possumcowboy: (Default)
Of course you have. I've been wondering the same thing, of late. What with all the signs of The Apocalypse happening under my own roof, I'm amazed that I'm not wondering from a nicely padded room at LaRue Carter Hospital. My biggest concern is that they make sure I have on two pairs of socks when they put me in the straight-jacket. The one thing I truly can't live through is cold toesies. Is it bad that I can spell Apocalypse correctly the first time, without using any kind of spell-checker?

Last week, if you'll recall, was The Sign of Water, in which we dealt with flooding, and then with "The Incident In Which The Jackhammer Tore Open The Waterline", in which we dealt with reflooding of a previously flooded area which was being dried out in order to be repaired. I'm pretty sure that the other signs of The Apocalypse are just now lurking around the corner. Most likely, they're waiting until the week before ISTEP to pounce all at once. are they allowed to do that? I mean, isn't that against some sort of celestical or celestial or select testicle code of conduct? These are questions which come to me in the middle of the night.

Today, this morning, or, if you prefer to be technical, on Monday morning, there was a moment of happy news in the classroom. An assistant principal popped by, with a folder full of writing samples from my students. They had been scored by the administrative staff, and most of my class did exceptionally well! Not top scores, but above the middle scores for sure! Only if you have been a teacher of children who seem to strive to not learn anything can you truly appreciate the way I tell you that I about broke down in tears first thing on a Monday morning. I complimented the entire class, told them that we would keep working on the writing process, and they proceeded to give their brains the rest of the day off.

I've just taken it upon myself to look up the Seven Signs of the Apocalypse. I find that a flood isn't listed as one of the choices in the Apocalyptic Menu of Disaster for the Endtimes. I'm not sure if I should be pleased, as this means that a minor plumbing issue in my home does not indicate that the end is near, or if I should be disappointed because I wanted to be interviewed by Oprah as "the man whose home was the catalyst for the end of all life as we know it on our lonely little planet".

Apparently, for each of the Seven Signs, a seal is broken open. I'm pretty sure I don't want Greenpeace here in my front yard pitching a fit about seals being broken open, so that's a bad start. For the first four of The Signs, there are The Four Horsemen. I VERY sure I don't want horses in my backyard, even if they are the apocalyptic harbingers of Conquest, War, Pestilence, and Famine. It's like my dad used to say: "I don't care WHO you are, Fat Man! Get those damned reindeer off my roof!"

Well, "The Repair Guys" were here today (yesterday) and put the carpet back down, with new padding where the old padding got soaked. With any luck, they'll put the vanity back in the master bathroom soon. Another bathroom sink will be greatly appreciated.

I'm close to my target back-to-bed time. There isn't much else to record. Cats are good. Kids are good. Wife is good. I'm good. It's all good. Good night.

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possumcowboy

April 2015

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