Thursday, May 29, 2014

Killer Tortillas and the Paper Anniversary

Chuck and I finally got a chance to sleep in our tepee.  We have furnished it with a futon pad, and  added some romance last night with candles.  It was fun, but I woke up with a cold nose and a reluctance to jump out from under the blanket and start my day.

Things have been so nuts lately!  It seems a bit relentless.  I keep thinking that tomorrow will be calmer.  Or the weekend.  Maybe next month?

The hallways at Guadalupe School are filling with packing boxes.  As the school year winds down from the children's programs, the teachers are pulling everything down and putting it all in boxes marked "BAILEYS MOVERS" with tags, color- and room-coded.  Adult Education's packing has not yet begun, and won't get to happen until late in the summer.  Our school runs year-round; so the plan is to go, go, go, take-a-quick-night-off-to-do-the-move, go, go, go.  Today, a bunch of us cleaned out the school garage.  If you think your garage is an issue?  Pffft.  Bags of burlap, chiffon, little paper cubes, tissue paper flowers, old Christmas lights, glue bottles left open to dry out, broken computer monitors that can't be thrown away because the grant that paid for them won't allow them to be thrown away.

Three weeks on the Grand.  The trip of a lifetime! Can't wait!  EXCEPT, my boss got wigged out when I told her.  Here I was thinking:  I'm giving over three months notice; I have four weeks of vacation coming to me; we will have completed the move by then; I have already fixed up the rosters, master calendar and staffing for Adult Ed to cover all the contingencies....  She was just...not happy.  I think this is mostly emotional - the move is draining us all and she doesn't want any key staff gone before, during or after.  She did not me want me to go at all.  I offered her a compromise:  I will hike out of the canyon at Whitmore Wash at about Day 13.  There's a dude ranch at the top, with an airstrip.  Chuck says I can be flown in a light plane back to the put-in, or to Las Vegas.  However I want to do it.  He says not to feel bad about it.  I will miss the last 5-6 days, but according to him, all the best rapids are before Whitmore Wash anyway.  He'll finish it up without me and follow me home a week later.

I think Chuck and I will be doing the food for the trip as well. The trip-leader is still deciding whether to have me handle it or to have prepped by an outfitter. The food is a huge undertaking.  Three meals a day for 18 days for 16 people, all of it packed and organized in advance and needing to stay fresh and edible the whole time.  Actually, I have organized food for river trips before.  Not for this long or this many people, but I can do it.  As long as I start planning now.  Then the trip leader told me that his wife will be coming along, and that she can't eat wheat, soy or lactose.  No cheese, no bread, no pasta, and a hell of a lot of freeze dried meals etc.. have soy in them, I am discovering.  She's going to need to help me out with this a bit, and bring some of her own stuff.  I can just picture myself accidentally killing her with a rogue tortilla.

We were in court again yesterday.  His Protective Order, her Stalking Injunction.  This is starting to get old for me.  I took a book.  I am reading "Dies the Fire", a dystopian fantasy, to distract me from dystopian reality.  We have affidavits from witnesses that Chuck is not a stalker.  Now her lawyer wants to cross-examine them and has  asked for a TRIAL.  So there we go.  I'm imagining a game-show:  would the real creeper please stand up?A two-day trial in August, beginning on our first wedding anniversary.  Super special.  Think the ex will bring us a gift?  Shit!  The first anniversary is the "paper" anniversary, after all; and she has already provided us with scads of it.

But.  It was a beautiful day today, and I am happy.  The weekend is going to be full:  soccer tryouts; Sara's giant Capture the Flag party with all her classmates; Chuck's birthday party on Sunday.  I'm making tamales and a rhubarb cake.  And in a few minutes, I will walk up the driveway and say hi to Chuck and he will hand me a whiskey.  And we'll go to bed, but probably not in the tepee.

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