In law school, we learned about floodgates. It's a powerful word that can knock the wind out of many a good argument for legal relief. Is the plaintiff entitled to damages? A student would line up all the reasons favoring a substantial recovery. Someone would raise their hand: Yes, but floodgates! It's like sticking a pin in a balloon. Puff! Good reasoning encounters a major roadblock to recovery.
I learned about it early in my law school days. I had a newborn and I signed up to take a half load of classes. I could not be a full time student with a babe less than a month old. Thankfully, the law was on my side: the legislature had just mandated that every admitted student should be given a chance to go part time. They weren't worrying about new moms, they were merely trying to accommodate students who worked and went to school at the same time.Nonetheless, I pounced.
The law school wasn't quite ready for parttimers and things were a little wobbly at the beginning. For example, an exam in one of my classes required that you know something of procedure and analysis that you would have learned in another class. That is, unless you were me and hadn't taken that class. I fumbled, took guesses and got a mediocre grade. I petitioned to retake: it's not fair! I hadn't taken that class! The answer? We're sympathetic, but... floodgates!
Meaning, if you let one student retake, others will follow and very quickly you'll have a stampede.
Damn floodgates!
I thought of floodgates this morning. Brr!! It's a cold day. I really regretted not wearing gloves when I went out to feed the animals. Stop Sign is there, disgruntled at the offerings. I had been giving him leftovers and now he is snubbing the regular cat food. I had taken him to feline gastronomic heights. Too late to erase those memories.
Inside again, I really want my milky frothy coffee. Ed is sound asleep after a restless night. I wait. And wait. The morning is moving very quickly toward the noon hour. Ah well, I'd eaten once before without him. Just last week! I should just do it again.
I eat alone.
He gets up thirty minutes later and asks -- are you ready for breakfast?
I'd unleashed the floodwaters of eating alone. I can vow, swear, resolve never to do it again, but each time Ed sleeps, I will ask myself: should I really wake him?
In other news, did you notice the new name?? As of January 10, 2019, The Other Side of the Ocean has shed the clutter of excess and morphed into just plain Ocean. As someone noted -- the simplicity and the touch of mystery (why does she call it Ocean. I wonder??) is appealing. Too, it helps those who continue to search the full name. (The change is, unfortunately, retroactive, so any past reference to the fuller title will leave new readers of old entries puzzled, but I have always been rooted in the present and the fact that there are oddities sprinkled throughout makes it all the more real for me: life is never completely logical!)
Sail away, you odd and sweet little thing! May you always navigate the choppy waters of the everyday with a chipper spirit and a hearty appreciation for all that's beautiful out there!
And in the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop.
She made a kite in school. She wants to fly it. She thought to make a long string, so that it would go way up high!
It's too cold. And there is no wind.
She is so disappointed. Why, Gaga? It was so windy yesterday!
Maybe in Spring, when it's both warmer and windier! Offer hope -- that's all I can do.
From that moment, I feel she has shrugged off the beauty of winter. The rest of the afternoon, she spins tales about the wonders of spring.
But first, a taste of the cake the French teacher at her school has made -- it's a Galette des Rois, a very popular cake in France, baked mostly in January to celebrate the Epiphany. It's filled with fragipani and somewhere in the middle there is an almond. If you find it, you are king/queen for the day.
Snowdrop is very nervous about who should find the nut. So far -- no one.
Continuing from yesterday's play, she again takes the baby that is known to be the best behaved of the lot shopping. This means they go to the sun room and Snowdrop fills the basket with small items that she finds there. (My challenge is to retrieve those items later, when she goes home, and put them back where they belong.)
Then the story of spring begins...
... and continues until it is time for her to leave.
Birds, butterflies, flowers, kites! They were all with us today!
Is there anything I would possibly want to change about this lovely day? Well yes. Ed took a swing backwards with his stubborn bug. He is a lump on a log right now -- a rather big one at that. Here's hoping all that sleep today will finally do the trick for him. If not, I've threatened, well, a whole bunch of things. All pointless. Ed has no fear.
I learned about it early in my law school days. I had a newborn and I signed up to take a half load of classes. I could not be a full time student with a babe less than a month old. Thankfully, the law was on my side: the legislature had just mandated that every admitted student should be given a chance to go part time. They weren't worrying about new moms, they were merely trying to accommodate students who worked and went to school at the same time.Nonetheless, I pounced.
The law school wasn't quite ready for parttimers and things were a little wobbly at the beginning. For example, an exam in one of my classes required that you know something of procedure and analysis that you would have learned in another class. That is, unless you were me and hadn't taken that class. I fumbled, took guesses and got a mediocre grade. I petitioned to retake: it's not fair! I hadn't taken that class! The answer? We're sympathetic, but... floodgates!
Meaning, if you let one student retake, others will follow and very quickly you'll have a stampede.
Damn floodgates!
I thought of floodgates this morning. Brr!! It's a cold day. I really regretted not wearing gloves when I went out to feed the animals. Stop Sign is there, disgruntled at the offerings. I had been giving him leftovers and now he is snubbing the regular cat food. I had taken him to feline gastronomic heights. Too late to erase those memories.
Inside again, I really want my milky frothy coffee. Ed is sound asleep after a restless night. I wait. And wait. The morning is moving very quickly toward the noon hour. Ah well, I'd eaten once before without him. Just last week! I should just do it again.
I eat alone.
He gets up thirty minutes later and asks -- are you ready for breakfast?
I'd unleashed the floodwaters of eating alone. I can vow, swear, resolve never to do it again, but each time Ed sleeps, I will ask myself: should I really wake him?
In other news, did you notice the new name?? As of January 10, 2019, The Other Side of the Ocean has shed the clutter of excess and morphed into just plain Ocean. As someone noted -- the simplicity and the touch of mystery (why does she call it Ocean. I wonder??) is appealing. Too, it helps those who continue to search the full name. (The change is, unfortunately, retroactive, so any past reference to the fuller title will leave new readers of old entries puzzled, but I have always been rooted in the present and the fact that there are oddities sprinkled throughout makes it all the more real for me: life is never completely logical!)
Sail away, you odd and sweet little thing! May you always navigate the choppy waters of the everyday with a chipper spirit and a hearty appreciation for all that's beautiful out there!
And in the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop.
She made a kite in school. She wants to fly it. She thought to make a long string, so that it would go way up high!
It's too cold. And there is no wind.
She is so disappointed. Why, Gaga? It was so windy yesterday!
Maybe in Spring, when it's both warmer and windier! Offer hope -- that's all I can do.
From that moment, I feel she has shrugged off the beauty of winter. The rest of the afternoon, she spins tales about the wonders of spring.
But first, a taste of the cake the French teacher at her school has made -- it's a Galette des Rois, a very popular cake in France, baked mostly in January to celebrate the Epiphany. It's filled with fragipani and somewhere in the middle there is an almond. If you find it, you are king/queen for the day.
Snowdrop is very nervous about who should find the nut. So far -- no one.
Continuing from yesterday's play, she again takes the baby that is known to be the best behaved of the lot shopping. This means they go to the sun room and Snowdrop fills the basket with small items that she finds there. (My challenge is to retrieve those items later, when she goes home, and put them back where they belong.)
Then the story of spring begins...
... and continues until it is time for her to leave.
Birds, butterflies, flowers, kites! They were all with us today!
Is there anything I would possibly want to change about this lovely day? Well yes. Ed took a swing backwards with his stubborn bug. He is a lump on a log right now -- a rather big one at that. Here's hoping all that sleep today will finally do the trick for him. If not, I've threatened, well, a whole bunch of things. All pointless. Ed has no fear.
