3am Post-Surgery Shenanigans

Everyone said the first week after surgery would be the hardest. I don't know yet if that is true, as I've only just crested the 1.5 week mark, but I wouldn't be mad about it if the hardest days were behind me! I'm happily through the part where around the clock pain management is necessary. I'm happy about that because days 2-3 I could hardly even keep my eyes open. Now there is pain, but it's different than I thought it would be. It's a deep uncomfortableness that, yes, still needs some pain management, but not like the first several days. The nights are definitely the toughest. It is so difficult to get comfortable, and my muscles aren't all firing up again, so I get easily tangled in sheets and pillows, and it's close to impossible to maneuver around.  The hardest moments from surgery, and probably 90% of the tears, have been at night. 

For the first week, my mom slept in my guest room, which you might also recognize as my living room couch, so she could help me in the middle of the night. She's an actual saint. I can get in and out of bed on my own, but getting the pillows just right, getting new ice packs, and getting the right meds was out of my wheelhouse a few days ago. 

On one of these nights, I was endeavoring to get out of bed to use the bathroom on my own. Winnie and Lanny have approved "spots" on the bed. Winnie is allowed to sleep almost anywhere on the left side, because while she has a challenging personality, she is a good sleeper. Lanny can sleep on my right side near my shoulder, or not on the bed at all. He still doesn't understand feet. You're not a kitten dude! Pouncing on feet is NOT cool. I usually build a small pillow fence around my feet for reinforcement. Oh the joys of being owned by cats. 

Back to the night in question. I sat up, and Winnie moved down to the end of the bed. Normally, that's no big deal, as one can bend your legs to get out of bed. But you know, that's not happening! I gave the obligatory "Here we go!" which is 99% effective in getting Winnie to move. She didn't budge an inch. I pulled the covers up, creating some tension under her, and gave a stern: "Winnie Foster!" Nothing. She has an iron will, that one. This went on for several minutes, this begging and pleading with Ms Foster. As I'd been sitting up with my legs pinned under the blankets Winnie was holding hostage, pressure began to build in places that was not cool on my leg. I desperately needed to move. 

I grabbed Ivy, an adorable stuffed otter I got at the Monterey Aquarium last year, and start swinging her around like I was trying to get a bludger in a Quidditch match. I couldn't quite reach Winnie, but she saw what was happening as Ivy swung closer and closer to her. At this point I was crying, and yelling "Move!" as I was wielding the otter around. Winnie was definitely scared, but also starting to bob and weave and defend her spot on the bed. 

Just before Sarah McLachlan and the ASPCA film crew showed up, my mom walked in, likely awakened by the ruckus. Winnie turned her attention from the feral otter to the new, approaching, adversary, and starting hissing and spitting. At that point Ivy the otter made contact with the back of Winnie Foster, and Winnie split for the kitchen.  Mom unwound me from the covers, and then headed to the bathroom. Of course I felt terrible, and called Winnie, who came trotting and purring back in the room. She gave Ivy a wide berth, but hopped back on the bed. Oh to be loved by a cat. And then ice, drugs, some water, and I slept for another hour and a half. 

At this writing, it's after 1am, and I'm thinking about wandering back into my room.  I know sleep will come again soon, and Winnie, apparently is confident that I will not always be a raving lunatic in the middle of the night.  And so, week one is done! 

Love It or List It

No, we're not moving. But isn't this a great blog title? Recently I got a new laptop, and while combing through files and folders to transfer, I stumbled across a folder called "remodel". After nine years of remodel projects, big and small, it's easy to forget what this place looked like originally. 

While the entire house needed updating, my living space had some of the weirdest features, and lacked a kitchen and usable bathroom.  We didn't love this house when we bought it, but we loved the idea of it. Like all homes on the North Coast that aren't new construction, it's a hodgepodge of "unique" design.  It didn't have the rampant wood paneling that was so popular here at one point, but it had plenty of other "are you kidding me?" details. We fell in love with the street, this end of the beach, and then lucked out with amazing neighbors.

The first remodeling in my space took place that first year, and the last of it during covid. So its been a beat! Covid didn't seem like the right time to share, and then, let's be honest, I realized there was too much clutter to take good pictures. In theory it would take me just a few minutes to clean off my nightstand, but I've just worked around that. ;) Here come the before and after pics! 

Library: The first thing we did was enclose one of the garages to create an extra room. I actually don't even remember it being a garage. We never parked in it. Its first purpose was to hold as many of our moving boxes as possible, and then after we enclosed it, its intended purpose was a craft room/library/office space. It made a fine covid classroom, and most recently the aircraft carrier of a table we have has been the perfect place to pile E V E R Y T H I N G I own.  Working on fixing that! Well, I'm blogging and watching tv, but it's on the list! 

Before: Umm... I forgot our house used to be white! Now it's cedar shake with turquoise siding.

Oh! My little bug!

The garage on the right is the one in question.

That brown paint used to be ALL over!

After: There have been many iterations of this space. Currently we are in the process of taking the big table out, and going with something smaller and more functional. But the books will stay!

Bookshelves!

The first (second?) version of this room had an exposed ceiling that I really loved. 

And while the exposed beams were beautiful, look at this lighting!

I had the best zoom background with all my books!

And the aircraft carrier table was perfect to hold ALL my classroom stuff during covid. I don't know where Winnie is...She was a CONSTANT zoom companion.

Bedroom: I think this was the next project. Or maybe this came before the garage? It was early on because while I could have slept in this bedroom, the bathroom (next) was truly ghastly. I lived in a variety of places while this was happening - the now kitchen, a trailer, and ultimately Seaside. 

Before: These photos are from the realtor site. As you know, I LOVE the color pink. This color is not that. It still gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Everyone wants a tile/carpet combo in their bedroom, right?

After: The kitchen is gone, and so are the shutters. I have pink curtains in their place (and blackout blinds, obviously!). There is also a closet on the opposite wall, a gorgeous turquoise mirror on the bathroom wall, and pink trunks at the end of my bed. But photographing that would take some declutter that I'm not up for right now. In that spirit, DO NOT look at my nightstand. ;)

I love the light fixture!

I bought three Sarah Goodnough prints YEARS ago (15?), and finally got them framed.
 (Hangin' Custom Framing in Hillsboro if you need a spot. She did an amazing job with all of them.)

Bathroom: EGADS! The fact that I wanted to live here,  even after seeing the bathroom, speaks volumes about this beach. 

Before: This realtor pic does not fully describe the horrors. For one, the wall texture was inches thick in places. I got my hair tangled in it one day trying to put hair gel in. Gross. The shower I still don't fully understand. The shower head came out of the wall below my shoulders. It was like Cirque du Soleil trying to wash my hair. The padded toilet seat just added to the overall charm. There is only one picture, and I'm surprised I even kept that!

A particularly traumatizing part of this remodel was when the plumbing for the bathtub went in backwards. "Do you want us to fix is?" Um, ya. Our second contractor, Shelton Builders, was awesome. If you're local and need someone -- call them! The first contractor is referred to in our household as "he who shall not be named"...

After: Winnie's favorite place to be is the bathroom (???), and while that is weird, I will say that it is a particularly lovely room. I still am in love with all the design elements I picked out. It's gorgeous, if I do say so myself. Just like you ignored the nightstand, ignore the burned out lightbulbs! I'm having trouble, apparently, buying six that all match in color and brightness. 

Bathtub shopping!

I can't live without a bathtub!

I still love the tile so much!

Yes, she has her own bath math. It at least confines her to one spot. Mostly.

I got this lovely mermaid at Warehouse 10 in Rockaway Beach and the yellow case at IKEA. The case is now full, and while mostly organized, it's not picture perfect with toilet paper and Tylenol and more lipstick than I want you to know I have. ;)

Kitchen: Okay, maybe the bathroom isn't completely my favorite... The kitchen is pretty great too. The kitchen speaks to who I am, which is why I love it. I always want to want the chic and simple things that people might describe as timeless. I find that aesthetic beautiful, and yet...even as a little kid, I couldn't quite go with the flow, or blend in with the crowd. I do love personal expression, and since this is my kitchen, I chose exactly what I wanted! It's exhilarating - try it!

Before: Oof. There's a lot of before! When we moved in, it was a utility room. At one point it was my bedroom (those were dark times - no photos of that!), it has always been our laundry room, and we made a pretty close to full-functioning kitchen out of it as well.  But it was a very uninspiring room, and more of a bandaid than an actual kitchen. 

Oh, my heart: Miss Molly. And apparently most of my moving boxes.

Kitchenette #1: repurposed shelving system, that almost worked. 

I was certain that painting the cupboards would help. I don't think you can see the knobs, but they were glass owls. Cute! 

At first I thought the best way to hide the utility panels was to lean into the gray. I was wrong! That was like living on an aircraft carrier.

We got cabinets at Home Depot, and that gave me the best version of this kitchen.  Don't the washer and dryer, and the hot water heater really added to the ambiance?

And then I was sure it was green. Or maybe cranberry paint. Or possibly both?

Oh the covid delays! But this was the most hopeful "before"!

After: One of the covid silver linings was that I really got into cooking. Remember early on when we wondered if it was safe to even go to the grocery store? (The answer is yes it was, and we were all sure it was no!). Anyway, I got into Marley Spoon meal boxes. I have a long history of assembling food, not really cooking it. My mom is a good cook, but it comes really naturally to her. I was terrified of basically all meats, and had tastes in food that far exceeded the Costco deli offerings. Anyway, my kitchen was finished several months into covid, and I signed up for MS, and somehow became a cook! I LOVE to cook. I know that it would never have happened like that if I hadn't loved to be in my kitchen. This is one space I am so thankful for. And it's not modern chic, or of the coastal style; this is 100% Erica. :) 

One construction pic because it's one of my favorites. Winnie Foster is SO cute. But she has A LOT of opinions on A LOT of things. Look at the side eye she's giving me here!

I had to have the black and white floor. I know it screams 50s diner to some people, but it's also the flooring in Westminster Abbey. I mean, mine is vinyl, but it's the look, right?

And yes, I painted this kitchen pink! It's actually two different shades - I'm all about the subtlety. Ha! I wish there was a better picture of the countertop. It's a beautiful white, with gray, think lines of black  and a hint of sparkle. 

Since this picture was taken I've added a Barbara Lavallee print that hangs just under the ventilator. The knobs and pulls are rose gold except for the three to the left of the oven. Those three are white mermaids. 

The pantry (large doors on the right) are just the bees knees! They have pull out shallow drawers instead of shelves, which means you can actually see the stuff way in the back! It's the little things. :)

Hallway: I mean, usually one doesn't mention things like hallways, or laundry rooms. We have one by the way, laundry rooms. It's a nice green, and the best part is it's separate from my kitchen! ;) But I happen to LOVE the wallpaper on the doors of my hall, so it's worth including. 

Before: Ugh! That brown was so pervasive! (Dad's photobombing in the back!)

After: Peel and stick wallpaper worked really well on these flat, non-painted doors. Isn't it whimsical and fun? (And yes, this is taken from the opposite side of the hall. But who has pictures of hallways?)

Living Room: Which leaves us with the pièce de résistance which is the living room! I leave this for the last because while we made a kitchen out of an empty room, and a library out of a garage, we had to make a living room out of...a truly horrible living room. It's the biggest transformation to me. Remodeling is 

H A R D, and there were so many setbacks and difficult times. But it WAS all worth it, this space especially.  

Before: Egads. Putting lipstick on a pig is the most appropriate phrase I can think of to explain the bandaids that were put on this room. 

I saw this, and was like, "Yes - let's move here!" 🤣 I don't think you can really see the nastiness of the shag carpet. Used to be white...🤮

My boxy furniture was a hard squeeze in this long rectangle of a room.

This piece of furniture, and the built in step it's on, were SO challenging to remove. It was glued to the wall in several places, and was mounted on a stair. Yes, a random stair that served no actual purpose. Arg!

The drop ceiling served as a cover for all the piping in the house, But it was SO low. Not to mention the enormous HVAC pipe running along the side. 

And the fluorescent lights! The shag carpet was replaced with vinyl plank. Which I hated... Oops. I didn't like the way it felt on my feet, and hated the sound the cat's claws made as they scurried around.

This was the best before version. Drop ceiling gone, lights strung as a distraction, and my beautiful carpet in!

After: So many improvements were made: carpet, fireplace, wallpaper, couch, paint, blinds... It's gorgeous, cozy, and I love spending time in here!

The bricks were white, but I painted them a soft gold. It adds a bit of lux and warmth to the room. There were many wallpaper samples, and I'm so happy I went with this one! It's a bold print, but it's only in small spots on the end two walls so it works and still allows for some decorative freedom in accessories. 

The soffit solution to the piping in the ceiling turned out beautifully. I think it looks like a design element and not a functional solution. I've since swapped the couch out, but it's basically the same idea, just more comfortable. I like looking at this photo and the realtor photo side by side. It's a real wow factor!

So that's it! My house is finally a home. Remodeling is not for the faint of heart. I can't think of another place I have lived where I would go through this process instead of just moving. But this street, this stretch of the beach is truly magical. The air is a little fuller than in the north end of town, and in the summer there's a magical pastel haze. I'm so thankful that my parents helped make this a priority so I have this amazing place to live in.  Their space needs updating too, and hopefully that's the next (and last!!) remodel blog we'll have. 

❤

Fred and Ted

 I spent the week with my new small friend

Her parents went on a looooooong weekend

Well, it was more than that, but as you can see

I’m trying to rhyme for the sake of this story.

I’ve read a lot of books this week

About bears, giraffes, and things with beaks.

Little Blue Truck is my favorite so far

It’s about helping someone out, no matter who they are.

Most of these books talk only in rhyme

So I’m making that my personal pastime.

It also seems to be toddler speak

Which is a whole other language of much mystique.

There is an overuse of the word “no”

And so much gobbledygook that I can’t yet know.

There are also lots and lots of giggles

Snuggles, and hops, singing and wiggles

Raffi has taken over my Apple Music songs

And now the recommendations are coming up, just wrong!

Although I will say, with just a slight groan,

That I do a mean version of Bananaphone.

Dino nuggets go good on Cesar salad

“Frozen”, hear me out!, has a really good ballad.

Caffeine is more than essential for me

Coffee, coffee, and a baby coke (or three!)

The technology of this adventure has been quite tricky

I’ve been bested by a high chair, baby monitor and another doohickey.

Not to mention drawers and cupboards

But those baby gates, I have them covered!

Mostly this week I had a new BFF

Who thinks I’m funny and quite a good chef.

I’m sure tomorrow there will be toddler withdrawal

But….first I’m going to sleep, maybe until nightfall. 

♡

The Laundry Incident

Well, I have finally calmed down. It might surprise people to know that I am…psychotic? when it comes to laundry. Actually, if you had the misfortune of living with me in college, I think you probably have PTSD from it. Especially Akili; my apologies. I adopted laundry rage at an early age. I think it was before 5th grade that I started doing my own laundry. What? I’m a parent’s dream, right?  Probably not. I was pretty sure that my mom was ruining my clothes. I’m 100% sure, now, that our machines were old and rusty. Be that as it may, I’m VERY particular about how my clothes are washed, what products are purchased, how things are dried, and basically E V E R Y T H I N G about laundry. Yes, my family is receiving counseling and gifts to help them cope. I believe something in a dark rum is preferred. But then again, I know my alcohol like I know my swearing. Which leads me back to calming down. 

I stroll in from a Monday at work to find the horror of all horrors awaiting me in our communal laundry space. Steam was literally rolling out of my ears. At moments like these I want to be Jack Nicholson in “A Few Good Men”. You know the line I’m talking about? No, not that one. That one was Tom Cruise. Everyone can handle the truth about the laundry — I am the queen of it. I’m talking about when Colonel Nathan R Jessup shouts from the stand: You’ve 🤬ed with the wrong marine!!! If I ever take up swearing, I’m totally doing that one. I think it in my head occasionally (with the bleep, obviously).  Sometimes in 5th grade you have to remember your own power, and take the reins back. (PS That day was recently called Friday.)  So, I didn’t say those words during the laundry incident, but I did make two phone calls, file a grievance, and start an inquisition. But oh how hilarious it would have been if I had uttered those words!

Before Colonel Jessup, my first swear crush was Blanche Devereaux. Rue McClanahan was so sassy and sophisticated as a Southern belle of sorts in Golden Girls. “Damn straight” she would say. That seemed so scandalous and risqué. But she also said it so effortlessly - it just rolled off the tongue. I think I worked on integrating that into a conversation for at least a decade.

Um, is anyone else seeing this?  Rue McClanahan? Jack Nicholson! My swearing heroes are twice my age. Or dead. Bloody hell. Obviously that one’s from Harry Potter, so does that even it all out? Ha!

In summary, as this 5th grade teacher does, I did not swear at anyone, or shout funny movie quotes with expletives in them. I simply explained that this was not how I expected laundry to go in my absence. I think it was clear.  You might even say it was “crystal clear”. (Do you see what I did there? Ha!).

If you, or anyone you know, is living with a classroom teacher, you’re not alone.  Help is available. 

Peeing on a Plane

In January of 1998, I finished college with my final credit: guitar. No, I don’t play. Took it pass/fail, and somehow passed! I came home, and after subbing a handful of days in a private school in my neighborhood, my mom and I set off on one of our grandest adventures. We took a Rick Steves tour and traveled Italy for a month, returning just in time for graduation. It was an amazing trip. We had so much fun together, drank quite a bit of wine, and saw everything on my art history bucket list: Sistine Chapel, the David, Giotto’s frescoes, Byzantine mosaics…I could go on and on. ☺️

If you’ve ever been on a tour, you know that there are packing restrictions as far as how much and what to bring. For instance, I brought one pair of shoes. Yeah, you heard me. I survived (barely) on one pair of shoes for a month! (I’m making up for it this trip. I refuse to say how many pairs I brought…😂). They were a closed toe Teva that was comfortable like the water sandal, but looked nice enough for a dress. 

So after four weeks of traveling, we headed home on British Airways. It was a looooong flight, and we weren’t able to sit together. Midway through the flight I headed for the restroom. After a month of questionable toileting, I entered the black hole with confidence. I’m squatting, minding my own business, when BAM! Turbulence. Lots of turbulence. I got thrown around the pint sized bathroom  like I was laundry on spin cycle. In case your mind hasn’t already gone there, let me tell you what happens when liquid finds a nice new path on a dry surface. Yup, it sticks to that new path with a vengeance. 

And so, there I was, in the bathroom, my shoes filled with my own urine. I mean, I did a decent clean up job, but it’s not like there’s room to take off your shoes and wash your feet in there. I squished and slushed with every step as I drug myself back to my seat. Remember, we’re not sitting together, so A, my travel partner didn’t really know that I had been missing all that long, and B, was not picking up the nuanced hand signals I had was putting down.  The rest of the flight went by very slowly, and I ended the humiliation by catching the attention of not one, but two dogs in the immigration/passport area. Sure, they are trained too sniff for explosives, drugs, whatever, but these dogs were pretty interested in the strong urine smell I was emitting from my shoes. Leather was still damp. 

So I don’t pee on planes! That’s the bottom line. I mean, obviously you cannot hold fast and true to that rule, but on anything shorter than Europe, I do my best. On our flight from Portland to Honolulu on Tuesday, I was really pacing my fluid intake. The captain came on and said that we had one hour and fifty minutes left, and that they were going to be bumpy minutes. I get motion sick, so that freaked me out, so I begrudgingly decided to go to the bathroom so I didn’t have to worry about peeing AND puking. 

The open bathroom had toilet paper all over the floor. ALL over the floor. But I thought - whatever, just forge ahead.  I finish my business, do not get sucked out to space when the toilet flushes, and get outta dodge. I’m five, maybe six rows on my way back to my seat when I hear someone talking in my direction. I turn around to se a flight attendant putting on rubber gloves and motioning to me. Another one pops up behind and inquires if there’s a puker. I turned in a little circle looking for whomever they were talking to. That’s when he pointed to the ground. I was marching back to my seat with ALL the toilet paper from the bathroom behind me, sort of like a wedding veil. It went down the aisle, back to the bathroom, and under the door. Oh, and was currently making  a little ball in the aisle while I turned in circle. It had to have been at lest 10 feet of TP! The flight attendant, of course, was so kind. He grabbed all toilet paper, and then washed  my shoe (awkwardly since I was still wearing it, but washed it all the same.). A third flight attendant arrived on the scene and declared that I shouldn’t be embarrassed, that it happens all the time. Hm.  I mean, I fly several times a year, and I’ve never seen that happen! Pretty sure I would remember. 

I didn’t die of embarrassment, didn’t puke because of the turbulence, but did enjoy a fruity beverage when we were back on land! Now we're in Hawaii, and such folly is, mostly, behind me. But I am planning a day of dehydration for the plane ride back! 😜

Aloha.🌺

The New Mrs Kravitz

My dad offered this morning, after he was the last one up at 7:20am,  that I might be the next generation of Mrs Kravtiz. You know Mrs Kravtiz, the lovely busybody from the Bewitched series who was always looking out her window and spying on the neighbors?

I think the difference between Mrs Kravitz and me might be the part where after looking out the window, I marched myself down the street to check things out. 

It’s the first day of Thanksgiving vacation, and Lord knows I’ve earned it! I mean who hasn’t? I don’t care what you do, if you have days off coming up, whether it’s one or (cough, cough) three + a weekend, you need them! So at 6:40am, when I was rudely awaked by a terrible noise, I was, shall we say, annoyed. At first I thought my sound machine or heater was malfunctioning. And then, as I normally do, I instantly decided it must be my Dad or Tucker (little cat with big feet).  I heard my mom start the coffee maker and wandered upstairs. She had also been blown out of bed. And then we heard the sound again! I bolted out the front door in my PJs, and stood on my tippy toes to see over the hedge. Definitely machinery. Have I mentioned it’s before 7am? Is their power out? Is there some sort of an emergency?

As you know, my mom is a lovely person, and was just going to make coffee, and move on with the day.  Me?  I threw a raincoat on over my pajamas, jammed my feet into my rain boots (yellow ankle boots if you want the imagery) and stalked on down the street. 

I can’t imagine there is one of you here that doesn’t know that I don’t do mornings. I function better on an amount of sleep I don’t get during the week, and am better an hour or so after I’ve had coffee. But…I tend to bolt out of bed, get ready in 12-15 minutes and get coffee on the way to school.  My students are very well versed in the importance of caffeine; my camp name is Coffee Bean. I say this all for you to understand that I was undercaffeinated and up waaaaaaaay earlier than I wanted to be.

Even with my house on the other side of the street, I found a large semi with something tied down at the back. It was still dusk, so I wasn’t quite sure what it was. Semi was running, but empty. Chug, chug, chug. And then I heard another loud sound I recognized from my slumber, and turned to see a forklift coming down the road that runs parallel to ours. Even sleep and caffeine deprived, I was able to put the pieces together. After he dumped his load and was heading back to the truck, he saw me and tried to give me a wide berth by moving to the other side of the road. I imagine he sighed when I flagged him down.  

I don’t know how the conversation started, but the middle section went like this:

Me: It’s before 7 o’clock.

Man driving forklift: So?

“So?” Um, WHAT? Deep breath in, deep breath out. He’s not a 5th grader, he’s not a 5th grader, he’s not a 5th grader. “But why does he sound like a 5th grader?” the tiny voice in my head asked.

Teacher and parent people, the “so” is just mind numbing isn’t it? We both know what we’re talking about, so the rebuttal of “so?” just tells me how uninterested in this conversation you are, which really just ramps up my interest in explaining it. 

So?

“Well, sir, this is a neighborhood, and many of us were sleeping. I’m a 5th grade teacher on vacation. Yesterday I put out three canisters of glitter.  Blue, green, and multi.  It’s all multi now. When I flossed last night, as piece of red popped out from between my teeth. It’s literally e v e r y w h e r e. My students made parade animals out of balloons for a STEM challenge. Approximately 43 of them popped, so I’m a little jumpy. We had a turkey trot, but it was pouring rain, so the kids couldn’t walk up to the track. Roughly 600 students were running and screaming past my window (which, yes, I’m thankful to have). After recess I was informed that one of my students was stuck on the tire swing and couldn’t get off. His strategy was to lick the other student who was pushing said tire swing. That was A LOT to unpack. To top it off, I ended my day at Safeway, where I had a mini panic attack about the mount of germs flying around and gave myself a  sponge bath with the hand sanitizer at check-out. So….I was hoping for just a smidge more sleep today.” 

He got off his forklift, gave a deep bow in the middle of the street, and produced two QFC sprinkle donuts and a cranberry mimosa. 

Just kidding. There were definitely no donuts and mimosas (but this is a great  strategy if your job is delivering pre-dawn sod!), but I also didn’t unload on this poor man. I did say the first part, about it being a neighborhood, and he gave me a snarky response back about the amount of deliveries he had and blah, blah, blah. Maybe I’ll look up the city code later, maybe I’ll let it go. For now, I think I’m going to crawl back in bed, and try and get some more sleep.  I have ear plugs in now though, because construction has ramped up across the street on one of two new houses. I am hoping for their sake that they don’t turn their music on loud. I have an earbud speech locked and loaded!

Moral of the story, don’t mess with Mrs Kravitz, especially if she is a teacher on break. 

PS The Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade STEM challenge was SUPER fun, even though we did lose a couple balloons along the way. ;) Teacher people, there are tons of resources and projects - check it out for next year!

https://www.macys.com/social/parade/