(no subject)
Jan. 4th, 2014 02:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_rckCordelia and her best friend from school are using Facetime to talk to each other. They've been talking nearly non-stop since they got up this morning, and they talked all yesterday morning (while Cordelia's cousin was still sleeping). Doing this makes Cordelia happier about a dull day at home. I hope it will help tomorrow if we're snowed in and this friend can't come over.
Cordelia asked me, an hour or so ago, if we had any old clothes she could cut up. We tend to keep stuff that develops holes in the broom closet in case we need rags (and then we never use them), so there was some stuff I could give her. She says she plans to use the cloth for blankets for her stuffed animals. That doesn't seem like a bad use for the things too worn to pass on.
Right now, the sky is clear, and the sun's out. It doesn't look remotely like we should be expecting a storm. I hope the bad weather holds off long enough for us to run all of our errands.
I'm spending the day listening to the music I got for Christmas. I try to listen to each album at least three times so that I can identify the songs I particularly like and get a feel for the album in general.
Thursdays for the next couple of months are going to be even more miserable than usual. Cordelia's indoor soccer team will be practicing Thursdays from 6-8. The school where they'll practice is too far away to walk, so Scott will have to rush to be ready to take Cordelia to practice. He gets home late on Thursdays because of a mandatory after work meeting (which he says consists entirely of his boss yelling at everybody. Fun. Fun). I'll have to be sure to get Cordelia fed around five so that she's ready to go. Pretty much, she and I will get back from seeing the social worker and go straight into dinner preparation. Cordelia usually showers on Thursdays, so she'll end up getting to bed late, too, because it'll be eight-thirty, at best, by the time she's in the shower.
I'm not enthusiastic about indoor soccer. The team is roughly twice as large as it should be. The girls are going to be lucky to play as much as half of any given game. I'm not sure how many girls are on the floor at any given time, but it can't be more than seven (including the goalie), and I doubt it's that many. There are seventeen girls on the team.
I'm also not enthusiastic because a lot, if not all, of the games will be at Slauson's lower gym. There's no good way to get in there. The door from the outside opens on a narrow stairway that lets out on the gym floor. There's nowhere for the kids to change their boots for shoes or to wait before their game starts. The stairwell gets packed with people waiting to go in, and then the people leaving can't get out. The available seating is extremely limited, too. The bleachers run along the short side of the gym and aren't very high. It's inconvenient and claustrophobia inducing.
Cordelia asked me, an hour or so ago, if we had any old clothes she could cut up. We tend to keep stuff that develops holes in the broom closet in case we need rags (and then we never use them), so there was some stuff I could give her. She says she plans to use the cloth for blankets for her stuffed animals. That doesn't seem like a bad use for the things too worn to pass on.
Right now, the sky is clear, and the sun's out. It doesn't look remotely like we should be expecting a storm. I hope the bad weather holds off long enough for us to run all of our errands.
I'm spending the day listening to the music I got for Christmas. I try to listen to each album at least three times so that I can identify the songs I particularly like and get a feel for the album in general.
Thursdays for the next couple of months are going to be even more miserable than usual. Cordelia's indoor soccer team will be practicing Thursdays from 6-8. The school where they'll practice is too far away to walk, so Scott will have to rush to be ready to take Cordelia to practice. He gets home late on Thursdays because of a mandatory after work meeting (which he says consists entirely of his boss yelling at everybody. Fun. Fun). I'll have to be sure to get Cordelia fed around five so that she's ready to go. Pretty much, she and I will get back from seeing the social worker and go straight into dinner preparation. Cordelia usually showers on Thursdays, so she'll end up getting to bed late, too, because it'll be eight-thirty, at best, by the time she's in the shower.
I'm not enthusiastic about indoor soccer. The team is roughly twice as large as it should be. The girls are going to be lucky to play as much as half of any given game. I'm not sure how many girls are on the floor at any given time, but it can't be more than seven (including the goalie), and I doubt it's that many. There are seventeen girls on the team.
I'm also not enthusiastic because a lot, if not all, of the games will be at Slauson's lower gym. There's no good way to get in there. The door from the outside opens on a narrow stairway that lets out on the gym floor. There's nowhere for the kids to change their boots for shoes or to wait before their game starts. The stairwell gets packed with people waiting to go in, and then the people leaving can't get out. The available seating is extremely limited, too. The bleachers run along the short side of the gym and aren't very high. It's inconvenient and claustrophobia inducing.
