into the fray

And I have two more days of work lined up now. The teacher I was in for today put in for the next two as I was cooking dinner/stalking the system and I got them both. So I don't know what will happen after that but apparently there IS to be court on Friday as well, when I am supposed to take Megan to her meet. She can always get a ride with someone although Kevin is making noises about missing his annual holiday luncheon to drive her there and watch her. I have driven enough others to meets for one reason or another that I don't feel badly about missing a morning session for work, but he seems to feel that we are letting her down in some way if one of us doesn't go.

But unfortunately she is also sniffling and snuffling a lot now. The meet runs from Friday through Sunday and she has a LOT of swimming to do in that time. So we have her on vitamins, allergy pills, and airborne and we will see what happens. I suggested she go to her high school meet today just to watch or time and she did, but in retrospect I hope this was the right thing, she has homework to finish, was on her feet the whole time, and could have used that time to rest at home.

Oh, and so I did a bunch of shopping on amazon on Saturday and a bunch of stuff came today, including my 2010 Golden Retriever calendar. This is really creepy though, because we sort of feel like we keep Molly alive by getting this calendar every year, like if we don't get it one year, she will die. So this year, the mall didn't have the calendar kiosk!!! I was in a bit of a near-panic when I found the calendar on amazon. But when I opened it, I read the 'deep thought' for January and I am scared! It goes like this:

Near this Spot are deposited the Remains of one who possessed Beauty without Vanity, Strength without Insolence, Courage without Ferosity, and all the virtues of Man without his Vices. This praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery if inscribed over human Ashes, is but a just tribute to the Memory of BOATSWAIN, a DOG, who was born in Newfoundland May 1803 and died at Newstead Nov. 18, 1808. When some proud Son of Man returns to Earth, Unknown by Glory, but upheld by Birth, The sculptor’s art exhausts the pomp of woe, And storied urns record who rests below. When all is done, upon the Tomb is seen, Not what he was, but what he should have been. But the poor Dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still his Master’s own, Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone, Unhonoured falls, unnoticed all his worth, Denied in heaven the Soul he held on earth – While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven, And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven. Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour, Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power – Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust, Degraded mass of animated dust! Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat, Thy tongue hypocrisy, thy words deceit! By nature vile, ennoble but by name, Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame. Ye, who perchance behold this simple urn, Pass on – it honors none you wish to mourn. To mark a friend’s remains these stones arise; I never knew but one – and here he lies. ~ Lord Byron

Uh oh.