My left cheekbone caught the pointy end of a football today at work. The force of it knocked me a whack and for a moment or two made me stop still and weave as I stood, talking to Naughty Nathan, who had grabbed another third grader by the head to get him to play with him. The football was launched like a rocket by Little Kyle, who was about eight feet away from me and who in the words of his mother, "has quite an arm." Chris works with me and saw the whole thing happen, horror on her face as she realized that it was her little boy who'd done the deed. If I have to be completely honest--do I? even with this headache and big scuff on my face?--I was standing in a place where I normally know better than to stay still. It's just a matter of time. You're going to catch it somewhere if you stand there. She rushed the dumbstruck boy up to apologize, but what was there to say? "It's fine. Bound to happen sometime."

But with a list of things I had planned to do abandoned this afternoon, I'm home with a headache and a stiff neck. And a sore sore sore cheek.

I would like someone to put a pillow beneath my achey head and make me a cup of tea. That's right--tea, not coffee, because after all, I am recuperating from quite a blow.

(I do not wear a helmet at work.)

My fellow Wisconsin-ites,

I thank you for the confidence you've shown in electing me (cheers from the audience) and am eager to serve you as Governor of our great state.

(Wild cheers)

Truly Wisconsin is a great state--a state that works hard and takes care of our families, even in the face of hardships.  We do not shrink from duty, no matter how Herculean is our task.

(Self-congratulatory cheers)

The deadly frigid winter which carves our character into hardy strength has been driven back by your fervently supporting me.  The snow of last week has seen the need for change; today it's 66 degrees out and the sun is shining brighter than our future.

As my first official act--

(Expectant silence falls)

Schools are closed and every worker in the state has the day off, with triple pay! 

(Jubillant chaos fills the room, a triumphant Sousa march rises, confetti drops, and I am declared the best governor ever.)

Yeah.  That would be great.  Maybe I'll even run for office next time.

Winds have blown in warm air that our skin is not used to feeling at this time of year.   Last month a thin layer of snow and frost coated the outdoors and yesterday I wore short sleeves as I cleared flowerbeds and strolled the playground at work and I was very comfortable.  The sweet temperature was a freak-of-nature treat; one could not expect it to last, but it has stayed for one day more.  For once no one is complaining about the weather, which is the main stuff of polite conversation in these parts from late October through the middle of March.

The playground today will be a treat.  Parents who just managed to pack away their children's summer shorts and tee shirts will have been nagged relentlessly since 3:30 yesterday afternoon and kids knees will have one more shot of sunshine before they retreat to needed cover of blue denim and twill.  Heavier fall footwear will be left under the bed and bright flipflops and sandals will take one more romp.  The kids will play the way they do in summer when school is the last thing on their minds.

I love suprise package days like today, love the party mood out there with the kids.  I love it almost enough to be there for it, but I've taken the day off of work to finish up yardwork while I can.  Winter can only be held at bay for so long and then it will be here and hold firm.  It will be too late for warm weather endeavors; one must grab a day like today and use it for all it's worth.

November days certainly are long, considering how short they are.

I've cleaned, cooked, shopped for bedding, shopped for food, picked up my neices and nephew, took them to lunch, did some kitty-socializing and general shelter laundry with my fellow animal shelter volunteer young Tilly, ran a couple of other errands on the way home, and have made snacks for tonight and started dinner.

I'm perfectly willing to call the day over at this point, but the young people are just starting to hit their stride.  Parker has been at the state football semi final game all day and his bus should be pulling into the school parking lot as I write this.  The evening plans call for general teenager merriment late into the night, with rides provided for girlfriend Mallory, whose parents don't like leaving home in the evening to drop her off or pick her up.  Understandable.  I don't like leaving home in the evening to pick her up or drop her off either.

It's potato peeling time.  Any volunteers?

Parker's much beloved girlfriend Mallory is distraught.   Yesterday she got a surprise from her parents--they are moving one thousand miles east by the first of the year and they are taking her with them.  She is as happy to leave her friends and life just about as much as most fifteen year olds would be.  Her parents, on the other hand are grinning about it, she reports.  Parker is in a mood to match his black Gothgear and I have only sympathy for the both of them.

My nieces and nephews, on the other hand, showed no sign of worry during the weekend they spent with me.  They ate heartily, they visited cheerily, they played video games intensely and slept like little lambs.  Only after I took them home Sunday night and came back to my own house did I learn--by the most freakishly random accident of telephone message giving-- did I learn that the mother with whom they live had been taken away by "a bunch of guys" on Friday night and that they haven't have a clue the entire time since then where exactly their mother is. 

I've been on the phone and have been lucky enough to have someone tell me what she shouldn't have--where the mother is and why.  I have now been cast upon the heap of bad aunties because I did not keep their abandoned state secret.  I don't know how all of this will end;  the children might have their lives disrupted so that they can have reliable care until they are old enough to take care of themselves or it might be decided that they can get by in the place where they now are.  A year or two ago I would have swept in to rescue the bunch, but I've learned that the problem is not going to disappear through goodwilled swooping.  I'm hoping that a realistic solution can be found.

I've been somewhat mired down in re-examining the choices I've made in my life.  I've pretty much stayed in one place and let a lot (and maybe too much) go while I raised my children.  Three of them are adults now, but Parker is still supervised at a level based upon his behavior instead of his age and I find that I am still confined to home more than I wish I were so that he and Mallory don't find themselves too happy for a little while and too bogged down for much, much longer.  As I said, the choices are made but I look back at them and think I made some valiant and foolish decisions.

Today with Mallory devastated by her parents' choice and my neices and nephew locked in stoic waiting, I think I made the right choices. 

I heard the phone hit the floor last night when Parker too-eagerly snatched it to hear Mallory coo her nightly sleepwells to him, but thought it was no worse than the usual nightly crash.

I was wrong.  I'm phone-less today, the connecting doohicky yanked asunder, perhaps snapping a hair-fine, but highly significant wire within. but still looking mostly no worse than usual.  If this posts, the internet still links me with the outside world--thank God!--but the good friend I was to breakfast with is off dining upon exquisite delicacies in my absence while I sit here with a pitifully small heap of Teddy Grahams for my breakfast.  She couldn't reach me by phone this morning, you see, and went off without me.  I'm lucky to have the Teddy Grahams at all--Parker and Mallory must have missed them in their daily mission to eat me out of house and home.

Missing my lovely breakfast out  means that I'll have more time for housework before going off to the job today.

There's no end to the iniquity here.