Monday I went tutoring. Sam needs help with simple things like "in front of." We had a hard time decoding "along." I also detected a gap in counting by twos. After the session, I ran into the resource teacher who told me that they had Sam's tests and could put the child "in the program." I came home and fretted about what that could possibly mean.

We spent the day waiting for the phone to ring. When it finally did, it was Rich's doctor's nurse telling him that the computer was down so nuclear medicine would call when it was back up in the afternoon. Then, nothing.

So he's really tired, gets exhausted easily. Obviously, it's time to take him dancing again! This time, with 21 students, we did the Pravo Horo (Bulgaria) again, the one he always starts with. Rich was bemoaning that we didn't start one at the wedding. That's two weddings we've blown, watch out Vince and Bernadette! This was expanded into the Ceresna, also from Bulgaria, new tonight. He got us into a basket circle, and later split us into two, one tall and one short. That was easier, but it's still a hard dance. We redid the Zaroure from Lebanon, and then he taught us another new one, new to the class, that is. We've done this one in the summer dances. It's Gernega, and Armenian dance. First the feet, then the hands. That's certainly enough to concentrate on, and when he said we'd gotten into the shape of a baklava, I lost it. I stopped to remember what a baklava was, and I can't do that and dance at the same time, not yet I can't, and suddenly I had at least 10 left feet, all going the wrong way.

I really like this teacher. The first summer we danced I thought he had nothing but contempt for us fumble-footed sorts. He's really really patient, however.

Onward. We redid the Lesnebo, (Macedonia) and the Delile (Turkey) and then, having had practice standing on one foot while the other did all sorts of odd things, we were taught the Hora de la Munta (mountain dance) from Romania. It's complicated but fun. Then the Greek Tapeinos, and then everyone but me and the other lady with a sore shoulder did the Hopa Hopa. It's another basketweave dance and fast and bouncy and I didn't think it would be safe. We finished with the Ma Na'avu (how beautiful, Isaiah) from Israel. A full 90 minutes!

I stopped by the Post Office on both Monday and Tuesday. I note they mark the lunch hour, when they could be expected to be more busy, by taking clerks off the desk. This is not my regular branch, and I'm really glad.

I also took one more bag of books (making three in all) to the library for the booksale.

Tuesday Rich called Kaiser again, the computer was still down, nobody was talking, and he was looking up complaint forms. Finally, FINALLY, while I was out dropping off books, they called.

We also got a call from Monica in San Antonio. When we told her Fitch is really quiet, she said he had yelled all the way when she brought him. I guess he said it all then.

And I finally got the call from the social worker. I'm now waiting for my case supervisor to call back so I can sign my court report. This is unacceptable. However, in relation to the rest of it, I am really really happy. I've talked to the social worker and the resource specialist, and it appears that the thing I feared they would want for Sam, that the child be moved to a different school, is not what they want at all. They think Sam's academic problems can be addressed by mainstreaming with the odd pullout. (Odd = 2-3 times/week for 45 minutes a session. That's OK.) I'd been getting mentally prepped to fight to keep Sam in place with just this, since I believe the worst thing we could do would be to change schools now. I thought I might have to fight the school, the social worker, and the counsellor. And then I would have to speak up in court and ask for a court order that disagreed with them. Talk about scary! I'm not sure just how much clout a CASA would have in this situation, but I really didn't want to find out. Everyone is interested in doing the best for Sam, but sometimes the system's rules work against the best interest of a child. The CASA's job, mine, is to disregard the rules, if need be, to fight for the child's best interests, just like a parent would do. It's a relief that the system agrees with me about Sam's best interests. So, when the resource person told me Monday that he had "good news and better news," he was actually right.

I did pull rank a little. I said I'd like a copy of the psych evaluation, he said he'd need permission, and I informed him actually he didn't, that I had a court order that said it was OK. I was polite with the counsellors and let them get the permission mostly because it didn't matter and why antagonize people needlessly, but this one I want NOW, not sometime in the future. I was still polite, and he is happy to comply once he sees the court order, to avoid any possible legal ramifications.

I've obviously been worrying about this, else why would my dreams feature Sam and a relative, in the worst possible situation there could be, and what am I to do, report to the social worker and make it worse, or keep quiet and go against the law, oh woe. Fortunately it was just a dream.

Today I went to see Mumford which I quite enjoyed. I was convinced it was Marin County, after all I recognized the Franciscan Formation, one of the plusses of being trained in geology! Actually, it was Sonoma County. Close enough. I liked the movie, just fluffy enough to be fun.

Then Rich took me looking for a present. This year he's determined to get the VCR. As mine seems to be recording with a jump, that's probably as well. I'm also checking the digital cameras. Anyway, soon we, uh, I will have a dual VCR. As long as it programs at least 8 events, and the more the merrier, I'm happy about it.

And I got taken to dinner at one of my favorite spots, Thai Cottage. Stirfried chicken in chile sauce with tomatoes and onions and mushrooms and cashews, and finished with fried banana and coconut ice cream. Yummm.