Hello Hello

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Oh, my

I understand it's like a cultural institution around here, but, if the pictures in their ads and periodic fashion articles in the Winston-Salem Journal are to be believed, The Buena Vista Shop sells the ugliest clothes ever.

Check out the Bottom middle.

Monday, February 27, 2006

Going on and on and on

I have another blog, Wordaholism, which I run with a few friends. I often discuss things about life in Winston-Salem there as well.

Winston-Salem Confidential

Furniture Shopping

Coventry

Dewey's

Scuppernongs

Spring Planting

Get Rich Quick

Dixie Classic

Pilot Mountain

Smells

Wild Animals

Wordaholism
(wûr-də-hô-lĭz'əm, -hŏ-) n. A disorder characterized by the excessive consumption of and dependence on words. There is some thought that there may be a genetic component, as it appears to run in families.

Friday, February 24, 2006

They're baaaaack

The dealers are back. They're bold young things, parking their business right at the doors to the neighborhood grocery, wearing their colors. I try to avoid making eye contact, but they are persistant. They call out. They think they have something for everyone. The only strategy that works is to move by quickly when they are hassling someone else and carry no cash.

Knowledge is power. Click here to learn what they're pushing this year.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Summer Birthdays and Kindergarten

Registration for next year's preschool was this week. Although the youngest will only be four when the next school year starts, I am already planning on an extra year before kindy, as his birthday falls in August, plus he seems on the younger side. That gives me two more years with my baby before he goes off to all-day school. I call that extra year "bonus Mommy time".

When the oldest was approaching kindergarten age, I made the same decision, based too on his birthday (September) and maturity (young). But we didn't live here then, and the preschools where we lived had no such thing as a Readiness Class, so he repeated the curriculum for four year olds. While it wasn't ideal, it was better than pushing him into an academic rigor for which he was unready.

But now we live here, and almost every school I've looked at has Readiness, a special class for those children old enough by State Law to attend Kindergarten, but just not quite ready, with a curriculum that discusses concepts in more detail than regular preschool but not with the same seriousness of kindergarten. And I think the very concept is splendid.

Kindergarten Enrollment in Forsyth County

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Cardboard and Fire Trucks

Again this week I am opting not to place my cardboard curbside for pickup with other recyclables. Why, you ask? Because frankly I find the requirements akin to demanding I giftwrap it. To wit:

CORRUGATED CARDBOARD
Flatten or cut in pieces 3 x 3 feet or less.
Bundle & tie with string (NO wire, fishing line or tape).
Place next to green recycling container(s).
NO pizza boxes or boxes with grease or food residue or packing materials.

source: http://www.cityofws.org/Recycling/Cardboard_/cardboard_.html

When's the last time you tried to fold cardboard into 3 foot pieces? No, one really has to cut it. And then one is required to tie it even if one only has one box to be recycled. If one thinks one can get away with less strictly adhering to this protocol, one is sadly mistaken and will be greeted by the site of one's cardboard left behind by the recycling truck.

No. It is far easier for me to let it build up, then load the kids and the cardboard into my car, and take the cardboard, unsized and untied, to one of the nine drop-off sites for cardboard recycling, all of which are located at fire stations.

Recap
curbside = cutting or folding (ha!) and tying with string.
drop-off site = no prep PLUS bonus firetruck spotting

Other than the corrugated cardboard, though, I'm rather impressed with the scale of the recycling program here. In our household, we are able to recycle almost half of what traditionally would be thrown away.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Party: DEM

I just celebrated a birthday, one divisible by five. Accordingly, my driver's license expired. While at the DMV, I registered to vote here, which I had not done since moving roughly eighteen months ago.

I was surprised to see so many Democratic Party subgroups on the party website, since I think there are only like 18 of us in all of Forsyth County. Or maybe it's just my neighborhood that's so staunchly for the homegrown Burr.

Monday, February 20, 2006

¿Donde está Evelyn Perez?

Recently I followed a series of links from one site to another until I found myself at the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children's website. Out of sheer curiosity, I ran a search on Winston-Salem.

I was stunned to discover that a three year old girl (now four) had gone missing in Winston-Salem last April. I have never read anything about it, and I read the local newspaper voraciously. It's coming up on ten months now since she was last seen; I cannot imagine her mother's pain.

NCMEC's poster for Evelyn Perez

Sunday, February 19, 2006

How y'all doing this morning?

8 o'clock found me weighing the risks of creeping down the driveway to get the Journal without getting dressed or brushing my hair. I finally reasoned that those up are either already at church or dressing for it at home; I decided to go for it. I inhaled deeply as I sauntered down the drive, looking decidedly vivid in my Nick & Noras, baby blue pajamas festooned with large images of breakfast foods.

I was just reaching down for the paper when I heard it - a car approaching suddenly from the street that intersects my own. I immediately turned to go back up the driveway so as not to be spotted. Was it a pre-latte sluggishness? The remaining damp of yesterday's snow shower? The weightier essence of the Sunday edition? I lost my balance.

I looked up from where I lay, on my back, legs sprawled, just in time to see a neighbor and his wife driving past, a few minutes late for the start of the 8 am service. In keeping with the Carolina Neighbor Code, they each raised one hand in a wave and smiled at me. I did the same, pretending for a moment that there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, that I meant to be lying on my driveway early on a cold, Sunday morning, before darting like a wet squirrel back to the warmth and dryness of my home.