The Cardinal, that is. As in the Stage Company. Your BloomingtonGirl has been working hard, raising money for this exciting theatre company.
(I haven't checked with our admin person to see if any checks with BloomingtonGirl in the memo line have arrived at our PO Box, but I am sure that my loyal readers won't let me down. For mailing information, see the post previous to this one.)
I am finding that this development work is the perfect combination of working with theatre (which I have always LOVED) and doing business development (which I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed). And, it is for an organization about which I am totally excited.
The downside is that I am not writing as much and am not keeping my correspondence up - either on the phone or in this blog. I hope that my friends will cut me some slack on my being a bit AWOL lately.
In other news, I have been following the dermatologist's orders and I have not been doing any canning. However, tomorrow if time allows, I am going to put up some Pomegranate jam and later in the week, I am going to make a large batch of Chow Chow. The jam requires no cutting or chopping so it shouldn't bother my hands at all. The Chow Chow is a different story altogether. It requires chopping 15 pounds of stuff. But, my loyal readers will be happy to know that I plan to take really good care of my hands in the process and pamper them in a big way afterward. If my hands suffer a bit, well, so be it. I am just crazy for this Chow Chow and MUST put up at least one more batch before the fall. Call me reckless and wild. Go ahead. It won't stop me, no siree.
In other other news, I had to dish out a very large consequence to my very spoiled little son today. Because I have not been getting the proper mothering job done, he is accustomed to making large messes, mostly of gazillions of small Lego pieces and not cleaning them up. This is the case in his bedroom especially.
This morning, I told him - quite nicely, I might add - to clean up the Legos and wooden blocks that were all over his bedroom floor in order that I could vacuum the floor later. I told him that I would help so that we could get to school on time. He pitched an absolute fit and if you had been listening outside the door to his carrying on about what he had been told to do, you would have surmised that he was having his eyelashes torn out one by one. Such torture!
Finally, I could take the carrying on no more and I kicked him out of his room and told him that I would clean it. He had wailed that he wanted things to be back to the way they were, meaning that I would clean up after him.
So, I agreed to just that, but with a catch. I told him (while on the drive to school) that I would clean up after him, but that he would be allowed to play with only the amount of toys I was willing to clean up.
While Jack was at school, I arranged his room to accomodate my new position.
When Jack went up to his room in the evening to get ready for bed, he saw a room empty of all of his toys except for the one toy (a truck) that I would be willing to clean up.
You can imagine how this went over. More tomorrow on that story.
I must go to bed now and read Middlemarch, a book I have started several times in the past but which had not previously held my interest. I am so interested now that I can't imagine what was wrong with me in the past.