Sunday night ramblings

Waiting for the sleeping pill to kick in...

Yesterday I felt cooped up and needed to break out of the house. I was even just a tad crabby. I gave Bob the lecture about "not ever having anything to do, anywhere to go, or anything to look forward to just tears me up." I give him that lecture a lot. So he appeased me by suggesting the car show and Subway today.

We woke up this morning fairly early for a Sunday. Thomas was still asleep so Bob and I were sipping coffee and talking about his art. Of course we only thought T was asleep, he was wide awake in his bed listening to everything we were saying. Grrr.

Our conversation was mainly about his "flair" for art. He's always loved to draw, he's always hated to use any color. He got reprimanded on a daily basis in K and 1st at public school because he wouldn't color.

We were discussing his Titanic picture. That really is the first time he has ever start to finish painted a picture. It took him a few hours. Granted, I know there were lots of flaws -- the water line wasn't straight, the propellers weren't right -too much showing, but the fact that he did the lights reflecting in the water, the fact that you could actually see depth on his decks, and the fact that in the original you could see where the water was different colors. (It didn't show up on the scan.) Obviously, he's got a raw flair.

Thomas's ceramics teacher pulled me aside and told me he had a flair for art. She said he had some natural talent and sees things other kids don't see. So that's what we were talking about, then Thomas joined us. As I was making a second pot of coffee, Bob ran downstairs and pulled all the art books again. (I had looked them all over earlier in the week.) He also pulled his painting box out. We had an art lesson at the kitchen table. Brushes, brush care, colors, color mixing, styles, translucent, opaque, yada, yada, yada. I ran and grabbed one of Thomas's sketch books. Bob grabbed the Primsacolor things that are like colored pencils but not really. (See how good I am at art?) Our kitchen was covered head to to in art stuff.

Thomas sketched the morning away. He's pumped. We've decided we need to make a mini art studio in the house. This stuff just takes over my small kitchen and there is carpeting in our school room. Plus, there's not enough room in there. So that will be the project of the week, cleaning out a corner of the laundry room. Bob's going to get his easel out and set everything up. He volunteered to teach Thomas art.

Ahem. That makes two subjects Bob will be teaching now: physics and art. If only he'd take over math. lol The only bad thing about this is Bob is, well, not as gentle as I am. He's gentle, but he's brutally honest as well. The first night the two had physics together, Thomas bawled. Now it's great, but they had to get used to each other. I had to keep telling Bob that Thomas is a kid and doesn't know what you know. Go figure.

So an artsy morning, everyone was happy. This afternoon we hit the car show. Basically it's a car club in our small town. Mostly old cars, but there were a few newer cars, too. That took about a half hour. Bob and I both drooled over the Chargers, Mustangs, Firebirds and Cameros. Thomas drooled over the '50s trucks and some butt-ugly station wagon. I still don't know what he was thinking. I should have snapped a photo of it, it was that ugly. lol

We went to one of our two mart stores, made eye appointments, and picked out our new glasses. Sheesh, so much for a new furnace -- $500 for new glasses for Bob and I. And darn it all, it would have been much cheaper if we both didn't need bifocals. Ugh. Oh, and of course I'm getting prescription sunglasses -- a must for driving. (My blue eyes cannot handle bright sun.) Those frames were on sale for $19.99. That worked out really well because I'm just so stressed after an eye appointment and I hate picking out glasses. So the hard part is done. Now we just need to wait a week.

We then went to Subway, ate, and came home. I cleaned my filthy kitchen -- and it was filthy. I was lazy this weekend. There was paint on all the counters. Thank God it was tempera, Clorox Clean-up took it right off.

And, well, here I am. Still waiting for the sleeping pill to kick in.

One final comment. I felt a "scout" rant coming on while replying to a comment, so I'll take this opportunity to rant because I'm so good at ranting.

Thomas had debated back and forth about joining boy scouts. Yes, no, yes, no -- I was the same way. Yes, you may join; no, you may not join. I finally gave in and said okay. So back in March there was a scheduled food drive. We got the letter in the mail two days before the activity. We show up at 9 sharp, and not a soul was there. I parked, scratched my head (well, I really didn't do that, I probably said a cuss word) and then the old cub master walked out of the church. He told me that the boy scouts had postponed it and they were meeting at another time. He didn't know when. Honestly, I was a little ticked off. I'm not one to be out of the house and presentable by 9 am on a Saturday morning. Plus, I always liked doing that food drive. So when I got home, I called the troop leader and one of the assistant troop leaders. None returned my call.

Strike one.

Strike two: They have not had a single troop meeting since the night before my den crossed over in February. That's over two months. No meetings. NOT acceptable.

Strike three: I'm friends with the manager of our local grocery store. His son was in my den. His other two sons are in boy scouts. We chat about scouts every time I'm at the store and he sees me. Really nice guy, and his son was my favorite boy (except for Thomas, that is.) His oldest son works at the store, too. That boy "let me have it but good" that he was not happy about the state of affairs of that troop. He talked to me in the milk aisle for a good twenty minutes. I could tell he just needed to unleash his frustrations on someone. He told me nightmares about the new scout master. Seems if you upset him, he gives the boy a toothbrush and has them go clean the toilets. He told me the TM is very hard no the boys and frankly is no fun. He shared how the former troop masters made it fun, did things, and, well, cared. There have been two *women* troop masters before our current male leader. They would have never gone two months without a troop meeting. Anyway, I thought the toilet thing was bad enough, but he told me that the TM would tease the boys and make it hard on them if they got homesick when they went away to the big camp.

Pardon my language, but that was strike three and I said screw it, Boy Scouts "ain't gonna happen" for us.

Thomas is highly sensitive. If he was given a toothbrush and told to clean the toilets (they're not flush toilets, either) he'd freak. And darn it all, if a kid is homesick and having a hard time being away for a week, IMHO that child needs gentle encouragement, not someone riding their tush about it. That only makes things worse.

So there's my rant about scouts. DONE. FIN. Cubbies was fun, and we both really miss it, but unless they get an adult who knows what s/he is doing, forget it.

And here I sit, my eyelids are starting to droop, thank you Ambien. Enough ranting, time to prepare for a new day.