Weird Tuesday

Today has been the weirdest day.

It started with this toad sitting on my front porch, just sort of, well, LOOKING at me. Like, he didn't move when I got close to him.
Which, of course made me worry that he'd tangled with one of the cats. Since I really like toads, this upset me. So, I herded the cats (and it's exactly like what you're visualizing--about that efficient) into the house and then I watched that toad on my front porch for about twenty minutes until it became clear that I distracting him from catching the three million mosquitoes that were buzzing around.

Still. It was strange.

I guess I've read too much Harry Potter because it did sort of seem like this Toad might easily have been some wizard transfigured. I mean, we've lived in this house for seven years and I have seen many toads around but they usually don't hang out like they're waiting for you to offer them a cup of coffee or something.

It crossed my mind that maybe I should kiss it.

But you know, there is whimsical and then there is picking up a slimy amphibian, no matter how much you like them. I would have made a terrible princess.

PLUS, I already HAVE my prince and I'm not sure I could take another I am perfectly happy with the one I have.

So, then, out of the blue some 45 minutes into the school day, I got a call from the school nurse saying that she had Little Miss "I Love Fourth Grade More Than Life Itself" in her office and it appeared that she was very pale and complaining of nausea. "What, no B.B. in her ear?" I asked. "I'll come and get her."

So, I went and got her and it was pretty clear that there wasn't a thing wrong with the child.

So I felt sort of taken advantage of, because she wouldn't talk to me to tell me what was really going on, you know? And we both know that she wasn't ill. So, something ELSE happened, but she wouldn't talk to me.

Which makes me crazy.

Okay, so THEN, my book club is coming over for its monthly meeting tonight. It's at my house because I picked the book so I get to host. I picked The Memory Keeper's Daughter, which I liked when I read it but now that I've stewed about it for a few weeks, I realize that I sort-of hated it. Not because the basic premise wasn't good but it just wasn't that well-written. (Last month we read The Glass Castle, which I galloped through in record time. That was a great book, if upsetting to my middle-class you-do-all-you-can-for-your-kids mentality.)

Anyway, the cancellations are coming in and it looks like I might be the only person here tonight to discuss the book. No, I'm kidding, there will be a handful of us, I'm sure. Probably not enough to justify the enormous effort I have made to stash all of our clutter, though, because guess what I realized. No, go on, just guess.

We've become one of those scary families.

I'm not saying we're ready for a reality TV show but we have stacks of clutter. Well, we did. Now it's all in paper bags on the spare bedroom bed.
Which I will have to clear off before my sister comes to visit next weekend, but that, my friends, is not the same as going through each excruciating piece of paper right this second.

I don't know. Somehow, having people over makes me see all the areas in which I have lost ground since my foot surgery, which has rather drastically affected my mobility. And the Clutter Patrol has been a big casualty. So has the Scuffed Paint. The inside of my house needs repainting badly. The books need going through so that the board books can make way for the chapter books on Jane's shelf and the thin chapter books can make way for War and Peace on Ana's shelf.

And okay, I can admit this: I have too much yarn.

No, I do. I know I do. (I did cast on a sweater yesterday, with the step-by-step help of my friend Kate. I'll keep you posted.)

There's a bike in my den.

I'm fat.

My daughter won't talk to me about what's going on with her.

I've had a big snack and I am still in the WORST mood. So, I snapped at my friend Tiffany via e-mail and she snapped back about how she didn't have time for other people's angst anyway.

Touche.

And then, just now, THIS was on my front walkway.

My neighbor, who was waiting for the bus and his son, said he thought it might be a COPPERHEAD. I fainted.

Have I mentioned that I hate snakes?

After I breathed into a bag for a while, I sent a picture to my husband and he told me he thinks it's a Texas Rat Snake. Which is better but the thought occurred to me that if this little guy is hanging out, isn't his Mama somewhere nearby?

This is about more fun with amphibians than I can take.

I'll let you know if the Loch Ness Monster shows up at Book Club.