Saturday, February 16, 2013
In seventh grade, at a brand new school was built just for us,Our school was built as pods, round pods, roughly 12-sided (nearly round). Each pod had a central, round, room that was used for a variety of purposes. I never had a class in the center of any of the pods. Each pod had six or eight classrooms. Funny, I am not sure about that. Anyway, it was pretty cool. Definitely not ordinary. I liked that.
So, in math class, which was our homeroom, and with the classmates that I had been with since either first or third grade, as well as some kids from the other elementary schools, we had an important announcement. Our teacher gave up the routine permission slips for the standardized tests that were scheduled for a couple of weeks away. I took that permission slip home. At dinner, we discussed, as always, what our days had been like, and I shared the news that I had that permission slip for a parental signature. Now, my dad was a red-headed, freckle-faced guy, and a born trouble maker. He said “What would happen if we did not give the school permission to give that test to you?” My mom was shocked. Well, maybe a little bit. She had a little bit of trouble maker blood, too. Anyway, after some discussion, and my internal examination of whether or not I was willing to take that question to school, it was left up to me. My parents did non intend to have me bypass that test. That was not the point. The point was what would happen IF they did not give consent.
Anyway, the next day, with some fear in my heart, I did not hand in my permission slip. It was in my PeeChee folder for math. When our teacher asked if everyone had handed in their slips, I raised my hand and said, "No.". That, in an of itself, was unusual, as I rarely volunteered for anything at that point in my life. Our teacher gave me the floor. I asked the question, something like: “My parents are wondering what would happen if they refused to give me permission to take the standardized test.”
One would have thought that I stripped naked in the room. The room was SILENT! Our teacher paused for a long period of time, and said “I do not know.” Well, that was news! He was one of our best teachers, and he didn’t know the answer to a simple procedural question. Well, he said he would get the answer. Good man! We continued with our class, and after the lessons, we went on to the next class.
Later in the day, I noticed that my mom was on campus. I saw her walking from the square (!) office to the building that our teacher had his office. Mom was dressed in her seersucker dress. IT was blue plaid. She had sandals on, and she carried her blue leather purse. I was not anxious to know what was happening. I never was called into the office until after mom left the campus. The office called me, and I spoke with both the principle and our teacher. They said that I would take the test as scheduled, thanked me for my question, and assured me that all would be OK.
When I got home that afternoon, mom said she would tell me what happened when dad got home. She was not happy with me – only because I had actually asked the question! I was sent to my room for the remainder of the afternoon. When dad got home, I was called out to the living room. Dad smiled from ear to ear. He told me that he was proud of me, but that I should not ever do that again. Mom did NOT want to be called to the school to answer questions posed by educational authorities. Perhaps that is why I rarely asked questions, answered questions, or questioned authority while still in school. Who knows?
I took the test. I did well. All was well, of course.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
This morning I got up and made some steel cut oats. It was SO GOOD that I had seconds. I am still under my breakfast calorie allotment. What a nice way to get a "stick to the ribs" breakfast without a ton of calories.
I am going out to get some walking in. It is 29 degrees (F) here, so I will go over to the antique mall to get some walking in. Then, if that is not enough, I will go over to the big box hardware store to get the remaining steps in.
I have not met my walking goal over the last two days. I need to make up for that!
Friday, February 15, 2013
I have the luxury of working from home today. I did my billing (I have to bill for my work for the two agencies so that the county can be reimbursed from the Federal Government). I fixed a nice lunch (Grilled cheese sandwich, tomato soup).
I am working on the permanent custody hearing. I am up against four other attorneys. The fifth attorney, who represents the best interests of the kids, will support my side. The kids (3) have been in the custody of children services for two years. No visits from parents in the last 12 months. No child support paid. No success with the reunification plan.
I have 25 exhibits, only four of which will need to be entered as evidence. One exhibit is 247 pages long (will not go into evidence). The trial is next Friday, and is set for all day.
Today I am pouring through the 247 pages. They are the printout of all the agency contacts with the parents, foster parents, social service agencies, drug counselors, etc. I have the caseworker's testimony all done (done three weeks ago), but I need to make sure there are no surprises in the printout.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Got to work, heard that my boss called in sick, so I handled the juvenile cases as well as the child support cases. It was a close call, as I was double-booked for three court time slots. But, all worked out.
However, since I got to work at 7:15, had only 30 minutes for lunch, and then was back in court until 4:45, I was tempted to . . . go out to a steakhouse. By myself.
But, because I do NOT want to exceed calories for the day, nor drive home after dinner in the dark, I came directly home.
One daughter is at work, another is at class, and hubby is in another state.
Oh, wait!! I have the house to myself. What to do?
AH: Watch a movie. Hunt for Red October, coming up!!
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
In third grade, I was on the lower grade side of our elementary school campus. The basketball hoops (two sets) were on the upper grade side, as were the cool tall swing sets. I sneaked over to that swing wet once when I was running and errand for the office (Yes, I was an office assistant in third grade).
I scooted over there (forbidden territory), swung on the swing on my belly and promptly scraped my chin on the ground and bled profusely. I had no legitimate way to explain this injury to the office staff, so I got in trouble for that transgression.
The principle spoke to me while he was holding the office paddle (with holes in it), but he never punished me. He didn’t even remove me from the office volunteer staff. Whew! Of course, I got blood on my clothes, so mom dispensed the appropriate punishment and never went up to the school.
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