Finally Home Friday

Stayed late at work to do special ed. paperwork. It's that time of year when IEP's (Individual Educational Plans) have to be updated. Much thought and creativity has to go into them, and it can't be done when the kids are there. NY State is very different than NJ, where they have consultants testing students and writing IEP's. All we did was help the kids in the classroom. It's been an adjustment. But it's a relief not to hear from my supervisor that I'm assigned to a college prep chemistry class and I have to help students with their chemistry! So glad it's Friday. Got home just as it was getting dark and the wind was really whipping up. First thing I did after taking doggies out was to bring Billy Goat a warm bottle up to the hay mow. Today is the first he's spent all day outside of the apartment. He yelled when he heard my voice, and more when I climbed back down the ladder. It was tough to leave him looking down at me, and not bring him back in the house, but he has to learn how to be a goat. I've been worried about him chewing on wires and plastics in the house. After chores and lentil soup I plan on spending the night with the Olympics. I'm excited about seeing Bode Miller ski again, and the half-pipe girls, and maybe seeing Evan L.'s routine. I sleep on the sofa to get the coverage, and only wake up to see sporadic portions. Not a good night's sleep, but I had to miss it all day long. I enjoy the interviews about what the athletes do in their private lives and the philanthropic work they do. Wouldn't it be nice if Lindsey wins another medal tomorrow, and Anja gets on the podium with her pretty Swedish colors. I like Julia's tiara and think she has a lot of spunk. I can only dream about the guts all those women have. I actually did some amateur ski racing many years ago (I know, I know, I used to be skinny and strong). Remember Nastar (not to be confused with NasCAR) racing? I wonder if they still do it. Anyway, the slopes of Vermont are often just like Vancouver, with hard nice underneath a whisper of snow. Your skis chatter and vibrate and without razor sharp edges to carve your turns you are dead. Yard sale. In those days the snowboarders could only ski on a small part of the slope because they scraped off what little snow we had. We would sneer and snicker and make faces at them from the chair lift. Look at them now! They own the slopes! I fell a lot and have a bum left knee for it, but it was so much fun. Have to find those pictures of me in my pinny. Maybe I can get Gretchen to scan it and post it for a laugh. Out to chores so I can get back in before the coverage starts.