21 years ago he won my heart because he was personally kempt. All the other college boys were so slovenly in their personal dress, often grimy, and complained loudly if they had to dress up for anything. My guy was alway neat and clean, shirt always tucked in. He took pride in dressing well, and I knew I needed someone who would without complaint put on a sports coat and a tie and take me to concerts.
He valued education generally, and literature particularly, especially poetry and Shakespeare. It is really from him that I learned to love Shakespeare. Until then, I had liked Shakespeare on principle because smart people valued it, and I was smug about it because I didn’t struggle to read it the way my fellow high school classmates had.
But this guy had memorized Richard the V’s speech on St Crispin’s Day. We watched Kenneth Braunaugh Shakespeare films and every Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet movie available. I began to like Shakespeare because it was funny and real and insightful.
This guy read e e cumings and William Carlos Williams to me and wrote poetry to me in emails. I wrote poetry back to him, and he liked it.
He cared about astronomy.
We have been married for 21 years, and he is still kempt. If we are going out on a date—even if it’s just to get sushi at the sushi truck and sit at the park to eat it, he irons his shirt.
I have come to respect his integrity and honesty. He is honest even when it is inconvenient.
He quietly goes to work each day to provide for our family and encourages me to stay home with the children. He has 100% supported me in project homeschool, even talking me back into confidence when I have days when I’m convinced I failing and should just quit. When I’m worried and full of anxiety, he is great at asking me questions until I can calm down and discover a solution or realize that nothing is really wrong after all.
As requested by me so I can implement them in homeschool.
Ten reasoning abilities and habits of mind necessary for critical thinking:
Consciously raising the questions: what, how do we know?, why do we accept or believe?, what is the evidence for?
Being clearly or explicitly aware of gaps in available information.
Discriminating between observation and inference, between established fact and subsequent conjecture.
Recognizing that words are symbols for ideas no the ideas themselves.
Probing for assumptions (particularly the implicit, unarticulated) assumptions behind a line of reasoning.
Drawing inferences from data, observations, or other evidence and recognizing when firm inferences cannot be drawn.
Performing hypothetico-deductive reasoning; that is given a particular situation, applying relevant knowledge of principles and constraints and visualizing, in the abstract, the plausible outcomes that might result from various changes one can imagine to be imposed on the system.
Discriminating between inductive and deductive reasoning; that is, being aware when an argument is being made from the particular to the general or from the general to the particular.
Testing one’s own line of reasoning and conclusions for internal consistency and thus developing intellectual self-reliance.
Developing self-consciousness concerning one’s own thinking and reasoning processes
Monett Cub Run results: Blueberry Pie placed 3rd in his age division with a time of 25:06
The Man of the House won his age group with a time of 25:25!
(Blueberry Pie called his age group the “Neanderthal” age.)
In other news, Judging by the pile of butter knives on the counter this morning, my kids must have used a new knife for each peanut butter sandwich they made while I was gone.
At least they fed themselves. That’s a win for me.
The kid’s favorite part of the night was getting to ride in golf carts from the parking lot to the stage area–since we were VIP guests for the night.
The fireworks were magical to watch-as they always are.
On our ride back to our cars, one of the golf cart drivers commented that she was having a hard time seeing–it being dark and golf carts not being equipped with headlights. Peach Pie informed her very matter-of-factly, “You need to eat more carrots so you can see in the dark.”
I guess my kids are listening when I go on and on about why eating vegetables is good for them.
We decided that the perfect end to the celebration would be a visit to Braum’s. We were right.
English: Vinita Hotel, in Vinita, Oklahoma (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
So this morning I blissfully headed out the door to do a Mary Kay party. I left in plenty of time and I had everything ready.
The party was a bit farther than I usually go, but it was for a sweet little lady who is a great customer so I was happy to go. I got there just fine and my new iPhone bailed me out when I couldn’t find Pat’s house. I tried to call her, but I had entered her phone number wrong into my phone. Never fear, I used my Mary Kay app to log onto my website and find her correct number.
The party was fine-I sold what I sell on average–even though 2 of the guests refused to try the product because they were not going to remove their makeup. This always surprises me, though it happens occasionally. I talked a little bit too much and left a little late, but all was well. Here’s where things started to go downhill.
Since my trip required getting on the Oklahoma Turnpike, I headed towards the Vinita toll booth. It wasn’t labeled very well and I wasn’t sure if I should pay toll or take a ticket (and pay later.) I opted for take a ticket because that is how it had worked when I came from the opposite direction. As soon as I was through the booth, and past the point of no return, I could see that my ticket was for the wrong direction. It was for west and I wanted to go east. Right on the ticket is says something like, “It is unlawful to take this ticket and travel in a different direction than stated.” I panicked. I did not want to be unlawful. FIGHT OR FLIGHT! FIGHT OR FLIGHT! I went west even though I was already late and even though I knew it was the wrong direction because I didn’t want to be unlawful. It cost me 20 minutes and $3.25 in toll fees to go down to riggin’ friggin’ Big Cabin and turn around. I imagined telling the whole thing to my dad and how he would laugh and ask, “What are you such a silly goose for?” The worst thing is it was all so deja vu, like, I’m pretty sure that I have done this very same thing before. Next time, Vinita, I’m traveling east no matter what. Get a better sign.
Now an hour late instead of half an hour late, I continue to the Baby-sitter’s and pick up the girls. I really hate being late to the babysitter’s. It makes me feel so flaky and bad mom and unreliable.
I let the DH know that I will be late home and make one last Mary Kay delivery before heading home. Now I’ve been on the road for more than 2 hours and I’m tired. Not sleepy tired, just that numb “I can’t believe I’m still in this stupid car when I just want to be home” tired. So I’m just on auto-pilot, thinking about home and what I’m going to cook for dinner, when suddenly I see those beautiful red & blue flashing lights in my rear view mirror. Yep, that’s right, I’ve totally missed the 30 MPH sign and since my auto-pilot default is 45, I’m in trouble.
Don’t worry, I did not miss the irony of getting pulled over for speeding when I already ruined my afternoon in an attempt to avoid being “unlawful.” The thing is I wasn’t trying to speed. I just wasn’t paying attention because I was so done.
Is it just me, or are police officers getting really young these days? Mine was wearing a jacket that was too big for him and a mustache that was WAY too big for him. After he decided to give me a ticket, he went into this schpeal about how my signing it was not an admission of guilt, just and acknowledgement that I had received it. I asked him if I could just pay it and not go to court, which he said I could. Then he repeated the whole schpeal about how my signing it was not an admission of guilt, just and acknowledgement that I had received it, and then get this, he said in this very wheedle-whiny unsure voice, “So…will you sign it?” I’m not sure what he expected me to do instead. Flip out and scream at him in front of my 4-year-old? Wake up the baby? Maybe the way I was just sitting there with my hands in my lap and staring straight ahead all defeated made him think I was about to go psyco.
When I got home, the big kids had done their chores and the DH was washing dishes. Ah Home, sweet Home.
Then as I unpacked my Mary Kay bags, I discovered I had lost one of the sales slips from the party. Not only does that mean I don’t have the lady’s information and can’t get paid, it also means her bank card information is where? Still at Pat’s house? Blowing down the Oklahoma Turnpike? There was that bit where my car window got tired of going up and down at toll booths and just stayed stuck down for awhile…..Oh the humiliation of having to call her and tell her I’ve gone and lost her card number who knows where. How to avoid that in the future? I bet my iPhone has an app. Curses for not thinking of that sooner.
Oh I just want to curl up in a ball and eat a bunch of chocolate. Wait…already did that and am 500 calories over my limit for the day. Super.
I think the best part about being married is that at the end of a day like today, I can go home and get a good hug and know that somebody still thinks I’m great, even if I’m an idiot.
And I’ll tell him about that speeding ticket tomorrow, first thing, I swear. It’s just that when I took a breath to tell him, I felt like I might start crying and so I stopped…
Apparently they use a vice to stretch the knee open during surgery. Maybe it’ll make one leg longer than the other.
Tomorrow morning I take the DH in for surgery to repair a torn meniscus in his knee. Yesterday we were sitting on the couch and he outlined what I’m supposed to do with the insurance money if there is some kind of terrible knee surgery accident that kills him.
I told him the knee is pretty far away from vital organs, comparatively, and that worst case scenario, if they really messed things up, it might end in amputation. And that wouldn’t be so bad, I would just call him “Stumpy” for the rest of his life.
Also when people asked him a question he didn’t know, he could shake his head and say, “I’m stumped.”
bahahahahahah
Hopefully his sense of humor isn’t located in his right knee because it would be terrible to lose one’s leg and one’s sense of humor at the same time.
photo from Monett Times
photo from Monett Times
Marvelous Pigs in Satin 