We filled out our census this week.  I let the ladies fill in their lines.  Jane got her two backwards.  Twice.  In the old censuses, I am thinking of late 1800s England, they asked you what you did for a living.  The children were all called “scholar” which sounds kind of smart, although I don’t know what else you would call it.  Student, I guess.

I watched a show about eating healthy tonight, some celebrity chef from England came over to one of the Carolinas to teach the community about healthy foods.  Not that I care, but for some reason we seem to believe what the English have to say to us (except when they say, “pay us taxes”).  I don’t watch The Nanny, but I might start watching this.  I hope he succeeds.  My husband goes years between seeing chicken nuggets on his plate here.  The kids?  Eh not so much.  I don’t usually “cook” lunch, but I nearly always cook supper.  GD takes leftovers for his lunch, so we don’t even get those at home. 

Tomorrow is Zumba and I am making myself go.  I seriously would like to not have to buy all new shorts because I am too lazy to lose enough weight to get into last year’s shorts.  Yeesh, self control girl.

A little girl in Mae’s class has a rough life.  Her mom is in jail for second offense Meth and her father has an ankle bracelet and may have had his computer removed from the home.  I told GD this and he said, “I wish we could be her foster parents.”  So I started looking into it.  I don’t want to get into the habit of being a foster parent, but I like the girl, and I would like to help her if we can.  She has said that she will go to Florida to live with an aunt if she is removed…again.  If she does this she will probably never see her mother again.  We did some thinking and some praying, God knows our family has our own problems…but I decided I would open the door by applying to be a foster parent and IF we are approved and IF she is removed, well the door was open, and if it is to be, then it will be.  The picture I have in my mind is the book Weekends at Belleview about the psych emergency ward where the Dr said, “what most of these people need, we can’t give.  They need a childhood transplant.”

So we are filling out masses of paperwork, with questions about how our parents raised us and what our parent’s shortcomings are.  Then they start in on us.  There are 150 questions, including questions about your kids’ strengths and weaknesses.  I have strengths on everyone, but I can’t put my finger on Leo’s weakness.  He’s a perfect three-year-old (just ask my grandma).

Mom was telling me that she has an interesting memory of the Civil Rights Bill.  If she gets around to writing it up, I will recommend it.  You can consider this a reminder Mom…

I am reading a book about China.  All other books I have read about China have been written by outsiders, I think even Amy Tan, one of my very favorite authors, is probably an outsider.  The lady who wrote this might have been raised in America, maybe not, but she has written an interesting book.  I can’t decide if it is a collection of short stories or if they will all end up connected in the end, but I had Mae read a sentence, the one about a girl named Fu Mu Lan.  Remember Mulan the movie?  Yep it is her.

Friday I am off to lunch with the Governor’s wife. (we do that a couple of times a year you know)  No, this has to do with the writing contest.  I will have to decide how to best pry my body into something remotely dressy (I refuse to buy any clothes when I have a perfectly good wardrobe if I just put a little effort into fitting into it) and then pull out my “company manners.”  It might be fun.  I will get to spend about four hours in a car with a woman who gets paid to write.  That part can’t be bad.

GD is getting calves right and left.  The longhorn bull did his work, and they are cuter than ever.  One little guy has black ears and a black nose and the rest of him is white.  I will have to take some photos.  Does anyone need a longhorn bull? 

g’night 

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