Woah.

So, apparently it's really scraping the bottom.

I'm not officially anything (and have schedule things to clear up today and tomorrow), and the phone was ringing this morning trying to woo me to go teach.

Dang.

I'll be up and running early next week with this thing.

Morton Salt

It's been since 2005 that I've been on a formal payroll. 2006 was the last year I worked for money.

Dang.

Well, today was one of those days.

I finished my district training to be an emergency substitute teacher. What does that mean? It means I have a degree in a subject, and I passed the background check. Ultimately it means that when they reach the bottom of the substitute barrel, and they scrape a little off, they can then call me.

I suppose there might be exceptions, but that sounds like how it's going to be.

It's $105 a day (not too bad). And a full day means anything beyond 4 hours.

It should be pretty nice.

No sooner do I get home, when potential future employer mentioned a couple of weeks ago let me know that I've been asked to fly to MD at the end of April for a week-long training program.

So, it's shaping up to being a busy spring.

Very busy.

What's for dinner

I was at Costco a week or two ago, and fell in love with its meat.

Actually, it was a simple 8 pound roast. It looked all meaty, with just enough fat and marbling through and through.

I just had to have a reason to make some.

Today is that day.

Chickadee invited jcbetty over for some dinner. They're obligated (as it our tradition here) to bring a dessert and a bottle of wine. The wine's the tradition.

So, in the roast went to cook at 250 for most of the morning. I just jacked it up to 350 for a few hours (it'll go to 375 when I go to bake the challa).

Oh, yeah. I'm baking my own Challa today. I find it to be a simple, tasty bread that is good to break with new friends. We'll see how it goes.

My heart broke when I learned that our friends are not garlic people, as I was going to roast the garlic before putting it into my mashed potatoes.

It'll be okay, I might break for the store for some shallots or something that would offer a similar, but less intense flavor. Though, I'd be tempted to caramelize the shallots to serve just on top of the potatoes.

Oh, I'll also cook some carrots. I"m thinking I might be up for jullian carrots, but depends on how much time I want to spend cutting.

In all, it should be good to go by this afternoon when they get here.

Conversations with a 7 year old

Her: You smell good, daddy.

Me: Thanks.

Her: You smell wonderful ... a bit like grandpa Tom and grandma Susan's bathroom.

Me: Uh, thanks.

5 year old speaks

Me: "Please stop blowing bubbles in your milk"

Him: "Dad, do you know what's making me do this?"

Me: "Uh, you are deciding to do it."

Him: "It's my bad germs."

/I give up/

Two weeks in brief

Two weeks ago:

I received word that after 93 years, 15 days of good life, my Grandmother passed away.

It's hard. She's the furthest back I can go for knowing who my ancestors are personally. She and my mom's dad divorced back in the 'good old days' of the 1940s (when 'nobody' did that type of thing). It's kind of a secret that slowly eeked into common knowledge. So much so that I was out of college before I had been able to place most of it together.

She's the one that hosted elaborate dinner parties, with name cards for each guest ... good silver ... and good cooking.

I'm sad she never met my niece. But, very fortunate that each of her cousins, my children, were able to meet her, at least the oldest will be able to remember.

One week ago, I sat in a retirement community with Grandpa.

In February, he'll turn 91.

Last year, the youngest and I flew to celebrate his 90th birthday.

He and grandma were married for 57 years. Genetically, there is no direct relation. But you know, that doesn't matter. At all.

He opened his home to us when mom lost the house to foreclosure in the early 1980s. We lived with the two of them for about 8 months straight, and then again for three months in the summer.

We sat and we chatted about those times ... the massive amounts of popcorn we ate ... the, the, generosity of his heart.

We chatted as we sat, both avoiding the fact that it would, very, very likely be the last time we saw each other. It was only a half hour, but I relished each second.

He loves each of our grandchildren. He holds family and those relationships as the highest priority.

He complimented chickadee's and my children for being well behaved ... well mannered ... and just good children.

The weest one gave him a hug and a kiss ... the middle one slept ... the eldest took pictures.

I took in the conversation, the precious minutes and seconds.

Then, he nodded a bit, ready for a nap.

We hugged, the only type of hug a six foot tall man can give a nearly 91 year old who is weak from losing his spouse of 57 years ... the type of hug where you're afraid to squeeze too hard because you think someone might break ... but the type of hug where you don't want to let go, so you memorize the roughness of an unshaven cheek, the light peck on the cheek, and the "thank you" repeated two or three times as you pull away, and look in their eyes.

We left and he stayed.

It was difficult.

Happy moment!

As of today, I'm the bottom of the list.

It was hard work to get that far.

You see, since Oct. 24 I've had my application in to be an emergency substitute teacher in our school district.

Today, I got the call, drove the 70 miles round trip to turn in the proper form and pick up my temporary permit.

Wednesday is my orientation.

It'll be a great little supplemental income project.

I'm looking forward to it.