Wednesday, April 16, 2008

There is normalcy in America. It's over here in the suburbs with the Middle Class! Yes, I went to church on Sunday, and not because I was even remotely bitter. Quite the contrary -I went because I was grateful! And content. And humbled. And in need of a little peace and forgiveness. And guess what? I got it. The government's never been very successful in those areas, unfortunately. But they do give us Tax Day! I'm sure President Obama will give us a bigger, better Tax Day. I'll still be in church most Sundays, sitting off to the side with my wife, weeping softly at the beauty of a hymn.

Where was I yesterday? Oh, at home. How come I didn't post nothing? Not sure. 3 or 4 weeks ago the schedule got a day off, so my work-away-from-home days suddenly became Wednesday through Friday instead of Tuesday through Thursday. This really mixes sand in with the pancakes, let me tell you -my whole weekly routine got all out of whack! Add to that the fact that Mrs. Ditchman has sat out of her Jazzercise classes lately and, well, I can't get anything done at my desk.

That's not to say I'm home all day Mondays and Fridays and such. The build days are scheduled for the middle of the week, with the appointments, meetings, and orders going on at the beginning of the week. This leaves Friday as a day to catch up on missed meetings, or if a job takes longer. It's a good system for me, and I've been able to fit my regular life in among it all and I get free days here and there, but shift it all a single day and my head starts to spin. It may soon spin at dervish levels, too, as this coming weekend is a Home Show weekend, and then next weekend another -two weekends in a row! Luckily for me, the next few jobs are small and simple ones so I'll be able to manage. Unluckily for the Ditchman Family bank accounts, the next few jobs are small and simple ones so it's going to be a challenge to manage.

See how it goes in a family business? Then the child gets sick, or the sitter's not available, or the car breaks down, or family visits from out of town. That's life. I'm not complaining, mind you, I'm just thinking aloud so I can figure out some way to enjoy it!

But yesterday I was at home. Got up two hours before I normally got up. Hung with the family and went on a few appointments together. Took out the trash. Changed out a few sprinkler heads. Didn't write. Didn't run. I remember being busy all day, but what did I do?

I scanned a few things that were on my desk and filed them away. I hung some new data on the family tree. I assembled the SPRING SPECIAL GIVEAWAY in my backyard. (Want one!) I updated the website and posted to the mistress of TMST, the Alumablog. I cleaned up the mess I made beneath the old olive tree. And then there's the matter of the sprinklers. The old Rainbird Maxi-Paw AG-5s just weren't cutting it for me, so I swapped them out with some Orbit Watermaster Voyager 2 Gear Driven Pop-ups. Sure, I miss the old chaka-chaka-chaka sound of a morning in the suburbs with a few Rainbirds out back, but the cool, even swisshhhhh of the Voyager 2 is an elegant sight to behold. Even added an extra one for that dead, brown patch. (That dead, brown patch that is most of the center of the yard.) I'll let you know how green it gets. (Anybody need a few old Maxi-Paws?)

What else? Nothing. Hung out with the kid, who can lash out verbally with the best of us now. I think she found my old Strunk and White somewhere and digested it in the car seat one afternoon while Mommy was doing errands. Seriously! Somewhere last week she decided to start using subject/predicate sentences with distinct direct objects. She got her pronouns down, her articles, her contractions and her gerunds. Now it's a perfectly enunciated and articulate "I don't like rice. I don't like it." and not the MWAAHHH I'm used to. And instead of the AAIIIIIAAH I've become so accustomed to hearing, it's now "Help me with this, Daddy. I need help with it." Days are passing. People are changing. I almost fell asleep on the couch during Dancing with the Ex-Stars, but Mrs. Ditchman saw to it that I properly got in bed, like normal folk on an normal day.

Which is all I ask for.