Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Report In

December 8, 2009

Cue triumphal trumpet sound clip. I finished grading the semester reports yesterday, leaving only Exam 3 (two-thirds completed), study question assignment 2 (0% completed), final exams (will receive on Friday), and final projects (will receive on Friday) to grade in the next week. If you think this is sarcasm, you don't know how deep a hole I have dug myself out of to get this close to finishing. I'm jubilant. Something about my ability to focus on the mundane duty of grading has wobbled this fall. At times, I've focused like a laser, but other times, I have read the same assignment over and over again, indecisive about its ultimate fate.

So this morning, I loaded another fifteen pairs of shoes (bringing the total to about 45 pairs), eleven bead trays, and my suitcase into my car. I'm taking Davis and Evi to dinner tonight, picking up Ruby so she can start her winter holiday, and spending the night on the south side of Houston, so I have a chance of making it on time to my 7:15 (A.M.!!!) lanyard workshop for fifty!

That's all for now, except to report that a 65-pound short-haired dog can retrieve the leftover Thanksgiving ham off the counter, without breaking the platter or making any noise discernible from the other end of the house, and reduce it to its essential ham bone in less than three minutes. An added bonus to such an act comes from the gas-production side-effect that could clear even your most intrepid unwelcome guests from the house for a full 24 hours after.


  1. Oh man, I can symathize. Because imagine that 60 pound gas machine is 130 lbs...he was kicked out of the bedroom. *sigh*

    I still have the chills from the Mickey/Vickie connection. I think someone is tinkering with strings in a higher place.

  2. I love your descriptions of your dogs' antics. My dog only got as far as grabbing a dinner roll off the table. He can only dream of leftover ham.

  3. I can't believe someone is leaving an advertisement on your blog comments!?!... *sigh*

  4. The ham story was a keeper. With a 6-pound dog on the premises, we don't worry much about stuff being stolen off the counter but he has snatched a hot dog or two from ill fated (and ill placed) paper plates.

    O, our wonderful (and annoying) doggie friends.