So, where was I before letting off a little steam?
As I mentioned, last Thursday I drove the Queenager down to St. Louis (a mere 300 miles of flatlands) then another two hours the next day to visit a college in the middle of nowhere with the country's best Journalism school. Of course, because I was on the scene, half way through the tour, all the tornado sirens went off and we had to gather in the basement. I could tell by the black (rather than dark green) sky that there wasn't a tornado within miles (old pro that I am), but that didn't alter the fact that it was chucking it down and the umbrella was a distance away, in the car. Got a little wet, we did.
After our visit, we drove the two hours back to St. Louis in the angriest lightening storm I have seen in a long time. Americans may brag about everything being bigger and better, but on the storm front, they're spot on. Forked lightening off in the distance crackling right down to the ground. The people in Missouri don't seem to believe in lighting their roads, and they didn't have any cats' eyes (reflector things, for any Americans reading) on the road itself, so I had to drive most of the time behind huge trucks to ensure I stayed in the right lane. I could barely lower my shoulders back into place when we got to my friend's.
On the home front, the dog has conjunctivitis (pink eye). I tell you, next time I suspect one of the kids of having that, I'm taking them to the vet instead of the doc. He put little white paper strips in her eyes to make sure she was producing enough tears, and of the right PH balance; then he put dye in to see if she had a scratched cornea or an in-turned eyelash. I commented on the battery of tests and he (wisely) said it's because we can't ask them questions. Yes, I felt a bit stoopid.
Finally he diagnosed the conjunctivits and gave me some eye drops. It's lot easier to dump eye drops into a dog's eye than a 7 year old's. Even though she must know what's coming when I clamp her between my knees and widen her eye with my thumb and forefinger, there's none of that tiresome scrunching up of the entire body and wailing to the heavens when the dollop finally hits its target. I think I should make the Little Guy sit down and watch how it's done.
Lastly, baseball practice has started for the Man-Child - 5 nights a week!!! Granted, it's that often because a lot of the boys have other commitments so this is to ensure that they get at least 3 nights of baseball in, but it still means phoning the guitar teacher to see if the lesson can be moved, and rescheduling a dentist appointment.
Oh yes, and the Queenager is in the chorus of this year's high school musical - Grease. Due to the fact that about 50 of the seniors wanted to be in it, they are running behind on the rehearsal schedule. (It's in two weeks.) She therefore will be in school every night this week till either 10pm or 11pm. Of course, the Ball & Chain is out of town, which means that I either have to send the Man-Child to walk her home (with angry mutt on leash) or I have to go. It's still not warm enough to want to take a stroll to school at that time of night.
Sometimes it feels like I've been shot out of a canon!