Yeah, August 1 seems early to me, too.

However, they have off a week in October, November, 2 weeks in December, a week in February, March then schools out 3rd week of May. It’s Year-’Round School here. The week in October is vital, because it’s Fair Week, and when peanuts and cotton are harvested. Statesboro is still country enough that many of the high school students work their daddy’s farms and have to be off during harvest. I don’t have a problem with that. It’s probably what #3 will be doing. The school tends to look the other way during the fall, as long as the student’s grades are good.

Fair Week is the Social Event of the Season, starting with a HUGE parade, and then the Fair itself, straight out of National Geographic with pig and cattle contests, pickle competitions, Coconut Cake Bake-Offs, the whole nine yards. Also a carnival for the kids- ferris wheel, games of chance, opportunity for girls to scream and press up close to their feller.

The parade itself is worth the trip if you want to see a Jen-You-Wine Southern Style Festival. Yes indeed, there’s the Antique John Deere Club, the Antique Allis-Chalmers Club, and the Antique Massey-Ferguson Club. Then there’s the Contemporary John Deere Club, Allis Chalmers CLub and Massey Ferguson Club. You’ve never seen such a conflagration of farm equipment.All driven, of course, by every politician between Savannah-Macon-Athens-Waycross. There’s the Beauty Princesses, from Teeny-Tiny Miss CottonBoll (18 mos-2 yrs) to (no joke) Miss Turpentine, who could go on to Miss Georgia and ultimately Miss America. We have Miss Peanut,Miss Boll Weevil, Little Miss Southeast Bulloch County, Northwest Bulloch County, and Statesboro. There’s the cast of whatever play is being held at the Emma Kelley Theater. This year I believe it’s “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum”. The students of all 3 Dance Academies will be parading with tutus and sparkle wands- except for the ones who are riding the front of their cousin’s four-wheeler as Young Miss Natural Gas. All bands are present: Portal High, all 20 of them; Southeast Bulloch High, larger at about 30 members; Statesboro High, still more at 75 members; and Metter High with their enormous percussion section and 3 instruments. Georgia Southern University Band thrills with the skill of the majorettes and shiny horns.

Everyone who isn’t in the parade goes to watch. Blankets are packed, and boxes of chicken aquired from Bi-Lo or Popeye’s, dogs are leashed and places are claimed early under trees and in the shade of buildings. The whole thing lasts over an hour. I have the great advantage of Little Martha. The top goes down, the dogs get on the dashboard and slobber on the windshield, and we all hoot and shake politicians hands. Since 2008 is an election year you can bet they’ll be out in force.

I promise, come October, I’ll take pictures.

It is why Summer is short.

So we got the gameroom cleaned, mopped and unsticky and all games paired with their boxes. #4’s room is cleaned, dusted and rearranged, everyone helped, good boys that they are, and now I have Free Time.

So, in the interest of nothing really, I typed the word “strange” into google images, to see what happens. Here’s what happened:

A strange attractor, something like a fractal in that it has to do with math. they lost me after that.

A strange cloud

John Woodville Strange

Allen Strange

A strange picture of puppies

And this wasn’t in Google, but in my own files. It’s an extra special message to someone who knows who he is.

I think I might be sad this morning. I try hard to not look too deeply into emotion, because it usually gets me into trouble. I start thinking too much, which leads to dissatisfaction which leads to angst, then everyone’s unhappy cuz if mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.

It’s the last day of Summer Vacation. Kids went to Open House at their schools, I met #4’s teacher and saw all the new textbooks and boxes of pencils and listened to the soothing music she had playing in the background. She told me her credentials (Master’s working on PhD) and I told her mine (Housewife, available for any and all purposes). #4 trolled the room, looking at the books in the baskets at the reading corner (Look Mom! Roald Dahl! Star Trek!) and rearranging the supply baskets on the desks, making clever little sculptures out of erasers and sponges. I’m happy, because he loves school. I’m sad, because he’s not my baby anymore. I’m happy because his teacher seems competent, and sad, because he’ll be learning stuff in 3rd grade that I didn’t start until 5th and 6th, stuff like Euclidian geometry and composition. “Oh yes,” she assured me,”3rd grade is definitely old enough to know how to write an essay.” She asked if he was in the gifted program. No, I answered, he keeps falling a hair short of the requirements, tho he gets tested every year. “Don’t worry about that. He’ll get plenty in the regular class, I’ll see to that.” That was nice to know. Last Spring he was a little put out that he didn’t get to do the Quest stuff like his friend Kevin The Smartest Kid In Second Grade.

Today, I’m enlisting everyone to help get the gameroom cleaned up. They’ve been using it all summer and it needs an overhaul. If all 3 help it won’t take 30 minutes.

Today, we’re getting in the pool and making the most of it.

Today, I might take them to lunch somewhere. Last Hurrah kinda thing.

Today, I’m going to try hard not to dwell on the scary fact that I have 3 kids who can drive. Who own their own cars/truck. 3 of them. Driving. I thank the God Above that we live in Statesboro and not Atlanta, or (even worse) Savannah. Savannah drivers are scary bad. Statesboro drivers are just slow. Why be in a hurry when you’re only 10 minutes from one side of town to the other? My mouth dries up thinking about 3 of my children on the road. No wrecks or tickets so far, Thank God. #3’s truck absolutely will NOT go faster than 60mph, downhill with a tailwind. I know he won’t be racing. #2 came home talking about racing someone for $500. He has a car that could do it, but Sweet Daddio ripped him a new one over that, loudly informing him of the legal and insurance consequences if he ever got caught, then forcefully informing him of the personal consequences after he (Sweet Daddio) got out of jail for ripping #2 a new one. So he promised not to. #1 is on his own. He don’t live here no more and I think he’s happy with his new digs and doesn’t want to risk losing independence, plus he’s not the type to race or whatever. It’s scary riding with him, because it feels like he’s not paying attention to what he’s doing, but he’s never had a wreck or anything so I guess he’s paying more attention than it seems.

So I’m sad. My children, they’re all leaving me! Except #4. I have a couple of years yet before he quits sitting in my lap. I’m going to enjoy them.

I am looking forward to having my days alone again, to not making sure everyone knows where I’m going and when I’ll be back. 90% of the time I’ll be right here, but just having the option is cheering.

But, I’m also sad about it. No more little boys in this house. No more anyone holding my hand in the parking lot. 3rd, 10th and 12th grade. *sigh* In 2 short years, the amount of time we’ve lived here in Statesboro, there will be only 1 child in the house. There will be 3 (!) extra bedrooms. A pound of meat will make a meal. We can eat dinner out for under $30. Laundry…wow. It might get lonely. I won’t think about that.

Cheaper Than Therapy: Sometimes You Just Gotta Say….

You know, I hate confrontation. I’d rather have a root canal than get into an argument with someone. Everything becomes internalized, what if I’m wrong and they’re right? What if they believe my different opinion is automatic disapproval of them and all they are? What if they hate me?

Thing is, I have strong opinions. When I have an opinion about anything, it is based on a combination of research and gut feeling. I guess I’m just a girl that way, going on feelings. There are lots of things out there that I feel very strongly about. Stuff like abortion, religion and faith, child rearing, economics, drugs…same things everyone else has strong feelings about.

Only, I won’t go into them. Because of confrontation. It seems like whenever I do, someone jumps up who’s louder and more forceful than me, and I back down just to make them be quiet. I really don’t like that about myself. I wish I had a thicker skin, or armor, or credentials.

I’m not as nice as I seem. Someone will say something that I disagree with vehemently, because I know they’re absolutely wrong and might even burn in hell one day for that attitude. I’ll stay quiet, tho, because the fuss just isn’t worth it.

As a consequence, I’m fairly sure everyone thinks I’m this sweet tempered, mild mannered Southern Belle, kind of a Melanie Hamilton type that everyone loves but no one fears.

One day, I’m gonna blow, and it won’t be pretty. One day i’m going to get in someone’s face and say “YOU ARE WRONG NOW GO SIT DOWN”. Then, 10 minutes later, the magnitude of the act will sink in and I’ll just curl up and die.

In the meantime, don’t think for a minute that I don’t have opinions, strong and well formed ones.

Tea, anyone?

Becaue I’m incapable of original thought, yet I know a really good idea when I see it, and because Certain Person With Child needs to read such things so she’ll be Equipped, I’m giong to tell a baby story. But not right now. Maybe later.

Someone came here from South Africa! And now there’s someone else from South America (Brazil, this time)! Cool!

Oh, I know, you can go to Dooce and it’s all one big red blob, she even gets visitors from Siberia. And Kate has people from all over too. But I do not suffer Dot Envy, no I don’t. I’m just thrilled and astonished that someone from South Africa came here, even if accidentally.

I tend to feel completely anonymous most of the time, like, if I were to suddenly drop off the face of the Earth people would notice about 2 weeks later, when the floors got sticky. Not all people, I’m pretty sure Sweet Daddio would say something when I didn’t answer the phone the third time. But other folk- kids, neighbors, what have you. It would take them a while.

Therefore, when someone on the other side of the world takes enough notice of my existance to warrant a red spot on my map, I get pretty excited.

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate.
All that paper. You get a huge stack of mail and 95% of it is NOTHING. The other 5% is stuff I could do online. I hate waste paper. It offends my sensibilities and makes that Earth Mother bit of my psyche really really cranky. So wasteful.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
Those stupid little ad things that come with bills You know, Magnetic Bracelet! Guarenteed to Cure Arthritis and Excema! or Abdomicizer! Get Abs Like This 22 yr old body builder who’s never had children! Yeah right. Phpphphhtt.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
How we are all set up to pay every single bill online through our bank, every single one,(ok, almost every single one) and even though the companies billing us KNOW this, because we’ve told them 100 times, they STILL send us paper in the mail. I thought the Computer Age meant less paper, not more.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
Our water company, the single remaining account we have to pay through the mail. They send us a postcard with no inserts, no admonitions to buy useless shit, just a “please pay $30 by the 25th of the month, thank you.”

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
I know how to make paper from cloths and leftovers, I’ve never met an artisan paper didn’t like.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
$100 to take to the SCAD store in Savannah, to buy paper made from marigold petals, and a bookmaking kit, and fabulous inks and pen nibs, and a mat cutter. I also wish for completely tremorless hands so I can return to calligraphy and illumination.

Since I seem to have run out of things to write about, you know, deep substantive and thought provoking posts like I normally write *koffkoff*, yet, I feel a strong obligation to my Public to keep churning out the stuff. So, I’m going to use Google Images to provide interesting content. Today, the topic is Big.

big cat

big horse

big mess

big truck

big burrito

big dog