The Weather Channel and our local weather forecasters announce the potential for our area getting snow probably three to six times a winter. Half the time, the result is either just a flurry that passes without leaving anything to note, or nothing at all. But the other half of the time we actually get something.

When Cowgrit told me, Saturday, that the weather forecasters were calling for snow on Monday morning, I dismissed it. The temperature Saturday was 57 degrees. The temperature Friday was 72 degrees. Monday would be March 2nd, and March means winter is pretty much over and done with in the South.

Sunday, Cowgrit started telling our boys that we might get snow over night. I thought it was cruel to get them worked up with hopes of snow. Sure, the temperature Sunday had plunged to 38 degrees (34 less than two days earlier), and it was raining, but it’s March.

But then when we woke up Monday morning, there was a thick carpet of snow on the ground. Well I’ll be darned. Our second snow of the season.

Fortunately, the pavement and ground was still wet from the rain over the weekend, so what white stuff that hit the roads just turned to slush. There wasn’t much ice, either. I was able to brush the snow off my car with my gloved hands.

My drive to work wasn’t nearly as dramatic as the last snow we had. This time the roads were pretty clear of any ice or snow. The trees and grass were well coated and pretty, but the pavement was clear. By the time I drove home last night, there was still some snow on the trees and grass.

I’m tired of winter. I’m tired of having to wear a coat. And two snows in one season is quite plenty. It’s March, now, let’s get on with spring.

Bullgrit

I just did our taxes over this past weekend. I hate doing taxes. The only thing that has made doing our taxes each year worth the headache is that we’ve always broke even or gotten a little refund back. It’s like I actually got rewarded for the effort. (Yeah, I know, I’m just being rewarded my own money.)

This year, though, we actually owe taxes. That makes the effort of doing the taxes a total disappointment. It’s adding insult to injury. Rubbing salt in the wound.

When I told Cowgrit that we owe taxes this year, she said, “We owe? Why?”

Then when I showed her the amount we owe, she nearly shouted, “What!? Why!?”

It had to do with getting a good severance package for being laid off, and then getting another job a week later. Yeah, the corporate world giveth, and the government taketh away. But hey, thinking about the alternative, it’s better to owe some extra taxes than to be in the opposite position: unemployed.

* * *

For as far back as I can remember, my dad has had a poster titled, “Poverty Sucks.” It shows a wealthy man (1979) in riding pants, holding a glass of champagne, leaning against a Rolls Royce, in front of the federal Welfare office (you can’t see the building name engraved in the wall behind the car in the small picture here).

He never hung the poster in any way — it stayed rolled up and in a closet forever. We’d pull it out every once in a while and laugh at it for a couple minutes and then put it back up.

We were nowhere near being wealthy; we were small-town middle class. We wore blue jeans for play instead of riding pants, we drank Coke and Mountain Dew instead of champagne, and we drove Pontiacs and Toyotas instead of Rolls Royces. But we could relate to the rich man’s sentiment on poverty: it would, indeed, suck.

* * *

Coincidentally with my doing our taxes this weekend, my dad just gifted me that old poster. I plan to frame it and hang it in my office.

So here’s to a fiscal year where we ended up having to pay more taxes instead of having to draw government funds for survival. (But this is not to suggest I look forward to owing taxes next year.)

Bullgrit

I heard a radio morning talk show ragging on minivans, insinuating they are uncool. I’ve occasionally heard other people (family, friends, strangers) rag on minivans, and pick on me for driving one — it’s Cowgrit’s vehicle, I only drive it sometimes. Interestingly, I have rarely heard anyone who actually owns a minivan complain about them (as a type of vehicle). Minivans are great. Especially for what they are designed for — families, with two or more children.

Our family had a sedan and a station wagon for the first few years of Calfgrit8’s life, and we did just fine. Loading in and our of either vehicle was not particularly problematic. But we bought a minivan the week before Calfgrit4 was born, and we discovered how much easier travel could be.

We could get ourselves and both children in and out of the vehicle so much easier — no bending over with 10-15 pounds of child and carrier. No more squeezing in and over the kids to buckle belts. Heck, just the automatic sliding doors (both sides!) made getting in and out so much easier.

My brother mentioned, “How lazy or weak must you be to need automatic doors?” Well, he’s never tried to handle an infant carrier, groceries, car keys, and a car door all at the same time. We have a friend who has a minivan with manual sliding doors, and she’s commented, “They’re a pain in the ass.”

I even like driving the minivan. It’s more comfortable than my sedan, and has better view of the road. And oh my God, I can’t imagine how our drive to Florida would have gone if we three adults and two kids had to ride in a station wagon. The minivan is like a bus.

When one of my (childless) friends rode in our minivan one time, he commented, “This is nice. I’d like to have this kind of van. But without kids, people would think I’m a molester out cruising for victims.”

My previous boss said she made her husband drive their minivan, because, “I’m too cool to be seen in a minivan.”

Oh well, I love our minivan. And if you need to rag on it, then you can kiss my big ol’ leg-room, head-room, comfortable-seat, back-seat-folding-down, plenty-of-power, family-hauling butt.

Bullgrit

Calfgrit8 had some homework that he couldn’t figure out. Cowgrit tried to help him with it, but she ended up coming to me: “Can you help CG8 with his homework?”

Cowgrit said she tried to help him, but she couldn’t figure out how to do it. I thought she was probably distracted by Calfgrit4, or maybe she was hurried with cooking dinner. I mean, it’s second grade homework, how difficult can it be?

The homework in question:

Pay the Bill

Solve.
Draw the coins to show the amount of change due.

A. Penny has $2.00. She buys an ice cream sundae for $1.89. How much change will she receive?

B. Percy has $1.00. He buys a small drink for $0.60. How much change will he receive?

C. Pip has $3.00. He buys a hamburger for $2.35. How much change will he receive?

. . . etc.

Looking over each problem, I immediately thought, “11 cents (a dime and a penny), 40 cents (four dimes), 65 cents (two quarters, a dime, and a nickel). . .” etc. Yeah, this isn’t complicated.

I sat down with Calfgrit8 and we talked through the problems a bit. “We haven’t learned how to subtract three-digit numbers, yet,” he explained.

“OK,” I said, “we can do it tonight.”

I wrote down
_200
-189

Then I sat there a minute looking at the equation.

“How do I do it, Dad?” CG8 asked.

“Um,” I answered, “well, ah, give me just a moment.”

I fiddled with the numbers a bit. I marked out the end zero and wrote “10” above it. Then I marked out the middle zero and wrote “9” above it. I thought that was it, but when I did the subtraction from right to left, I got 111 (instead of 011). How did this pattern change the beginning two to a one?

Wait a minute. I couldn’t remember actually how to do the borrowing from one digit to another. How many years has it been since I did subtraction on paper? Twenty years? Thirty years?

I took one of the other equations
_300
-235

I fiddled with the number again, but I couldn’t figure out how the old thing worked. I said to CG8, “You’ve done two-digit subtraction, right? I’ve seen you do that.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“OK,” I said, “show me how you do that.”

He did 20 – 18.

“Great,” I said, “now lets use that to figure out how to do three-digit numbers.”

I wrote down the 200 – 189 equation again, and let him work it out, extrapolating what he knew for two-digit numbers. He did it correctly on his first try. And I saw how it was supposed to be done. Man, but that made me feel like an idiot.

CG8 quickly went through all six of his change problems, getting the right answer each time. Once he saw how it worked, it was all his. I wanted to give him some more three-digit numbers to subtract, but dinner was almost ready, and we still had another step to do on the homework.

I showed him how he could draw the change: I made a circle and wrote “1” in it for the penny, and then another circle with a “5” for the nickel. He got the pattern and used this for writing the change for each problem.

11 cents = circle-10, circle-1
40 cents = circle-10, circle-10, circle-10, circle-10
65 cents = circle-50, circle-5, circle-10
etc.

Afterward, Cowgrit and I talked about the homework. She, like me, could immediately tell the answer, but she couldn’t figure out how to explain it to CG8. “Yeah,” I agreed, “I ended up getting him to figure it out on his own.”

I wonder if helping with his homework will get easier or harder for me as his math problems get more advanced. I think I’m actually looking forward to him needing help balancing equations and solving for X.

Bullgrit