Is That All (30M2DoW: Day 28)

30 minutes out of Montreal, a plaintive cry came from Dufus.  "Is that all?"  Dufus looked longingly into the bottom of the picnic basket, hoping for another helping of poutine.

Simultaneously, Eolist was looking at the bottom of her coffee cup, echoing the same sentiment.  "Is that all?"

The caravan was beginning to sputter.  Max looked at the petrol indicator.  "Is that all?  Good thing Bedlam doesn't run on petrol."  

Boom Boom sat up front next to Max, frantically typing on her laptop, hoping to finish before she arrived at Nicky's house.  If she didn't finish each of the prompts, she wouldn't be allowed to attend the "30M2DoW Reunion Party".

Meanwhile, from the back of the caravan Indigo was channeling Peggy Lee, singing this motley crew out as they approached Montreal:

Is that all there is, Is that all there is?
If that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is.

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It's been a long and sometimes perilous road to the end of this writing challenge.  Be sure to venture one last time over to the House of Cheese to see who else was in at the finish.  Until next time...

And That's Why I Got Drunk... (30M2DoW: Days 25, 26, 27)

Fact or Fiction?  I followed the rules explicitly for this writing challenge.

The correct answer is fiction and because I didn't follow the rules explicitly, I ran right out to buy a t-shirt commemorating the event to assuage my guilt.  (Thank you, Indigo, for offering us that penance at just the right moment.)

(The t-shirts make Indigo and I look younger, thinner
and even more fabulous than we already are!)

What?  You think that's cheating?  Deal with it!

Yes, I've fallen a couple of days behind on the "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing" challenge.  May I be struck by a wheel of falling gouda on the way to work today.

But today's prompt?  "And that's why I got drunk..."  Surely, Nicky and CheesyMike don't expect me to go out and do something so outrageous that I would get plastered, snockered, shit-faced or (to put it a bit more elegantly) enebriated?  For shame, CheeseFreaks!  For shame!

I'm definitely waiting to have that experience at the "30M2DoW Survivor's Reunion".  It's all happening at Nicky's house.  Be there or be square!  And wear your t-shirt!  Date and time to be announced.

(Dufus, Indigo, Max, Eolist and I are already on our way since we don't like being late.  But not to worry... there's still room in the caravan if you want to join us!)

Confucius (30M2DoW: Day 24)

We were tooling down the Adirondack Northway toward Montreal.  Eolist Petite was on her fifth cup of Eolist Blend,  Max was up front at the wheel, and Indigo was sitting cross-legged on the bed at the back of the caravan.  I had been online, catching up on what absurdities everyone had posted late in the day on the "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing" challenge.

When I looked up, I noticed Indigo had grown quite a substantial beard since we'd left Rochester and his hairline appeared to be receding.  Curious, but not so much once you get to know him.  His three piece suit had been exchanged for a looser dressing gown in a similar shade of greyish blue.

Eolist happened to look up at the same time.  "What's with the top knot, Indigo?" she asked.

"I am not one who was born in the possession of knowledge; I am one who is fond of antiquity, and earnest in seeking it there."

"Antiquity... that must be why you seem to be aging so rapidly," added Max.  "Although, I'm a little confused about why you're starting to look like Chow Yun Fat."

"They must often change who would be constant in happiness or wisdom."

"Well, I'm still confused about why we couldn't use the time machine to zap us up to Montreal instead of having to take the long way around," whined Dufus.  "I could have gotten there faster if I'd driven myself."

"Where did you come from?" I asked.  (Silly me... I should know better than to have to ask those kinds of questions when I'm in such illustrious company.)

"I have no idea," said Dufus.  "Thing One and Thing Two were running around the house and I said something about rather being in Bedlam and now here I am."

"By nature, men are nearly alike; by practice, they get to be wide apart."

"Then I must definitely be out of practice," replied Dufus.

"Are we there yet," asked Eolist.  "I really have to pee."

"Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart."

As I looked around this bizarre group of companions, I realized that we were nothing if not full of heart.  Yes, it was going to be a great weekend.

* * * * * * * * * 

As we draw closer to Montreal, we draw a little closer to the end of the "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing" challenge.  So time is of the essence... hurry on over to check out who else is channeling the wisdom of Confucius in today's prompt.

Absurd (30M2DoW: Day 23)

This is it!  Nicky and CheesyMike's Surreal and Absurd Weekend Festival!  Be sure to stop by the Cheese Shack (an absurdity in itself) to check out all the surreal and absurd entries in today's "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing" challenge.

It's the absurdities of life that keep me going.  I don't know why, but they amuse me.  Probably why I'm always so delighted with the real life adventures of that scamp, Indigo Roth, since his tales epitomize the absurd.  When I'm down in the dumps, he can always cheer me up.  Someday I want to be him... living with a lion, consorting with badgers, enjoying time travel to exotic places... what's not to like?

But I digress.  Here's an example of what I'm talking about....

One day about two years ago I was a little discouraged about life.  My leg was broken, I'd lost my job, my dog, and my will to live.  The Aflac duck was chortling about the fact that I canceled my policy a year previously.  "Damn you for adding insult to injury, you fowl piece of crap!"

Suddenly there was a tapping sound coming from my not-so-decorative fireplace.  I hobbled over and pulled away the fireplace screen, pushing the electric logs from the firebox with my crutch.  It was then I noticed the small metal plate where the flue would have been were it an actual wood-burning fireplace.

When I turned the latch that held the plate, a cloud of soot came rushing out of the gap above.  Choking, I fanned the air in front of me.  I saw a tall, dapper gentleman standing there.  It took me but a moment to recognize him, since he wasn't accompanied by Lion.  As he dusted off his three piece suit, there was another cloud of soot and I was overcome by another fit of coughing.  "It's time to go," said Indigo.

Max's new caravan which he named "Bedlam"

Before I could even blink, we were outdoors and there was a caravan parked on my front lawn.  My lungs were clear, my crutches were gone and I was pain free.  "This is absurd," I said.  "No, this is Bedlam," said the newest arrival, Max Tunguska.  "And I'll thank you not to go slashing my tyres again!"

The door of the caravan opened and out stepped a petite woman holding a cup with an image of herself emblazoned on the outside.  The aroma from her coffee brought me back to reality... or whatever strange world this was.  She smiled and waved a hello as Indigo said, "Get in. We have to get to Montreal before the weekend is over.  Nicky's expecting us."

"Oh, no!  Please tell me this isn't the weekend.  I thought that wasn't happening for another two years," I exclaimed.  "I'm not prepared."

"Prepared or not,  we're expected and it wouldn't be cricket to leave the rest of the gang wondering what happened to us," said Indigo.  "Besides, we never did find that Caerphilly cheese."

And with that, we were whisked away to the "Surreal and Absurd Weekend Festival."

Yes, it's the absurdities that make life worth living.

Compulsively (30M2DoW: Day 22)

It wasn't like she had to keep everything.  It's just that those things might come in useful someday.  Especially in the classroom.  The children loved using "stuff" to create things.  Old film canisters, bits of cardboard, fabric remnants, cardboard tubes, buttons, magnets, old wooden spools from thread... the list went on and on.  When other teachers had an idea for a project, they'd mention it to her and nine times out of ten she already had the supplies they needed.

At one time, she had things organized, but eventually it got out of control.  Boxes filled the attic to the rafters.  Her compulsive book buying didn't help, either. The downstairs bookshelves were packed to the brim with books on every topic.  It was so much easier to have the books at hand than to have to go to the library every time you started a new theme at school.  But like the attic, the bookshelves got filled and the books started creeping into other areas of the house.

There was only one thing to do... she had to start working as compulsively at culling her stockpile of "stuff" as she had been about collecting it.  It was either that or start going to some 12-step program for hoarders...  and who had time for that?   Especially now that she had started obsessing compulsively about the "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing" challenge.  

* * * * * * * * *

Time to go on over to the Cheese Hoarding Duo's place to see who else has been obsessing compulsively about writing.  Lord, what fools these mortals be!

The Last Train (30M2DoW: Day 21)

Okay, so I'm feeling a little lazy this morning.  The "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing" challenge Mike and Nicky are sponsoring said you could repost, so here goes.  It's a little longer than my usual fare...  it's from my earlier blogging days before I learned that less is more.  Be sure to check in at the We Work for Cheese station stop to see who else is participating today.  

The last train has long since left the station here at the Crap Shack but, in his younger years, my son was all about trains...

* * * * * * * * * 

On My Way to Mommy Jail… Adventures in Parenting: "The Railroad Years"

The first seven years of little Vladimir’s life were filled with his dreams of becoming a train engineer.*  For about five years he wore the same outfit every day… OshKosh overalls in a tasteful blue and white stripe, along with a matching striped engineer’s hat. For Halloween he would dress it up with a red bandana.  (No cute little pumpkin outfits for Vladimir!) 

This suited Vladimir’s dad and I just fine.  We gratefully bypassed the current popular culture icons such as Mutant Ninja Turtles and Power Rangers.  We felt it was far superior to go with the classic childhood toys.  Our house became filled with trains of all sorts… Brio, HO, N-Gauge, G-Gauge, Lionel, Duplo, Playmobil, Lego... and more. The Little General became one of our favorite movies and Thomas the Tank Engine’s best friends became ours as well.  My creative contribution was to craft stuffed cloth Annie & Clarabel train cars to go with the stuffed Thomas the Tank Engine that Vladimir took to bed each night (in lieu of the traditional stuffed animal.) Vladimir’s dad spent hours in the basement workshop, creating new additions for the collection… tiny wooden train sets, additional wooden track for the Brios, Christmas tree ornaments, etc. Each was lovingly crafted for the enjoyment of all. Family vacations were spent traveling to railway museums and sleeping in caboose motels.

Later on Vladimir developed an interest in roller coasters.  Because he was a large economy-sized kid, he was tall enough to ride these amusement park demons by the time he was four.  And I dutifully accompanied him, trying my best not to faint or lose my lunch on the spiraling drops in mid-air. (My personal best was riding the Quantum Loop five times in a row without barfing.) 

Now, you’d think these were innocuous pursuits, which would afford few reasons to be sent to Mommy Jail.  But believe me… there are plenty of ways that only Vladimir could come up with. 

From an early age, a favorite Saturday morning routine for Vladimir and his dad was to go to one of the local train spotting locations to watch for trains.  During these outings they would occasionally find old railroad spikes and the “fish-plates” into which they are driven. These would be collected and brought home for the “collection”.  This would not be bad in and of itself.  However, I was a bit taken aback one morning when I came outside to find 4-year-old Vladimir with a sledge-hammer in hand, pounding the spikes through the fish plates and into our driveway.

“HOLY CRAP, Vladimir!  WHAT are you DOING?!?!”

This reasonable question was met with a proud smile and the words… “Daddy said I could do it.”   GRRRRRR!  

(Cut to scene of parents arguing in quiet voices about the sanity of this pursuit.)

I had visions of having to rush Vladimir to the hospital with a spike sticking out of his foot and blood gushing from the massive head wound where he had clunked himself with the sledge-hammer.

Emergency Room Nurse:  “And Vladimir’s Mommy… how exactly did little Vladimir come to having a rusty railroad spike driven through his foot… not to mention the gash in his head?  Were you actually stupid enough to think these were appropriate toys for a 4-year-old?  We’d like to have you talk to our social worker now.”

Definitely a reason for being sent to Mommy Jail!

Vladimir’s dad assured me I was over-reacting and so the tradition continued and the number of fish-plates in the driveway grew.  For years I thumped over them as I drove the car in and out of the driveway and swore at them each time my shovel came to a jarring halt during the snowy season.  (It wasn’t until Vladimir was 20 years old that he finally agreed to remove them.)

Another time, Vladimir and his dad decided to build their own roller coaster.  It was really cool!  They made 24 feet of grooved wooden track out of 2 x 4’s that actually went up and down and over which Vladimir could ride a little cart that they also created.  We would add “poppers” to the track to create extra thrills.  (The chances of being arrested for having contraband “poppers” in our possession were slim, so I agreed to go along with this plan.  They may yell at you for being stupid, but I don’t think they take you to Mommy Jail for that.)  Come winter, the track had to be put away. 

One day, Vladimir called me to the basement to ask a favor.  He was clad in his cute little engineer outfit as usual and had gotten out one of the sections of roller coaster train track.  He was laying down on it and wanted me to tie him to the tracks.  Okay, I’d play along…

I did such a good job, Vladimir looked as though he’d been tied there by Snidely Whiplash himself!   Then Vladimir wanted me to leave him there like that.  I went back upstairs and went about my business and all was quiet from the basement.  The more I worked, the more uneasy I became… 

This would be the perfect time for someone to come visit, (for example, the social worker from the hospital,) discover I had my child tied up to railroad tracks in the basement and turn me in to the Mommy Police.  Mommy Jail was definitely looming in the distance.

When I rushed back downstairs to untie him, Vladimir was laying quietly and contentedly, wondering why I was in such a state.  Poor Vladimir… once again I took all his fun away by insisting he had to let me untie him.   Worse, I made him promise never to go to school and tell everyone I had tied him up in the basement and left him to rot. 

Lucky for me Vladimir’s a great kid… or else he could still be holding this one over my head to this day! 

Mommy Jail still lurks!

The Other Shoe (30M2DoW: Day 20)

Where did it go?  She'd often heard that phrase about waiting for the other shoe to drop, but this was ridiculous.

They'd been hiking for hours and all she wanted to do was rest her feet for a few minutes.  The cool water from the stream was so soothing.

Wouldn't you know, that was when the dog would appear out of nowhere and steal her sneaker.  He ran with it a ways up the path, turning back to see if she was going to play his little game.  When she looked away, he dropped the sneaker as she hoped he would.... and ran back to grab the other one.  The game was afoot as far as the dog was concerned.

If she'd worn hiking boots like her boyfriend suggested, this never would have happened.  Her feet wouldn't have been so sore and the boots would have been too heavy for the dog to toy with.  But there was no way she'd give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right.

So she pretended she didn't care... until the dog playfully flipped the sneaker up in the air and it landed in the middle of the stream.  The other shoe had literally dropped.

Jumping up, she was met with gales of laughter from her companion as she tried to retrieve the shoe from the stream that was quickly going from soothingly cool to treacherously icy.  Slipping and sliding on the mossy rocks, she nearly lost her balance twice.

Then, just as she was about to reach the shoe, the current swept it away and she simultaneously fell.

Oh, that grating laugh.  Damn him.

* * * * * * *

Hike over to see who else is participating in the "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing" challenge... before the other shoe drops.

Little Things (30M2DoW: Day 19)

As the cameras rolled outside the courthouse, reporters were speculating on what caused the woman to savage her husband with a chef's knife as he slept.

By all accounts, they had a solid marriage, living in a large home in the most affluent neighborhood in the city.  They had tickets to the theater and were active in their church.  Both volunteered for area non-profit groups.  They had answered phones on so many PBS telethons that people thought they must work for the local station.

She had been the chairwoman of last year's Charity Ball.  They raised more money than ever before under her leadership.  Her husband had looked dashing as she entered the ballroom on his arm, beaming.  Who would have thought there was trouble in paradise.

Their children were grown now and were also pillars of the community.  Both she and her husband doted on their grandchildren, taking them on trips to exotic places.  They introduced them to the wildlife sanctuary in Kenya, went trekking in Nepal and took them to visit the orphanage they sponsored in Malawi.

Outwardly, there was nothing to indicate that there was strife in the marriage, let alone enough to cause such a brutal carnage.

When the reporters finally got their interview, all she could say was, "It was the little things."

His grating laugh,
the way he left the toilet seat up,
the remnants of shaving cream in the sink,
the winks he'd give waitresses,
the attention he gave to the cats,
the ever so soft slurping of coffee in the morning,
the constant humming while he worked,
the way he always stopped for yellow lights,
the muddy footprints in the kitchen after a walk.
But most of all it was the grating laugh.

Nothing big or earth shattering... just 35 years of niggling annoyances.  Little things she thought about as she plunged the knife over and over and over again into his chest.

* * * * * * * * *

Now, go on over to see who else is participating in "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing" before Nicky and Mike get annoyed with you and start sharpening the cheese knives.

Home at Last (30M2DoW: Day 18)

It had been a long week.  

Whoever said it would be fun to chaperone the middle school class trip to Toronto was wrong.  Raging hormones, silly pranks, surly teens... what had she been thinking?

It was bad enough that some of the kids jumped in the fountain right before dinner.  Worse was the stink bomb in the dorm.  Where do they find those things?

What did her in, though, was when her top student, Nicky, and Nicky's best friend Mike snuck off in the middle of the night to get tattoos to commemorate the trip.  How was she going to explain that to their parents?  Somehow, she didn't think they'd be thrilled that their children now had tiny wedges of swiss cheese permanently imprinted on their shoulders.  

Yes, it had been a long week.  She kept telling herself that someday it would make a great story.

Someday... but not tonight, she thought as the bus pulled into the school parking lot.

Home at last!  Thank god almighty, she was home at last!

* * * * * * * * * * *

Head on over to Nicky & Mike's place to check out their tattoos... and check in with the rest of the gang who decided to tackle this prompt for the "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing" challenge.

Whatever, Dude (30M2DoW: Day 17)

I spend my days with little kids.  I like to think it keeps me young.  After so many years of teaching, you'd think there wouldn't be too many surprises.  You'd be wrong, though.

Most are delightful surprises.  Others not so much.

Like the child who used to tell me to "fuck off".  Charming.  His parents eventually pulled him from my class because I was "the worst teacher ever".  Dad was a bouncer at a local bar and he felt it was wrong of me to deny his child the pleasure of pounding other kids simply because they glanced his way.  He thought it was important for his child to learn to defend himself and felt his child was justified in telling me to "fuck off".  Whatever, dude.

Happily, those instances are the exception to the rule.  Most of the kids I work with are engaging, thoughtful, creative people and their parents are appreciative of the work I do.  That's why I left my administrative job to return to the classroom.

But I still worry about what happens to the ones I lose.  The children whose families, for whatever reason, aren't open to what I have to offer to their children.  Sure, I can say, "Whatever dude." But it still hurts.

* * * * * * * * *

Now, head on over to Nicky & CheesyMike's place to see who else is participating in "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing".