It’s time to start filling out college applications with the boy.

Or is it?

I don’t know. I’ve taught college classes before. I was in college not all that long ago. I think I could do it. I’m thinking of homeschooling the boy for college. Is that allowed?

Think of it; the cost savings alone make it worth it. We could even try to replicate the whole college experience (I think that’s important for kids). Kegger, anyone? Dinners could be cafeteria style and contain lots of carbs. I could make him walk with his backpack all over the neighborhood “campus” before attending class in our dining room. I could stock up on Blue Books and give him exams on my lunch hour. We could hang out on grounds at UVA so he has interaction with peers. It wouldn’t be so bad. Heck, we’ve still got our college textbooks so he could score a triple major in English, Math and Computer Science with what we’ve got on hand.

Maybe I’ll ask him to apply to Mom U., just for kicks. Who knows? It might be the ideal back up plan.

The boy has begun his senior year of high school and yeeps, this is going to be a Kleenex year. It is a year of lasts:

The last Homecoming
The last High School marching season
The last competition
The last Winter concert
The last Spring concert
The last prom
The last day of high school

A friend was telling me about her friend who packed her daughter off to college a couple of weeks ago. She stood in the Target lunchbox aisle after she was gone and just burst into tears. This is what awaits me, I’m afraid, as I welled up just hearing the story.

It’s almost silly, I’ll admit, because I hardly ever see the boy as it is. Our conversations, when we do happen to bump into one another during waking hours, consist of “What’s for dinner?” and “Can I have some money?” with my responses of “Food!” and “What do you need it for?”

Nevertheless, it’s going to be a fast year of lasts and this time next year I’ll be a sobbing, distraught mess.

After all of my posts about the crossing guard situation in Albemarle County, I was invited to attend a press conference this morning by both the Sheriff’s office and the Albemarle County school board.

I was of course, delighted to be present for the big announcement.

Sheriff Ed Robb greeted the small crowd gathered in front of Hollymead Elementary School to share the news that the Albemarle County Sheriff’s Office, the Albemarle County Police Department and the Albemarle County Public Schools have collaborated to develop a certified crossing guard training program — the first in the state.

The program, to be held Sept. 4 and 5 and Oct. 6 and 7 in Earlysville, consists of two full-day sessions focused on training volunteer crossing guards. The program has been “approved, sanctioned and certified” by the Commonwealth, said Sheriff Robb. Trainees will learn traffic direction techniques, emergency reporting skills and earn CPR and Automated External Defibrillator (AED) certification. The future crossing guards will be required to pass a written test and complete a practical exercise to graduate.

Diane Behrens, assistant superintendent, Albemarle County Schools said that the crossing guard problem began in February, 2007 when it was brought to their attention that according to state law, teachers cannot be crossing guards. Working together, the school administrators and law enforcement groups found a solution: train the teachers and other volunteers to meet the requirements and reinstate the crossing guards.

When asked, Behrens said that it was not clear whether bus service would be discontinued for the students designated as “walkers” in the district. “It’s hard to take something away once we’ve started it,” she said. Student walkers for the district did not have bus service prior to February 2007.

What took so long to get the crossing guard program up and running? I have wondered, as February was nearly seven months ago. Brian Wheeler, school board member and fellow blogger who was not present at the press conference but with whom I’ve communicated on this topic, said that the curriculum had to be developed and approved by the state. As any teacher or government employee knows, that kind of process takes time. It’s a miracle they got it done this quickly, in that case.

The program is actively recruiting crossing guard trainees. If you’re interested in learning more about providing safe routes to schools in Albemarle, contact Caroline Heins, program coordinator for the Alliance for Community Choice in Transporation.

We had an impressive little storm roll through C’ville last night, complete with power outages and (what drought?) full-on downpours.

A huge branch from one of our backyard trees fell.

It landed only a few feet from the house.

With all the thunder, rain and hail, we didn’t notice when it fell, and were shocked to look out from the sunroom and see it on the ground.

I remembered this section of the tree as having a large squirrels’ nest in it — one I’d been watching and waiting to see fall in the next storm. I didn’t imagine it would take half the upper tree with it. Some squirrel family is really ticked right now.

We’re under a drought warning here in C’ville. Since I don’t remember this ever happening in Missouri, I guess I find it the teensiest bit exicting. Warning! Restrictions! Great words.

So here’s what the Jaggers family will be doing to conserve water:

1. We’re goin’ greasy, as our friend Dave would say. We’re only going to bathe when absolutely necessary and when people look askance at us (they do that often, the looking askance) we’ll put on our best  Brad Pitt and say, “We’re not showering until everyone can shower.”
2. Since the boy takes the longest showers of all of us, we’re going to have him drive a couple of counties over to a campground for his showers. Don’t worry, I’ll give him a roll of quarters.
3. The girl suggested we follow a camp rule, “If it’s yellow let it mellow . . . ” etc., but I nixed that one. Some things that happen at camp need to stay at camp.
4. We’re using paper plates! Why? Paper, while causing more garbage, causes less need to wash dishes, therefore saving water. Since I hate to do laundry even more than dishes, I’m considering asking everyone to wear paper garments as well.
5. Charlottesville restaurants will not be serving water, unless its requested. We won’t be serving water, either, at Casa de Jaggers. You can get up and get it yourself.

Tags: Charlottesville drought

I’ve been pondering this idea for awhile. There are so many bloggers in St. Louis that I’d like to meet and hang out with. So here’s the question: if I host a St. Louis blogger gathering (I’m thinking spring ‘08), would you like it to be:

• Informational and content-focused, i.e. a mini-blogging conference with a variety of topics?
• Casual and chatty — just a bunch of folks with carpal tunnel drinking lattes?
• Some combination of the two?

Oh, and most importantly, would you go to a St. Louis blogger gathering?

Moving to a new city, miles and miles away from anyone who knows you, from anyone you know, is hard. It takes a lot of time and energy to introduce, explain and engage yourself again and again. I never actually dated as an adult, but I imagine what I’ve been going through is a little like going on about 50 blind dates. I’m constantly meeting new people, either through existing contacts or online, and then arranging for that first person get together. With some, I’ve clicked. Others just sort of fizzled. Just like dating, I think every time. I think I’ve met one or two new people this way every month for the last 20 months. I s’pose there’s a name for someone who DATES that much.

This week I was “set up” with a new potential friend by another new contact. The reason? It’s truly weird how similar we are — we’re the same age, our kids are the same ages and genders; weirder still, we’ve been married about the same amount of time and are STILL married and that’s not all! We both work in public relations.

So it was another blind date with promises for a second get-together.

I think I’m becoming a blogger conference junkie. At the end of September, I’m headed to the land of the mouse for BlogOrlando. I was excited about Blogher, but it was a little overwhelming. Too many people! Most of them women! It was a little freaky. This time, though, the unconference is hosted by my friend Josh, which makes it far less intimidating. There will be less estrogen — far less, as most of the attendees to date appear to be men. The sessions are smart, too, with offerings for Media, PR/Marketing, Technical and Life/Local — something for everyone.

The best part for me is that I will meet up with my colleague Mistie, a new and fantastic blogger and my sister, an extraordinary journalist and business strategies columnist (and, if I had to guess, future blogger). It’s going to be a good time.

Tags: BlogOrlando

On Tuesday, I wanted to take Comcast over my knee and sentence it to a lifetime of therapy. Six days before that, my Internet access went down like an overtired toddler at a birthday party. There was no fixing the situation, despite my rush-hour dash to the local office, the switch out of a modem, and two lengthy calls to customer service. An appointment was set for Tuesday between 2pm and 5pm. I resigned myself to “officing” at Panera, C’ville Coffee, the library, anywhere I could mooch free wifi and get my work day in. It was exasperating and my caffiene consumption reached an all new eye-twitching high. I also spent unnecessary money eating out when camping at my substitute offices. I seriously don’t care if I ever eat food from Panera/St. Louis Bread Co. again.

I think I’m still coming down from the coffee buzz.

Monday I called to verify that the technician would still be coming on Tuesday. Just to be sure. Tuesday I dutifully waited, beginning at 2pm. At 4:15pm I got antsy and called to see if they were on their way.

And they said, “We don’t have a service call scheduled for you, Mrs. Jaggers.”

And that’s when I threw myself on the floor and started screaming. OK. Not really. Well, almost.

The good part of this story is that I’m reconnected. I happened to be on the phone with someone who had a clue, unlike the previous two employees, and he was able to get me reconnected while we were on the phone. I asked why the other two bozos couldn’t have done what he did, six days ago and he said it was probably a monopolistic screwing. See, it’s not like when they completely hose you with lack of service, you can just switch to another ISP, no! So just take it, you Internet crackheads.

So I took it, until I snapped, then I talked my way up to the most senior manager I could find and I named names, oh yes I did, brother. And then I took a deep breath and filed this all away for next time, because you KNOW it will happen again. Next time, though, I’m not getting off the 24/7 service line until they beg for mercy.

Besides, I don’t think the Panera crowd wants me back anytime soon, either.

There was no limo at our wedding. No champagne, no Vera Wang.

We did not have a string quartet or a Hawaiian honeymoon.

There were wagers, we’re pretty sure.

But here we are, 18 years deep, pretty smug and happy, I must admit, to prove ya’ll wrong and collect those bets.

On August, 19, 1989 we were married (frightened; unemployed; teenagers!) and while we didn’t have much, we had love, family and friends.

And that, dear readers, has made all the difference. Happy anniversary to us, and to you, too for standing by and cheering us on through the first 18 years.