"Fundraising"

The boys and I walked up to Safeway.  Sitting outside on a little lounge chair was a little girl, who said the following: "Excuse me, ma'am.  Would you be interested in donating money for new uniforms?"  In exchange for what?  I was really bothered by this.  First, I already gave them money two months ago when the group was camped out at the same Safeway.  Second, this wasn't fundraising; this was panhandling.  I'm no stranger to the concept of fundraising.  I've washed cars, sold magazine subscriptions, washed more cars, and sold candy, cookies, wrapping paper, and other useless crap.  I've bought candy, cookies, cookie dough, wrapping paper, Entertainment books, and other useless crap.  I have no problem pledging money for a walk-a-thon.  I expect something in return, some action (washing my car, walking ten miles) or some tangible item (cookies, cookie dough).  Just asking strangers for money is panhandling.  Give me a lollipop or something as a token for my donation.  Plus, if they were really trying to raise money without doing anything, this is the wrong neighborhood.  Go to a wealthier area.

Sheriff of Tantrum Town

Both boys have thrown Oscar-worthy tantrums the last three days.  We did manage to have a tantrum-free time at the park this afternoon, and there were a few tantrum-free moments throughout the day.  I forget how much fun my boys are when not throwing fits.

Drake managed to charm fruit snacks from a nice lady at the park.  He's always had this talent.  When he was one, he got a complete McDonald's hashbrown out of a lady.  He got pretzels out of some guy on the ferry. He told the lady at the park all about summer camp.  He has only told me about the fire drill.

Flynn stalked a poor squirrel in downtown Olympia.  Luckily, the squirrel remembered he could climb the big tree to escape the small child.  Flynn also had a good time hitting random objects with a large stick.  Some cool sounds were discovered.

Wow...

Created by Oatmeal
 
It's really, really annoying.  (The sound, not The Oatmeal.)

Dear Washington State Motorists

Move the hell over!!!  The left lane is not for cruising; it's for passing.  It's for actively passing, not "I'm going to eventually pass that semi-truck that's three miles away" kind of passing.  It is not your God-given right to drive the speed limit in the left lane.  (God was not available for comment, but the attendance records show s/he was not present during the law writing sessions.)  And stop pacing the car next to you.  There's a reason traffic in this state is awful, and you are it.  Do you not notice the line of cars behind you?  No, no you don't.  You are oblivious.  I do applaud you for maintaining the speed limit, but, please, do so in the right lane so the rest of us with a life can get on with it.

Summer camp

Drake begins another week of summer camp tomorrow.  This week's theme: nocturnal creatures.  He's really looking forward to going.  He had a good time at the last camp.  At least, I think he had a good time.  I'm fairly certain he did, but I'm not 100% sure.  Why?  He won't tell me anything about what happened at camp, or what activities he did, or the names of anyone else in the room.  He has only given up one piece of information about that whole week.  (The theme was art.)  He told me that you squish clay in your hands to make a pancake, then you squish the pancake into a sculpture, and then the sculpture goes swooooosh.  (I don't know why artwork becomes a rocket ship, but, whatever.)  That's it.  Nothing else.  I ask him what is favorite part was, about the artists they talked about, about his own artwork.  He won't respond to me at all, like he was sworn to secrecy and his tongue will be removed if he recounts his adventures.

Yard sale

Today was the yard sale for Maria's stuff.  It's quite odd seeing the culmination of one's household on the front lawn for strangers to pick through.  I was never into garage/yard/estate sales.  When I'm looking for something specific, I want to go where I know I can find it.   Hosting one is more effort than it's worth. 

I learned two important lessons about people today. 
1) There's no accounting for taste.  Some really ugly stuff found new homes, and some nice, practical, attractive stuff is currently homeless.   
2) People who frequent these sales are really freakin' cheap.  After 1 pm, we sold everything for half price.  The $40 newish BBQ was marked down to $20.  The guy offered $18.  The propane in the BBQ is worth $40.  We sold it anyway-- one less thing to move.

I watch Clean House.  I find it entertaining.  How the hell do they make $5000 at a yard sale?  Do these people have that much crap in their homes causing the clutter?   We're lucky if we made $200 today. 

Bucket List

A college friend of mine had a bizarre fainting episode that landed him in the hospital yesterday.  As he is regaling the story from his hospital bed via Facebook, he mentioned toward the end of this tale that it is time to get serious on his bucket list.  I've been mulling this over all morning.  I don't have a bucket list. 

So, what's wrong with me that I don't have one?  I mean, I have goals, I've achieved stuff, I've accomplished things, I've seen stuff, and I've been places.  Am I just content to go through life blindly, day to day, without any sense of adventure?  Does a bucket list imply adventure?  Or is it a list of stuff I'll get around to someday?  (I have one of those lists: the mighty "honey do" list.  It's categorized.)  Am I just that lazy that I've never thought about a bucket list?  Do most people go through life this way?  I'm going to have to give this some intense scrutiny.