All Is Quiet - Then the Sprinklers Come On - Then Go Off

Well, the reporter meeting was a bit of a flop. We all gathered at Johnny Carino's, eager to catch any words of wisdom dropping like the gems of the fairy-touched stepdaughter from the lips of seasoned court reporters. No one showed up. Well, one of our teachers did; she's been a court reporter, but she hasn't worked this last year. She didn't talk about reporting -- she does enough of that in class.

There were about 13 or 14 students, though, so it was a success as a social function. When I got there they had swing music playing, so I got up and taught Donna a bit of swing dancing. I really don't know much, but she thought it was fun.

One of the male students showed up, and the husband of another girl in my class, so we had their input on our discussions. They were both rather quiet; for some reason, our conversation seemed to revolve around weddings. I kept my mouth shut, not having any experience in that line.

I only stayed for about an hour and a half. I ate my calamari, and when a few of the other girls started to consider going out for more drinks (they had beer with dinner) I bowed out. Not that I wouldn't like to socialize, but I just reached legal drinking age in January, have never gone out for drinks, had to drive 20 miles home, and just didn't feel that they were a very responsible group to hang with right then.

On the way home I sang rock and roll, and then country. Songs about lost love, current love, ever-after love, and, finally, love me or else.

I saw a neighbor watering flowers in her yard, and since I haven't seen her lately I stopped to talk. Louise turned 94 on August 19 or 11, I can't remember for sure. August, anyway. She likes to talk to me; sometimes I have a hard time tearing myself away. I turned off the water for her and walked her back to her house, and she told me what had been going on in her life. It's kind of rambling, especially in the order she told it, but interesting.

Louise (approximated):
I just turned 94.
Isn't it awful how quickly those young people drive? There's one guy who goes past here at 100 miles per hour all the time. They should catch him. He goes by at about 60 miles per hour, and you can't even see who it is.
There's a lady who walks her dog in front of my house every day. She's about 40, but she looks like she's 20. She walks her dog past every night, and young men try to pick her up. She's a grandmother! She doesn't look it. You can see why they'd try to pick her up. (I saw her while we were talking -- she is in excellent shape.) She got permission to carry a gun from a friend of her's who's a policeman. Her dog is just medium sized. (I asked.)
I was real nervous yesterday. I had a hard week. I went and took my driving test. Now I have a license for one year.
I had a real hard time. I was getting in the car, and the key just broke off in the lock. The metal part was stuck in the door. My friend got it out for me. She brought me some spuds from her garden. (How did she get it out?) She just used a sharp knife. I thank the Lord she was walking her dog, because I didn't know what to do. I had to take my driving test, and this happened! She's a good friend.
It's hard to take that test. Especially with that man there in the car with you. He watches every move you make.
See the key, where it broke? I don't use the car much. It's an old car.
(End)

I like Louise. She uses a walker now. She can get around with a cane, but she has a fear of falling and not being found. A pretty viable fear, I think. That's by no means our whole conversation. I weeded it down to the story about the key.

My mother is still fighting with the educational system to let my sister play soccer. We had a law passed last year or so that basically said that any student who is 'fully enrolled' in the public school system has preference in any class/team/event sponsored by the public school system. So, because there were 36 spots on the team, but 38 public school students tried out, Starry-eyes doesn't even get to try out for the team. They automatically filled all the spots required by 'fully enrolled' students, regardless of aptitude. More on this later.

For now, I'd better go to bed. It's a prep day at school tomorrow -- no classes. Three cheers for sleeping in -- but I have a headache, so no exclamation marks after them. Whisper.

'night, all.