And according to a friend sitting next to me at lunch today, the sirens last night were warning of hail, not possible tornadoes.

We've got hail sirens?    I didn't know that.  Makes sense, though, considering how much damage hail does around here.  Gives people a chance to put their car in their garage (assuming it's not being used as storage space, as is mine) and get the animals inside.  

The Wedding is now a little over a week away and apparently excitement has reached fever pitch in some areas.  Not here, mind, but some places.  Live television coverage will begin at 3 a.m. CDT, for pity's sake.  Why can't royals get married in the afternoon or evening like the rest of us, eh?  The odds are strongly against my getting up to go out to the living room and tune in.  This may be an occasion when recording it is a more prudent option.

Cannot deny, however, that it's more satisfying to watch events in real time.  Not sure it's satisfying enough to miss a night's sleep, however.

Tell you what I wish, and that's that someone in my neck of the woods would record it and have a Wedding Watch party that morning.  Tea and crumpets and scones and hot buttered toast while watching Will and Kate tie the knot!  Sounds like fun to me.  

This afternoon the Blue Angels flew overhead in formation (there was an airshow at the JAB), and before long the fireworks will start up at the Botanic Gardens.

Blue Angels and fireworks seen from one's own back yard.  Is that cool or what?   

Speaking of backyards, what on earth is up with the woodpeckers this year?  There have always been the odd one around, but this spring the sound of pecking is almost nonstop.  What is truly puzzling is the woodpeckers are usually pecking away on (at?) utility poles.  Wouldn't have thought there was a lot of good eating in (from?) a utility pole, though admittedly I've not given it much thought 'ere now.  

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Tomorrow is Palm Sunday, the first day of the week leading up to Easter.  We'll be singing "Lift High the Lord, Our Banner," which is one of my all-time favorite hymns, and afterward there will be a Tenebrae rehearsal for a bit, then the monthly Ta Ethne (it means "to the nations") luncheon, which is always a treat.  Love hearing from our missionaries and how the LORD is at work in the world!  On Tuesday evening will be another Tenebrae practice, then on Wednesday evening I'll be helping greet for the Seder meal, on Good Friday is the Tenebrae service (if you've never been to it and are within driving distance, COME!  It's at 7:30 and only lasts about an hour, but it's astounding what that hour encompasses).  Then EASTER, with the choir singing at three services in succession.  Woosh!  Tiring, but a joyful, joyful time.  

Wore a green outfit this morning to bible study - no one's pinching me, by jingo - then baked a cake and frosted it with green frosting I bought on sale after Christmas, and have a corned beef simmering on the stove.

Faith and begorrah, but it's a fine day to be Irish!

Which I partly am, and thanks to my mother, I'm celebrating St. Paddy's Day this year having stepped on the Old Sod last year.  

It was held at Dillard's then, but now seems to be sponsored by malls, not a particular department store.  Anyway, it's Brianna's turn to be in the spring fashion show.  Jessica was in the one at Ridgmar Mall when she was younger, but Brianna was at Northeast Mall, of course.

Picked up Jonathan and off we went.  It's been ages since I've gone to that mall, and goodness but it's grown!  Must say I like the ample covered parking.

Since Brianna was ill on Thursday, today was the first time Jonathan got to see Jessica and her girls.  Here they are with Bridgette:

While waiting for Brianna's turn on the runway, I snagged a photo of her in line, watching as one of the older boys had his hair, um, styled.  I saw more peculiar hair styles, on both boys and girls.  Often it was just messy looking.  What's attractive about messy?  

As I mentioned, there were some boys too (just a few, naturally...the overwhelming number of models were girls), including a couple of little guys who must have been, I dunno, five.  First one came out, working the crowd who chortled with delight at him, then as he returned to the screened area, another boy came out.  They met about five feet in front of the starting point, performed a complicated hand-slap/fist-pound routine, then the second boy, instead of continuing down the runway, turned around and went back with the first boy.  The audience was most amused, though likely the second boy's family wasn't...there went their photo op!  Well, a bit later here came the first little boy in a different outfit, he made his runway appearance, upon almost reaching the start here appeared the second boy, they repeated the hand-thing, and darned if the kid didn't again turn around and retreat!  The crowd really found that funny; much funnier than I'm sure his parents found it.  Paid all that money for their son to have two appearances (Jessica says one is included in the base price of the class, but additional moolah allows additional turns) and he never gets more than a few feet from the screen.  

Kids.

Brianna did very nicely indeed, BTW.  

Jonathan and I intended to see her in the "snake", as I believe she called it, when all the kids came out in a line, but misjudged how rapidly the remaining children would take, so missed her.  Boo.  Still, we were there for the main show! 

This afternoon I had the intense pleasure of picking up Jonathan from the airport.  It's his first time home in a year and a half!  

First I drove him through downtown on Belknap so he could check out the changes there, then headed down West 7th, which has seen tremendous change.  Not to mention, it has the SuperTarget I favor, and I was out of paper towels.  We both picked up some stuff, then it was off to Whataburger, a treat San Jose, CR doesn't have.  After a bit I took him to Mom's house, where he's staying as all three of our bedrooms are taken.  I suggested he bunk in with Dmitry, but he inexplicably preferred to have his own room and bathroom at his grandmother's home.  Go figure.  

Late in the afternoon Alex, Beth, and the girls drove over from Mesquite, Dmitry came home from work and visiting TCC, Mom and Jonathan arrived, and Charles too.  Brianna, sad to say, is ill so Jessica didn't get to come.  Mom generously provided the wherewithal for Railhead and I went to get it for us.  

After supper the guys were corralled for a photo:

Ta-da!  All four of my handsome sons:  Dmitry, Jonathan, Charles, and Alex.  

I wish I could get all six children together, but alas, Charles is off to Padre Island tomorrow morning and won't return until the day Jonathan leaves, i.e. Wednesday.  Oh well.  Next time!

Ordered the Bissell Momentum vacuum from Wal-Mart on January 12.  Highly recommended, but on-line only.  

Received an email on January 13th saying it'd shipped.  Except it turns out that was just a shipping label being issued...FedEx didn't actually take possession of it until the 17th.

On the 19th I watched the tracking site, eagerly waiting for it to arrive.  Six cats without a working vacuum?  Not good.

To my dismay, that evening the tracking showed "delivery exception."  Oops.  I'd made a mistake when entering the shipping address, omitting a numeral.  Okay, that's my fault.  The next morning I called early and they got it on the truck with the correct shipping address.  Watched and waited.  No delivery.

The next day it showed "On vehicle for delivery."  Watched and waited.  No show.

On Monday morning (yesterday) I called, a trifle perturbed.  The representative (and don't even get me started on how difficult it was to convince the stupid automated answering thingummy...Don sold 'em but personally hated 'em...to give me over to an actual human being) couldn't really figure out why it hadn't been delivered earlier, but assured me it'd be on the truck today.  Call early to make sure, though.  So I did.  Yes, it was on the truck.  A few minutes before 5 p.m. I was getting anxious, called the 800 number and browbeat the computer into letting me talk to a person, and was told it was for sure on the truck.  They had until 8 p.m. to get it to me.

At 7:25...fine, I'm impatient...I checked the computer tracking site to see "delivery exception:  no one home or business closed".  Called the 800 number, snarled at the computer, then started in on the guy who answered.  While on the phone with him, Joe came into the bedroom carrying a whacking big brown box.

Oh.  Um, it arrived.  Sorry.  Thanks.  Felt like a moron.

Opened the box to discover pieces of the vacuum cleaner had been dumped into it and brown paper added for bulk.  No instructions.  No packing slip.  Nothing.  According to the label it had come from Bentonville, Arkansas, so this was how it was shipped to me.  Grimly and angrily I took a photo, closed it, printed off a proof of purchase from the net, then hauled it out to the car.  Dmitry said Joe was careful to stay out of the way, I was so mad.  Drove to the Wal-Mart and shoved the box along the ground and into the store, whereupon the greeter greeted me rather nervously.  Smoke was doubtless emanating from my ears.  When she scanned the bar code on the box she was nonplussed, muttering it made no sense.  "Sweet candy?"  she said, puzzled.  I pointed out someone in Bentonville had clearly taken an empty box that had held candy and dumped the pieces of the vacuum into it.  She affixed a sticker on it, offered a buggy (which I refused, as my mood called for kicking the box along), and pointed me to customer service.

The woman working the desk, named Twana, was a sensible person.  The supervisor she nabbed was, regrettably, not.  That woman  - okay, to be fair she had her purse hooked over her shoulder, so must have been on her way out, but back when I was manager I delayed my leaving many, many times to take care of problems such as this -  poked at the contents and inquired whether or not it worked.  I told her with some exasperation I really had no idea, as I closed the box right after I opened it.  She wanted the packing slip.  Irritably I told her there was no packing slip, or any papers of any kind inside the box.  "This is not acceptable," I firmly stated.

Ms. Useless blithely advised Twana to get the serial number, then left, leaving us both staring after her in astonishment and annoyance.  How the deuce Twana was supposed to do that, considering the fact the shipping people in Arkansas had neglected to include any information that would have such a number, we couldn't imagine.  Then it turned out I had left home in such a rushed fury I'd forgotten to get my AmEx, which was how I'd paid for it.  Oops.

Twana went ahead and gave me a gift card for the amount I'd paid, though from what she said to a newbie next to her, I don't think she was actually supposed to.  She requested to be allowed to keep the papers I'd printed out, which I graciously allowed, seeing as how I can easily print them out again, if needful.

Then I went to the vacuum department, chose another one, and purchased it.  It's okay, I guess, but it's not a Dyson, that's for sure.  Still, I emptied the container three times when vacuuming the living room and my bedroom.  Barring bones and skin, I swear I vacuumed up the equivalent of a cat.

If Wal-Mart thinks it's heard the last of this, it's sorely mistaken.  I cannot imagine what buffoon thought it'd be a good idea to take pieces of a vacuum cleaner, toss them in an empty box with some wadded up brown paper, not bother with instructions or a packing slip, then send it on its way.  Talk about a lose-lose situation, as now a local Wal-Mart is stuck with a vacuum it doesn't carry (it was only available on-line, remember), with no documentation or anything, plus it had to deal with an irate customer.  Not to mention a less-than-stellar performance by a supervisor.  Twana was the sole bright spot, and I fully intend to let Wal-Mart know that.

I also think I may crab a bit more at FedEx.  Fine, it's my fault it wasn't delivered on the 19th, but that doesn't excuse it's not showing on Thursday or Friday, when it was said to be on the truck for delivery.

Mercy Maud, what a foul-up this was!  Argh!  

Better late than never, as they say, and goodness knows, they should know.  

It was a great holiday season!  Wonderful Thanksgiving, terrific Ivy Carolfest, Christmas day at Jeanne's, a quiet New Year's Eve, THE FROGS WON THE ROSE BOWL, and the Ivy celebration on January 2d, which was also Matt's birthday.  Good times, and I thank the LORD most sincerely for them.

Last night I began to take the Career Solutions workshop, for I need to find a job.  Well, what I need is moolah which pretty much comes from having a job.  Keep wishing I could think of characters and a plot and be the next Agatha Christie or Debbie Macomber but, alas...there is no story within me striving to get out.  Most annoying.  

Right now I'm trying to decide whether to go for a Career or just a job.  I'd rather like to be a receptionist someplace, but almost always get stumped by the qualifications required these days.  This is lifted from a position I found at Monster.com:  "Must have knowledge of a variety of computer software applications in word processing, spreadsheets and presentation software (Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Adobe, Photoshop)."

To be fair, at least this place merely requests "knowledge of", which I do have.  I know they exist.  I've even piddled around with them, and gone so far as to take a course in Excel.

Most employers want you to be really, really good at those programs, unfortunately.  No one ever requires someone who can piddle around on Word, Excel, and Powerpoint.  If I could find a position needing a piddler in those programs, I'd be golden.  

A physician friend has suggested medical coding as a career path.  It would require training, which would be okay, but I'm concerned that even were I trained no one would be anxious to hire someone crowding 60 years old.

Another area I've thought of is hospice care.  Not having a nursing degree...and absolutely no intention whatever of getting one, just so we're clear...I'm not sure where I'd fit in, though.  One thing I've learned since Don died is that I'm drawn to those who are grieving over the death of their spouse.  Having been blessed to be present when Don and Dad died, I can truly say deathbeds hold no terror for me.  Not a bit.

Boomers are aging and let's face it...there are going to be a whole lot more widows (and widowers) over the next decade or two.  I've been urging CCBC to start a ministry to newly widowed people.  Not grief counseling, as the church has that already, but where someone who has been through it calls and comes by and is just there.  

Ah well, things will sort themselves out eventually.  They always do, don't they?

Right now I'm going to head to North Richland Hills to pick up Brianna from school, then go get Bridgette from her day care, and take them to visit Elaine and her girls for a little bit.  Jessica's working and Charles doesn't get home till 7 p.m.

There might possibly be a picture or two.  ;^)

A friend had told me last weekend, I think it was, about Sprouts opening a store in the old Albertson's space at Hulen and 820.  On Monday I drove out there and saw a big sign posted, advising that applications may be made online, or will be accepted Dec. 10 and 11, from 8-5 on the Friday and 8-2 on the Saturday.

ISTM it's preferable to get in front of people, so I decided to go this morning, resume in hand.

To be greeted at the door by a man clearly stationed there to provide an unwelcome piece of information:  one is obligated to apply online first, then one is called for an interview, and so far over 4000 applications have been received online with 600 interviews having been set up.

IOW, you're too late.  He doubted anyone applying now will receive an interview.

Not only was I nonplussed and depressed to learn this, but I deeply felt for the other people who were showing up, obviously having thought along the same lines as I.

Doggone it, the sign very clearly said that applications would be accepted today and tomorrow at that location and during specified hours!  I think that really stinks, to publicly state such information then renege on it.

Stupid how much it affected me.  Found myself struggling with tears as I drove back home.  I'd really hoped I'd have a good shot at a job there, if only I could get in front of someone.

Boo.  And hoo.

Time to eat chocolate.   

Where the period between Thanksgiving and New Year's is a relentless series of one champagne-and-fancy-appetizer party after another?

And who does all this dropping-in?  If I've been urged via radio and TV to keep a particular item on hand because of all the people who are going to drop in, I've been urged to keep a dozen.

Wouldn't my friends and family be surprised were I to actually take 'em by surprise and drop in, looking expectantly around for bottles of bubbly and platters of goodies to be whipped out for my entertainment?  

Personally, I prefer some notice (to be frank, I prefer to do my own inviting, too) so as to make sure the carpet is vaccumed, the kitchen floor swept, and the litter boxes tidied up.

Drop in at your own risk.