Still here.

Okay, y'all. I know it's been a while. But I am still here. It's truly amazing how much it's possible to really want to do something, like post to one's blog, for example, but barely be able to justify doing it because of the 12,469,823 things that all seem to be digging their sharp little claws into the flesh of one's "This HAS to Get Done" list. I went into a near-depression on Saturday afternoon, because I had spent two solid days grading papers (We just finished our first grading period, and I have to turn in grades on Thursday.) No school last Friday. Fun for my kids, fun for people who did NOT have a truckload of papers to grade. I was neither of those, so I holed up in my bedroom and graded . . . and graded . . . and graded. My schedule on Saturday? Wake up; repeat Friday's schedule. Sunday? Go to church (thank God!); follow modified Saturday schedule (because I only had half the day to work with); watch Rays beat Boston while continuing grading marathon.

Sidebar: "Worst to First" . . . Who'd've thunk it? Sounds a lot like another now-famous baseball phrase, "Reverse the Curse". I was chanting that one that year, too. Especially to Tony, who is a huge Yankees fan. That was a good year to be a sortakinda Bean Town girl. I had a mixed emotion or two Sunday night, but not much. Definitely rooting for the Rays.

Anyway, I've been busy. As Matt Willetts once said, "Busier than a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest." And now soccer has begun for Caroline. And basketball for Ellis. In addition to gymnastics for Gillian. And have I mentioned we have a church?

And I volunteered to go in the dunk tank at our school's Fall Festival on Friday.

And my class is supposed to make a pumpkin look like a book character by Friday, too. One of my students suggested the Great Pumpkin of Charlie Brown fame. On the surface, a wildly uncreative idea. But under the circumstances, brilliant. Genius. Practically anointed.

And NEXT Friday is our book character parade. Our team is doing the characters from Peter Pan. Guess who will be sportin' the tights and an enormous amount of green felt? Uh huh.

And now Caroline is searching for her shin guards, and I have no clue where they are. Alas, I must sign off, find the blessed things, pack up my bag'o'work and foldable spectator chair, pile the kiddies into the van and head to the field.

It's a good life. A little nuts, but very, very good.