Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Well, so much for the promises to write something every day! Falling down on the job, am I. There are compelling reasons, readers -- most of which I cannot place in this forum at this time.
Last Moday's adventure speaks to my state of mind. I got up in the morning and decided to go to Asbury Park for a day at the beach -- not toting along Mr. J, or Heir (in Norway anyhow) or Spare (that place would bore her). Got to the beach, parked. pulled the beach bag from the trunk. No swimsuit. I remembered pulling it out of the chiffarobe, but it never got into the beach bag.
But here's some free advice for which I'll pay whatever you ask. If you're going to forget something that you need at the beach, a bathing suit should top the list! If you've got $$$, you can buy a fairly affordable one on the spot. I was just about to do that -- brought one up to the cash register -- and then remembered that my credit card was locked in the trunk of my car, ten blocks away.
I swam in my clothes. If New Jersey has clothing-optional beaches, Asbury Park is not one of them.
At least I had my sunscreen and my summer reading book. But I forgot my baseball cap, and the wind kept whipping my hair into my face ... because I didn't have any ponytail holders either.
Going to the beach never used to be so tricky.
All of this speaks to an agitated state of mind, which I have abundantly now. My wand is working overtime to keep me cool.
This morning a good rant will help cleanse my palate, so I take aim at a familiar target: my sister, once again reaping the rewards of rash behavior.
I knew there were such things as quickie divorces, but it appears there are also such things as quickie adoptions. Back in late May, my sister took custody of two little boys, brothers aged 5 and 7. She is 47. Her husband is 49. Apparently the adoption process is under way but not complete ... I am scanty on details because I have kept my distance through sis's rampant acquisition of things, pets, and now people. From the time she began talking about adoption until the time she got two children was a matter of months. The agency never contacted me at all. I would not have said Sis couldn't be a fit mother, but I would have alerted them to a potentially vicious dog in the mix. The dog is still there.
Day before yesterday, my sister leaves a Facebook status, berating the federal government for not granting her temporary passports for the boys so they could all go to Jamaica on vacation.
All you liberals out there, pat yourselves on the back! It is actually difficult for a couple to take two young boys who are not completely adopted and who have been living with the couple less than 12 weeks, to a Third World country on temporary passports! My sister was shocked ... SHOCKED, I tell you, that her vacation plans have been scuttled by government red tape!
In the course of our virtual shouting match on this issue, Sis told me that the two social workers assigned to her case said that there would be no problem jetting off to Jamaica with the kids, and that one of those gated, fenced-in family resorts would be a super-duper place for them to "bond as a family."
I'm no social worker, no training in that profession whatsoever. But it seems illogical to me that family bonding should occur at an exclusive resort, rather than on a day-to-day basis with, say, a picnic basket, a handful of the dogs, and a local bathing beach.
Sis said that she and her husband had booked a hiking trip in Montana last summer, for this summer. (This is the old, typical Sis and her husband.) The travel agency would not reimburse them for the trip. (More free advice? Think ten times about those vacations booked a year in advance.) Jamaica was an alternative that the agency offered. And the social workers a-okayed it and started my sister onto the process of obtaining quickie passports for two minors.
Sis's Facebook statuses continue to reflect her frustration with our vigilant government and its efforts to curb child trafficking, efforts that penalize good, Christian people who only want to go to a fenced-in resort to bond with their instant family.
If any of you out there have adopted children and can send along to me some valuable advice on how best to bond, please fling it my way. Remember that in these days of shared sacrifice, you will need to pay me to take your free advice, but I'll be pretty liberal. I'm a proud liberal. I like to see my tax dollars at work.