Wtf, how did that first sentence get turned into a shouty title?!
OK, now the Android app seems to be defaulting here to making anything at the top of a new text post into a title. Even being careful not to enter it in the title field ¯_(ツ)_/¯
Time for a break.
With one (1) not quite full cup of coffee, I just managed to make a pond in the microwave, plus wet down two new loaves of bread and a plastic bag of onions.
I think some also dripped into the floor where I can’t get at it right now, but I’ll try to get it later. Hopefully the milk won’t have started to turn smelly by then. Because of course it was full of milk, to make the cleanup that much easier 😩
(At least the bread was in closed plastic bread bags, and I don’t think any managed to seep in. The onion bag was open, so it went in the trash and now the onions are air drying after some toweling off.)
This would be the second time in maybe a week that I have fumbled a cup and spilled drinks in the microwave while trying to warm them up. The previous one mostly went/stayed inside there, however.
Seriously though, the elementary school I went to was built on top of the “reclaimed” old town dump. Closed in IIRC the late ‘40s, so it’s not like there were any restrictions on what got put in there either.
Come back a few years later, and what a conveniently located big flattish piece of ground to put a new school on! 😵
That particular decision at least seemed to have less to do with any specific inequality factors locally, and more that it was the ’50s when dumb shit like that was pretty much normal. Still hard to believe that anyone ever thought that was a reasonable plan.
But, my mom was part of the first group to go there. They opened it when she was in like 3rd grade. At that point, teachers regularly had to chase kids off from messing with the weird pools of seepage around the playground and the remaining rats hanging around the place.
There was/still is also some nasty industrial pollution in the area, but several of the kids she was in elementary school with died from assorted cancers before they even got out of high school. Never mind later on. Even with the baby boom that prompted them to build a couple of new schools in the first place, it wasn’t a large school population. We’re talking about a relatively small town.
Thankfully the obvious ooze and the rats were long gone around 30 years later, when I ended up there too. Though grass still wasn’t growing right around the playground/field area. It’s probably not going to be a particularly healthy environment for a very long time still, of course.
And this shit still isn’t nearly as uncommon as it should be, without even having ignorance to fall back on as an excuse for decades.
After that last little incident, I haven’t really been wanting to net out more of the Endler babies to separate the boys.
But, I’d better go ahead and try, because I spotted at least one more obvious boy in there earlier. He doesn’t seem to be old enough to want to harass the others yet, which is something. But, that will happen soon enough if he (and any other brothers) don’t move tanks soon.
Currently waiting for Mr. C to get back from Heathrow. So, I can’t really focus on anything.
This has been a pretty disruptive length of trip anyway, not quite a week. Just about enough time to start settling into some sort of routine–and then oops time to change again 😩 But, I will definitely be glad to have him back.
It’s probably just as well there aren’t any Dairy Queens here. Because now I’m craving their chili dogs, “lunch with my Grandaddy” style 🙄
Reminded with one little rant I reblogged again earlier getting some notes.
My Grandaddy really was hard pressed to make himself a sandwich. He fell back on canned sardines and crackers whenever somebody else wasn’t available to make him some food, and I had a number of sardine lunches with him when he was watching me while my Nana was gone doing something else that didn’t need little kids involved. Before I got old enough to fix something for both of us. (ETA: Or we just went to Dairy Queen. Problem solved!)
But, in that case? It was no doubt a disability-related thing. Rather than the kind of “badly prepared for life to the level of negligence” situation I mentioned there.
In retrospect, he really did seem to have some trouble with some other daily living type stuff, left to his own devices. I’m sure that got inconvenient for everyone involved at times, but nobody made any kind of big deal out of it either? That’s just how he was, and he had plenty of other skills.
They also basically got each other through high school, with his dyslexia and my Nana’s dyscalculia. (My biodad got both…) Not much help come test time, but they got pretty good at teamwork. And things mostly got done.
So I end up being hard on myself over a lot more, yeah.
Including having trouble with some of the same stuff. At least we’re not living off sardines around here, either.
Reminded of this again, and I thought I had posted something before.
Another thing I spotted and couldn’t resist adding to the order, whether I really need it or not.
Didn’t even notice that they’re also nondairy until I took the box out of the freezer just now. But, what I’ve eaten of one so far is pretty good.
Tonight’s plan, also from the grocery order. Probably with some extra cheese and maybe other toppings, since the frozen ones usually need it. Also: a premade salad with some Caesar dressing.
I was hoping to get the usual store branded pizza with the best frozen GF crust I’ve had so far, but they only had some kind of BBQ chicken version in stock. No thanks, the Goodfellas is probably more to my taste. They’re not bad from trying one before, but I didn’t like the crust texture as well. It will do.
Probably a good thing I did plan ahead and add something like that, because the disruption of just waiting for a grocery delivery was more than I needed today. Convenient food is a good plan.
My mom knew good and well that she wasn’t cut out for any of the limited range of “caring” professions getting pushed so hard on them, when she was in high school in the mid-late ‘60s. And she managed to resist it.
She ended up with a full ride National Merit Scholarship, and was hoping to take it to Duke (or a couple of backup options) with an eye towards law school. And probably had a good chance of pulling that off.
…If it hadn’t been for a guidance counselor who absolutely refused to send her transcripts anywhere but the local state teachers college. (Which also had nursing programs.) The very idea that A Nice Girl would need to go anywhere or do anything else was ridiculous! Especially since she would no doubt get married and stop working within a few years, anyway. And so on.
She also didn’t have a lot of backup there, so off it was to Local State Womens College, in the same town. Out of the options available there, she initially wanted to go into theatre–but my grandfather pitched big enough fits that she didn’t. (His main concern? It was a well enough known problem then, and creeps like Weinstein could get away with even worse behavior. He really did not want her to end up harmed by that kind of atmosphere. Not the best way to deal with it, but a sorta understandable set of concerns.)
Anyway, that’s how my mom chose library science. She was into books, and at least it wasn’t teaching or nursing. Ended up enjoying it even if she didn’t work in the field for that long (another story), but it definitely was not her first choice.
That wasn’t an unusual type of story in her generation. And no wonder mine tended to get pressure in some very different directions.
OTOH, hers was a more unusual version in that particular genre, because she did manage to resist even that far. Just one of the reasons there are/were so many people in certain “caring” professions who never should have been–and too often take it out on the safe targets they’re put in charge of.
Urocyon's Jaunts 2.0 
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