I've had my first class in the writing course I'm taking--so far, so good. It's a small group of people, I like them all, and that's all I'm gonna tell you, because the first thing we learned was: "What happens in Life Writing stays in Life Writing." So much for blog fodder.
It's evident that the challenge for me is going to be adjusting the topics assigned for homework so that I can write about something I haven't already explored to death here at Velvet Sacks. This week we're supposed to write about a trip we've taken. The last traveling I did was the trip with my sister to the Smoky Mountains in 2011, but I milked that one for all it was worth as soon as we got back. (I still use pictures from that vacation on my photo blog.) It would be very easy to regurgitate an old blog post for homework, but I won't learn anything if I do that. And learning is the whole point.
Hm. There is a possibility that I'll post my completed homework assignments here. Judging by the small number of comments I get, what happens at Velvet Sacks stays at Velvet Sacks.
The other class I'm taking is Acrylic Exploration. It's been nearly thirty years since I went through an acrylic-painting phase, and I enjoyed it despite the fact that I had no idea what I was doing. I registered for this class because I thought it might be fun to try it again after learning a little something about it.
Today I got the list for class supplies and headed out to Michael's to buy everything. Holy crap! Who knew paints were so expensive? This had better be fun, and I'd better be reasonably good at it, because I'm gonna have to play with these paints at least weekly for the next three years in order to get my money's worth.
The Blessings of Rural Life
My son-in-law called this afternoon to relay a message from the man who rents the house in front of mine. That man is one of the neighbors I wrote about yesterday who were out mowing their lawns, making mine look worse, and he reported that there's water standing in the front yard. The front yard is on a little hill, so rainwater drains off easily and standing water is a sign that something is wrong. Because of the location of the water, my son-in-law's best guess is that the pipe leading away from my septic tank is broken. Uh-oh.
I've called the plumber, who can't get here before tomorrow afternoon. That's fine, since I'm not having problems in the house (knock on wood!), but if he doesn't start digging until tomorrow afternoon, it's likely that he'll have to come back the next day to finish the job, and I hate when things drag on like that. I'm just speculating, of course. I know plumbing is about s--t, but I don't know s--t about plumbing. Maybe it'll be a quick fix.
My son-in-law had attempted to reach me on my cell phone, but I was at Michael's and didn't get the call. My smart phone might as well have had a lobotomy; I don't use it enough to justify paying for the extra Internet connection. In fact, when it comes to using that phone, I'm as brainless as it is. I know how to make and answer calls, and I know how to text. There are no other features I use often enough to remember them, so when the phone somehow gets switched in my purse from ring to vibrate, it takes a minute to figure out how to fix it. Actually, it takes about an hour and a minute: it's always at least an hour before I think to check it and discover that I've missed a call.
As for turning off the phone? Pfffft! I don't have a clue how to do that. I used to know, when the phone was new. Now I don't even think about it until the rare occasion when I see a turn-off-your-phone sign upon entering a movie theater or a doctor's office. Being unprepared to whip out the instruction manual on the spot, I have no choice but to ignore the sign. Afterwards, I forget about it again until the next time.
According to Levi's inner clock, that's what time it is now--and he's right. He just came over, laid his head in my lap, and rolled those big, caramel-colored eyes up to meet mine. I like the sweet way he lets me know when he needs something, so I'll reinforce that behavior by stopping this right now and going to dish up the kibble.