interesting walk back to the shuttle bus at the end of the evening, and I am pretty sure I made the right move by wearing some shoes I picked up at Payless a year ago.  If they are totally wrecked, I'm out twenty bucks at the most.  

This morning, we had a late breakfast and packed up for the trip home.  Jeanne and Dave drove down to Austin with Chad and Becky, and Cas was on deck to drive them home.  We stopped in West on the way there and on the way back.  We almost had to.  One does not simply pass West without popping into the Czech Stop.  

As soon as Cas and I dropped Jeanne and Dave off at their house, he dropped me off at my house.  Almost immediately, I was down for a nap.  I have to get my stuff together for school, and I should probably do it today.  Tomorrow is Dad's birthday, and I have to hand the old guy a present.  

Out. Friends. Later.

Parents of teenagers used to worry that they don't know what their kids are up to. Where are you going? With whom? When will you return? Out. Friends. Later. Bye. 

I suppose those days are in the past, now. Just GPS track their phones or follow their Instagram information. Kids can't wait to tell the world what they ordered at Starbucks and how embarrassing it was when they burped in front of bae or whatever. 

In spite of my advanced age, I occasionally fall victim to this level of real time life-broadcasting. I went out with friends Tuesday night. It's obvious, because I was tagged in a post on Facebook. It's not a big deal, but I'm not all about posting my exact location while I should be living in that moment. Old school, I guess. 

It was Laura's birthday. 

Good times. 

Last night, Cas and I went out with Chad, Becky, Zoey, Cas Sr. and Anne. It was a good dinner, and it was nice to see the dad and stepmom while they were in town. As a bonus, none of us managed to post it somewhere and tag a photo. 

Tonight is baccalaureate for Cas' school. He's probably standing up and clapping right now, so no date night. And none next week on Thursday, either. I have the senior award ceremony that night. The Thursday after that, I'm pretty sure Cas is done with school, and I have a few finals to give. Maybe that will be our last date night before the summer break. 

That's it for tonight, though. I'm out. I'm metaphorically out, not literally out. I'm certainly not with friends, but I'll still be here later. Bye...

#bittersweet

The last issue of The Hoofbeat went out today.  It was good to do.  I posted the learning objective and the demonstration of learning on the whiteboard, as per District policy, of course.  They were as follows:

Learning Objective: Distribute issue 6 of The Hoofbeat.
Demonstration of Learning: I can show my peers mah mad skillz for the last time this year. #bittersweet

I believe it's the first time I have ever included a hashtag in a DOL post before.  Why the heck not?  On the day we hand out papers, I feel just a little bullet proof during the process.  Who could possibly find fault in my teaching method when me and my budding journalists are handing out a few thousand copies of our newspaper?  The demonstration that the kids learned something is both clear and completely tangible.  You want to see what they learned?  Read the paper.

I had the kids pose for a photo before we started out.  I thought it would be fun to send a copy of the picture to our expatriated sports editor who is out of state for the semester.  He wanted us to send copies of the issues he missed out on.

That's how we do it.  The papers are all counted and stacked in order.  We start at one side of the hall and end at the other.  We just roll the cart around and hand a pre-counted stack to the teacher whose name is listed.  It's a highly sophisticated system of post-its, and it looks like this when we get going:

And now, that's done.  All I have left to do this year is teach school.  Should be a snap.  I just have a little bit to do in terms of preparing my kids for the finals and preparing my finals for the kids.  Oh, and the senior awards ceremony and things like that.  We're down to 13 days.  Almost there...

#bittersweet

Dust. Wind. Dude.

This morning, Jeff took off for South Carolina. I'm guessing he's getting close by now. Last night, I went to Mom and Dad's house for dinner and my last shot at some two-brother time for a while.

When I got to the house, Laurie was off at a water aerobics class, and Jeff pointed out that it had been a really long time since just the five of us were in the house together. Kind of monumental. We had dinner and I made up some margaritas. We stood around outside for a few photos. 

When Laurie came back to the house, we dragged out the Trivial Pursuit game and had a half-length match. It was just getting too late for a whole game. I was tied with Jeff and Mom, and when she took the lead, we called it.

One of the questions was about Socrates. Jeff, Danny and I got into a chorus of Bill and Ted's philosophizing with So-Crates. Dust. Wind. Dude. 

Of course. 

It was a really good week with Jeff, but I need a little down time. It's Friday night, and I was in shorts and a t-shirt before 6pm. Cas and I are going to be a boring couple tomorrow. We plan to hit up a movie and do very little else. Next weekend, we have to head down to Austin. One of his cousins is getting married, so we have plans to attend the wedding. It should be a good time. Prior to that, we have a mid-week dinner with his dad, who will be in Dallas briefly. So, as much as I have been dragging Cas to my family stuff lately, I suppose it's time to turn it around so he can take me to his stuff. Fair enough. I'm down to clown. 

Skip day

Usually, on the Friday before spring break, the senior class takes it upon themselves to schedule (they think they do it covertly) a senior skip day. Teachers aren't supposed to be privy to this information. It's supposed to be an act of rebellion. A last hurrah at sticking it to the man before this part of their lives draws to a close.

I had a Heather skip day yesterday. I woke up a little later than usual and got cleaned up. I decided I would be better off if I waited out the rush hour traffic, and in response, LBJ seemed to say, "Oh, you think that will make a difference?" Alas, the best laid plans...

Either way, I went to Richardson and collected Jeff and Dad. We went to the train station and headed downtown to Klyde Warren Park. They have food trucks and a very interesting view of traffic giving underneath the park itself. You can stand at one edge of the park and watch cars go in underneath your feet. You can walk to the other edge and watch cars come out. We had food truck lunch and wandered a bit- until it started raining. That's when we went to the Perot Museum. 

Here's Dad standing at the edge of Jane's Lane in the park: 

We'll be sending that along to his sister Jane very soon, I'm sure. 

At the Perot museum, we had a pretty good time. It was fun to take Jeff around to these new additions. Having been absent from Dallas for years, I was sure he had missed the newest park and museum additions to the city. It was also good to let him see how downtown had changed. It's nicer these days, and the guys were both impressed by the increased train ridership on our transit system. Hooray, Dallas! 

Perot was fun, and we got to play with some toys. Look at how focused Jeff can get with remote controlled tanks:

He has to be such an adult so much of the time, so I'm glad he occasionally gets to be a giant child. 

We headed home after that and I tidied up my rain-frizzed hair. We all headed out to Grapevine for dinner with my uncle Doug's family. Dad stopped by and picked up Cas on the way. I'm so glad he could come with. We arrived at the restaurant first, and I asked if there was a reservation. The hostess said there was one under Hinds for a party of 16. Holy cow. So Jeff got to see some cousins he hadn't seen in a while. And he had never met Rachel's kids, though her youngest immediately identified Jeff as her new toy. He was happy to oblige, even at the expense of enjoying a hot meal. He ate, but he did it on second cousin Ashlyn's schedule. 

I was so exhausted that I had to head home at 10. I was asleep about 20 minutes after my garage door closed, and I'm headed back to work this morning. I will probably be back at the house tonight, since Jeff is leaving tomorrow. It's been a great week, but it's wearing me out. I think I'll sleep through the whole first day of summer break this year. 

The end of the tunnel

This has been my day.

Twenty four hours from now, it will be in the printer's hands. Last one of the year. 

Jeff is still in town, and he got to spend the only sunny day we've had in a while going to a ballgame with Danny. I'm glad the boys got to have the day they did. I wish I could have been at the ballpark. But alas, the newspaper. 

I'll go be a teacher tomorrow. I think I'll head to Richardson for dinner, then back home for bed so I can wake up well-rested for my day off. 

I'm taking the day. My original plan was a train trip downtown and some food truck lunch at Klyde Warren Park. Maybe a museum after that, or Thanksgiving square. There's some cool art scattered downtown. The thing is, it will probably rain. I'll need a backup plan. After The Hoofbeat is out of my hands, I'll look into a few rainy-day alternatives. 

That's all she wrote for today, though. I'm plum tuckered out. I'll leave you with a funny- the stories for page seven were in various states of readiness, and some were pure garbage. Today, I threatened to fill the hole in the page this way: 

It was pretty tempting. I just couldn't think of any funny ones. 

A party game for horrible people

I spent the late morning and early afternoon with Mom, Dad, Jeff, Danny and Laurie.  My people are highly entertaining.  Jeff said he had a great time at House of Blues last night, and the show was fantastic.  He has a whole day with Danny tomorrow, and they have a baseball game to attend.  We're all hoping that the weather holds out and the ballpark is rain-free for enough time to watch a whole game.  

Cas showed up last to my folks' house today, having wrapped up church and brunch just in time to arrive at around three.  Kris, Autumn, Wiley, Jason, Maria, Holly and the three babies-to-be were already in the living room.  Jeff was all hot to make some fancy drinks, and several people tried them out.  I was more interested in some Dominican rum with Diet Coke.  

We all played a very large game of Cards Against Humanity.  It's pretty disturbing most of the time, but it's almost always hilarious.

I left there around seven and got home just in time to stare at my classroom website and pretend I will actually work on it.  I did a little work on page eight of the school newspaper.  I had to stop for a while.  Most of the pages are as complete as I can make them, and I have a small amount of time to get a few things done tomorrow.  

I really do have to do some work, now.  I genuinely don't want to.  I have to get everything together for the week, though.  I am taking Wednesday off to spend it with Jeff and Dad.  Cas will be joining the three of us for dinner.  So far, I am pretty sure my big brother likes my fella, but a smaller group will probably be better.  It was probably hard for Jeff to get to know Cas (and vice versa) in a room with 13 exuberant people in it.  

Blame it on the Bossa Nova

Yesterday was unintentionally a Brazilian themed day. When I got up in the morning, I packed all of my things together and headed over to mom and dad's house. Since Jeff was there, I decided it was the best place to spend the daylight hours. I brought my laptop so I could get a little bit of work done, and I actually did design an advertisement while I was there.

Somewhere after noon, Danny needed a nap. Dad was already dozing off in a recliner, and Mom was saying she could use some rest, as well. Jeff decided the two of us should head out for a cup of coffee, and he specifically wanted to find a non-Starbucks location. 

There has been a Cafe Brazil on the northbound side of 75 across form SMU as long as I can remember, and that ended up being our spot. We had obnoxious coffee:

We drove around a little more and wound up heading past Richland Community College on the way back. Neither of us had seen the new construction, but we'd both launched our post-secondary education there. We decided to pull in and see the new buildings. One was called Thunderduck Hall. Wonderful. 

We had a pretty good afternoon, and we got back to the house in time for everybody to get ready for the evening. Jeff and Danny had plans to go to The House of Blues for a show. Jeff got the tickets for Christmas, and that was the whole motivation for the trip. 

I popped into my parents bathroom in casual clothes and emerged in a little black dress. Yesterday was my big one-year celebration with Cas. 

My gift had arrived just in time. 

You probably can't tell, but the M&Ms are personalized. 

I've never had my face on candy before. We had a little time before our reservation, so we had a bit of candy and a bottle of Prosecco. We had each bought one. Funny. When we got to Fogo de Chao, it was just about the perfect way to close out the day. We ate way too much food and agreed that it would have been a terrible place for a first date. 

The Brazilian steakhouse concept features "cowboys" walking the restaurant with meat on metal skewers. They cut off portions at your table if the meat they're carrying interests you. On a first date, as we were a year ago, neither of us would have been willing to display the gluttony necessary to take full advantage of the situation. We're officially a year into this relationship, and we both knew to show up hungry and hold nothing back. In light of that, we chose to take a photo before we went to gorge ourselves:

Afterwards, we probably looked stuffed and exhausted.

The joke is that you go to a place like that with the intent to get the most for your dollar. You try to beat the system, or beat the meat, but in the end, the meat always beats you. We were beat by the meat. 

Today is Mother's Day, and Cas is heading to church and brunch with Jeanne at 11. I'm invited, and I would go if the whole thing started earlier, but I think an 11 am start to the service would make brunch begin after noon, and I have to be with my own mother. I'm sure that, as a mother herself, Jeanne would understand. But for now, I really need a shower and some fresh clothes.

Now that we're done with the oddly Brazilain-themed day, it's time to enjoy Mother's Day.

Living it up when I'm going down

We're staring down our last deadline of the year for the newspaper.  The kids have 19 days of school left.  Things are starting to wrap themselves up, as they tend to do at this time of year.  Caps and gowns are coming soon, along with what will probably be loads of kids asking me to write in yearbooks so they can keep my words of wisdom for decades.

For extra fun on Friday, we lost power in about half of the building.  The bells did not ring, the intercom was down and the whole computer network was shot.  No phones; no attendance system.  I entered my information from my cellphone as I was heading out the door.

Back several years ago when I worked at Thomas Jefferson HS, I got stuck in the elevator for a full 25 minutes.  When the security officer, the head custodian and the assistant principal managed to pry the door open, several seniors were standing around in a semicircle to see me emerge from the carraige.  When I walked out, the gathered kids started a slow, sarcastic clap.  Priceless.

Yesterday, it seems, my friend Letisa was due.  She was only stuck for five minutes, but for extra fun, I heard a loud alarm going off.  It must have totally sucked to be in there with the noise.

I'm up late working on newspaper pages.  I have over half of the publication done, and I have every intention of getting my lesson plans wrapped up before I sleep.  This is a big weekend.  Tonight, I have an anniversary dinner with Cas.  We're heading to Fogo de Chao for a ridiculous amount of meat.  I was planning on heading to Richardson before that to hang out with Jeff for a moment.  He just got into town.  Sunday is Mother's Day, of course, and that will be still more time for togetherness.  Cas needs to meet my big brother.  If the rest of the family is any indication, Jeff will like Cas.  

But that's for later.  I want to wrap up the rest of my work, now.  If I get enough crap accomplished, I can do all of the things I have planned for the weekend.  Hooray, weekend!

And when Monday comes, I believe I will take the stairs.

DIY

If you want something done right, do it yourself.  That has been true since long before I heard it spoken out loud.  I was swiping through the Groupon app on my phone yesterday when I got home from work, and I saw the opposite of DIY:

By the time I went back in a few hours later, it had been removed.  I guess it was an inter-office joke that the Groupon folk had going on, and the rest of us weren't supposed to see it.  If I remember correctly, it started with the employee flying to wherever your mom lives, surprising her with breakfast, taking her shopping or for some other kind of entertainment and having a catered dinner.  The employee would sit in for family photos, bring a present and otherwise entertain your mother for you.  

Funny?  Yes.  Necessary?  Hell no.  But for a brief time, this prize could have been yours for the low, low price of $25,000.  Heck, I'll go hang out with someone else's mom for $25,000.  Just not on Mother's Day- I have plans that day.  

Jeff is en route to Dallas as I write this.  He should be at my parents' house this evening.  It will be very good to have my big brother around for a week.  Of course, Mom is happy we'll all be in the same place at the same time, so I guess none of us needs to scrape together $25,000 for a stranger to head out to Richardson.  What a relief.  

Shoo Shoo

I refer to Danny as my little brother, but he hasn't been genuinely little since elementary school. We call each other Shoo Shoo. It's the sound we associate with old ladies pinching a child's cheek to indicate that the child is cute. It's dumb, but nicknames often are. Shoo Shoo's birthday was yesterday, and I made an unusual trip to Richardson on a Wednesday to celebrate.

It was nothing out of the ordinary for Mom, dad, Laurie and Dan. They had dinner at the usual time, but we did throw some candles into a homemade cake and sing the birthday song. 

I brought my present- a t-shirt that will, no doubt, amuse Danny's future father in law. Dan has been accused in visits to Arkansas of being a beer snob. 

So, this shirt had to happen. 

He was particularly fond of the monocle. It's the seventh today, which means Cas and I are only a few days from the one-year mark. We have a fancy dinner planned, and all reports indicate that we're both pretty thrilled. 

Jeff should be arriving late Friday for his visit, too, so all in all, we have a big weekend coming, and at least one more Richardson trip on a weekday in my immediate future. 

Oh, and Mother's Day is on Sunday. Mom doesn't want to make a big deal. Of course. She just wants all three of her kids in the same place. That is something we can actually do for the first time in ages, but I still bought her a present. I mean, it's Mother's Day, for crying out loud... 

Pants off dance off

The people across the alley from my parents have a trampoline. They also have children. I imagine most people with a backyard trampoline do. With the new backyard setup my folks have, they occasionally see children bouncing into view over the wooden fence.

It made me think of this comic I saw once: 

When I was over at the house yesterday, I got to see the boys across the alley popping up rhythmically over the fence during the afternoon, and though I was warned, I was still ill-prepared for what they were doing around dinner time. 

The children across the alley apparently enjoy a certain amount of naked trampoline time every evening. I swear, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't had the misfortune of actually seeing it. 

I'm going to give that a moment to really sink in. 

Nude male children on a trampoline. 

Mom put it best. I mean, they're just bouncing around with their little dinguses flopping. 

Wow. So very many questions. Laurie erred on the side of compassion. She thought that may be a coping mechanism that a frustrated single dad used after dinner but before bath time. Mom wondered if one of the boys may eventually get his dingus stuck in a spring. Ouch. 

I figured it was a dangerous thing on a whole different level- that any van-driving pervert with a bag of candy would, upon learning of this ritual, break down the fence for a better view. 

Dad and Danny had apparently witnessed this before while walking out to the shop in the backyard, and while it disturbed them both, it was no longer shocking. 

Not me. I'm still pretty shocked. I love my parents' new backyard oasis, but I'm pretty disturbed about the view around dinner time. 

Liza with a Z

I got up this morning and got cleaned up for my weekly trip to mom and dad's house, as I do on nearly every Sunday. 

I thought there may be something amiss with LBJ as I was stopped at the Webb Chapel & Forest light and watched the slow roll on the overpass, so I pulled up my navigation software while the light was still red.

This particular application calculates the best route based on current traffic information. It would stand to reason, that if LBJ was particularly bad, and alternative would be selected. When the computerized voice told me to continue to LBJ, I thought perhaps the slowdown I was seeing was temporary. As it turns out, it was one of the worst slowdowns I had seen on LBJ in quite some time. This is what it looked like when everyone on the road had to exit (in one lane only) at Hillcrest:

Ah, good times.

When I eventually got to mom and dad's house, everyone was out in the backyard. My parents have recently built a stone patio area with very comfortable outdoor furniture. We spent a good deal of the day outside. It somewhat made up for the harrowing journey there. 

As per our usual arrangement, I went with dad to the grocery store. We typically do this together on Sundays, making our two separate purchases out of the same cart. 

Fun fact, a Liza Minnelli impersonator seems to have been purchasing bananas today:

Just a little bizarre.

Anyhow, it is getting late. I have to go and to be a teacher 24 more times this year. The countdown is on.

Open house

Cas and I looked at a house yesterday. We had no intention of buying it, but it gave us what my very nerdy boyfriend calls our first data point.

It was very pretty. The master bedroom was more of a massive bedroom, and there were three others. The three others were pretty small, though. The lot was small-ish. We loved the kitchen and were somewhat underwhelmed by the downstairs office. It looked to me like the kind of setup for an ambulance chasing attorney to film a TV commercial. 

I had the suspicion that actually walking through an open house would make the whole idea seem pretty real. Mission accomplished. I can't speak for Cas, but I walked out thinking, "Wow. We're really going to do this." 

Here's the requisite page realtors hand out at these things: 

Nice place, but it's not totally us. The search will continue. We couldn't have moved on it, anyway. There's still a month of school left, and neither of us has the time to invest in this until we get our respective students through finals. 

Still, a great Saturday. Now, it's time to clean up, visit with the folks and get my stuff ready for another glamorous week with the children. 

Happy birthday, Jerone

Cas and I met through our mutual friend Jerone. In fact, Jerone's birthday party was the time last year when we finally got each other's phone numbers. Jerone's insistence upon having a birthday every damn year has actually played a big role in my life. Funny how things work out.

Last night, his birthday party happened again. Cas had a work related mini-party to attend prior to Jerone's party, so we were socially in high demand. We were laughing in the car on the way out about an Internet meme we had both seen a while back. It said, "Sure, I'll stay out past 10 pm on a Friday night, said no teacher ever."

By the time we left Jerone's house at 11 pm, we were both completely exhausted. Still, it was good to see our mutual friend. Right before we left, Julie brought out the cake. As everyone was starting to sing happy birthday, Jerone preemptively blew out all of the candles. Perhaps he had heard that group sing before, and didn't wish to repeat that error. 

In the end, they re-lit the candles and sang the song. I guess their voices demanded to be heard. 

Here's a photo of the birthday candle debacle in its second incarnation: 

So, happy birthday, Jerone. I hope you have a wonderful year. 

For now, I have to get ready to go out. Cas and I are taking a look at our first open house. I'm sure it's not a home we are interested in buying, but it might be good to get a few ideas. 

Date night

I think date night may be the best idea Cas and I have had for the school year. We got together last night, and for teacher appreciation week, the parents at his school got everyone a dinner for two. It was a small pan of lasagna, a salad, some garlic bread and a bottle of wine.

Nice touch with the wine, too. My school's PTA got us cookies on Wednesday, but they came at lunchtime. I was giving the SAT at lunchtime, so I missed the cookies. Thursday, there were breakfast burritos. I couldn't head to the office before school because I had a bunch of kids in my classroom. 

I went down during third period to collect two cold breakfast burritos and a doughnut. That became early lunch. So, yeah. I'm appreciated. 

During my actual lunch, this happened:

My sentiments exactly. 

But date night is magic. I saw Cas, we ate his teacher appreciation meal, and we verified that Frank and Claire Underwood are, as ever, horrible people. In fact, he and I just got to the end of season two. Even though I've seen all of the episodes that exist, it's still great to watch House of Cards. We talk to the television. No spoilers, here, but we found ourselves swearing at the screen and saying things like, "Dammit, Doug!" And, "Jesus, Frank!" 

I suppose it will not be necessary next year, but both of us have really appreciated the low-key, weekly time during the school year. Hooray for date night.