The Hubs packed me off to the doctor today, sure that I had West Nile Virus because of the MosquitoLand next door and my flu like symptoms since Wednesday. Yosemite news articles probably fueled the fire, so I agreed to get it checked out. My regular doctor was out and I met an old guy filling in. He was very patient with me as I explained my symptoms and threw in a few things for good measure, like bad hearing, and dimmer eyes, and just why is it I can't lose weight even though I still eat like a teenager and don't exercise?
I got the thumbs up that I didn't have WNV but I did have a virus. A catchable virus. So much for the big get together with the grandkinds tomorrow. It's fluids and rest for me, and maybe a treadmill and ear and eye tests in the coming months.
Speaking of wasting time, I finally acknowledged my Samsung slide phone from the dark ages had lived a good life. You remember the phones with just a camera, no internet, no computer stuff like emails and links to Facebook. Just a phone. Well, sadly, the audio portion went out and really, what good is a phone without the audio portion?
The phone store is a terrifying place. It's got all these tecchie people who talk really fast and their fingers whiz over thekeyboard and slide screens and colors jump around. Malcolm was one such salesman. He did find me a good unlimited calling plan which I need now that we have no home phone, and unlimited texting which is good because I guess everybody texts like 2 or 3 words at a time instead of full sentences, and so one conversation via text can take 30 exchanges. Who can afford that on the 250 texts a month plan? You'd only get to talk to 5 people all the way through.
Malcolm recommended I get an Android. Okay, it seemed cool the way he described it, and he was gushing with enthusiasm, and who wouldn't like voice activation emails and GPS and this is how you turn it on and this and this and this this this, and have a good day. I called the Hubs and was thinking it was pretty good except for not knowing how to end the call. So I just turned the phone off.
I turned it back on. The green pick up icon appeared on the screen. It was ringing. I pushed the screen and the green pick up receiver icon and nothing happened. I pushed it again. Third ring by this time, as I hunted around the outside of the case frantically and pushed one of those buttons which was volume control. Now it was screaming a fourth and fifth ring, so I just turned off the phone.
The Hubs got home and he was laughing at me ~! ~ so smarty pants, I had him try, and do you know what? He couldn't answer the phone either. That was day 1 with the Android Stratosphere. By the end of day 2, I had put everything back in the box and stuffed in the receipt and it is in my car. Any phone that requires a user's manual before answering the first call is too much phone for me.
We decided to skip a home phone because ATandT is extremely stubborn. When we called for service, the rep insisted that we really live in Woodland. No, actually, there are 2 County Road 95's in Yolo, one in Woodland and one in Zamora, and we live in Zamora. He wouldn't budge: their files clearly said Woodland, and you can't argue the point, even though one would hope an employee would at some point trust that we know where we live.
We needed them out to help with a phone line that swooped through a bunch of trees, wrapped around a pole and hung dangerously low over the gravel drive before attaching to the side of the house. It looked like a cloth wire covering, from the 1920s. The phone line also ran across the roof and then swooped low across the lawn to the neighbor's house, if you can believe that.
I called the Deathstar to dispatch a fellow, and they sent him to the wrong town, because they are absolutely sure we live in Woodland. He never did arrive. He reported there was actually no street address in Woodland, which was no surprise to us because we don't live there, closed the ticket and went home.
I called again. The second tech eventually did arrive after 3 directional adjustment calls and, after a brief assessment he just cut the line between the houses that ran across the lawn. (I think he was crabby from all that driving around.)
This is painful to admit, for me too, but that hanging phone line was still a problem over the drive, and we still needed it fixed. A third call, and a third guy out (after a brief tour of CR95, Woodland), who knotted a bunch of cable at the top of the pole raising it up about 8', and left.
Finally we were ready to turn on our phone! The Deathstar charged us something crazy like $150 to flip a switch to activate the line. Only, you guessed it, they activated a home somewhere in Woodland. Ours never did work. The Hubs called and they vehemently insisted it was active. Not in Zamora, it's not. We fought it all the way up the chain of command before they finally zeroed out the bill. I'm pretty sure that was the day we abandoned the whole land-line idea.
The end of the tale comes last week when a PG and E guy was onsite, and looked at the tangled mess of phone line that was jammed up in the trees and he just cut it right from the pole for us. So I will be needing a cell phone with unlimited voice and texting for life. We have officially severed our connection.
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 26, 2012
Andy Williams
http://www.latimes.com/news/obituaries/la-me-andy-williams-20120927,0,509480.story
Thanks for the memories, Andy Williams. What a class act.
Thanks for the memories, Andy Williams. What a class act.
Sep 12, 2012
Sock Signals
I was brought presents this morning, one of the Hubs' socks, and then another. Sam must stash them somewhere so she can send me sock signals when it's time to go outside for a squirt. LOL!
She's got personality plus, this dog. She is doing really well off the leash (so long as you've got a little hand full of food or treats to refocus her priorities.) But she's still a jumper and that is a concern. The dog newsletters say adolescence is the hardest phase, and we're smack in the middle of that, so maybe a refresher course at 4 Paws U is needed.
For Us.
On top of that, an op came up last night to possibly rescue another little labby-mix dog about Sam's size and temperament. That is the biggest news, ever. Will it change her, and us, and the routines we have now?
Is there ever a perfect time to introduce a new dog? Maybe it's like having children, more about a willingness to adapt to the changes than waiting for some magic moment to arrive.
Can we afford it? Do we need it? Can we manage it?
We're off the cuff people. A little puppy wanders into our email and we swoop down and turn our lives inside out and upside down in the most amazing ways. We are head over heels - with the wet breakfast kisses and 24/7 play mode.
I can't believe the person who wants a goat and a sheep and - hello- a horse is a little apprehensive. How will we manage two dogs without a run or garage? Will they mind off the leash and be safe in an unfenced yard? How will they get on? Will life morph into Thing One and Thing Two as destructo, trouncy Tiggerdogs?
My brave friends say just! do! it! Dog pals make for a happier, longer life. So off we go with eyes closed and counting to three ... somewhere we had better never run out of treats.
She's got personality plus, this dog. She is doing really well off the leash (so long as you've got a little hand full of food or treats to refocus her priorities.) But she's still a jumper and that is a concern. The dog newsletters say adolescence is the hardest phase, and we're smack in the middle of that, so maybe a refresher course at 4 Paws U is needed.
For Us.
On top of that, an op came up last night to possibly rescue another little labby-mix dog about Sam's size and temperament. That is the biggest news, ever. Will it change her, and us, and the routines we have now?
Is there ever a perfect time to introduce a new dog? Maybe it's like having children, more about a willingness to adapt to the changes than waiting for some magic moment to arrive.
Can we afford it? Do we need it? Can we manage it?
We're off the cuff people. A little puppy wanders into our email and we swoop down and turn our lives inside out and upside down in the most amazing ways. We are head over heels - with the wet breakfast kisses and 24/7 play mode.
I can't believe the person who wants a goat and a sheep and - hello- a horse is a little apprehensive. How will we manage two dogs without a run or garage? Will they mind off the leash and be safe in an unfenced yard? How will they get on? Will life morph into Thing One and Thing Two as destructo, trouncy Tiggerdogs?
My brave friends say just! do! it! Dog pals make for a happier, longer life. So off we go with eyes closed and counting to three ... somewhere we had better never run out of treats.
Sep 10, 2012
Wearing it Well
My lifelong companion and best brother turned 60 on the weekend.
In the last few years, life has changed for both of us. There is hardly any life overlap like there used to be. With two new marriages and 100 miles separating us, it is challenging to find the time.
But I sure do miss it. I still get phantom pangs for the free time we used to spend pal-ing around and figuring things out.
In his 20s, he was backpacking through Europe with friends, and carving out a career. His 30s and 40s were about buying a house, becoming an Uncle (thrice!) and a great role model for the boys now that we lived in the same town.
On his 50th, we ate Dim Sum in The City and toured Alcatraz, with the folks and the boys and friends. His house was full of black balloons, and the neighbors, who intended to mow a 6-0 in the lawn, ended up with a big Zero when the mower quit.
By 55 we had lost both of our folks, he was in love, soon to marry and kicking his life into high gear. From then and now they have constructed a great life together full of lots of fun.
And now, that age-resistant brother of mine is 60. That happened so fast.
So here's to looser skin and deeper wrinkles, and a thousand more timeless moments that will happen between here and there. I love you, Donnie boy.
In the last few years, life has changed for both of us. There is hardly any life overlap like there used to be. With two new marriages and 100 miles separating us, it is challenging to find the time.
But I sure do miss it. I still get phantom pangs for the free time we used to spend pal-ing around and figuring things out.
In his 20s, he was backpacking through Europe with friends, and carving out a career. His 30s and 40s were about buying a house, becoming an Uncle (thrice!) and a great role model for the boys now that we lived in the same town.
On his 50th, we ate Dim Sum in The City and toured Alcatraz, with the folks and the boys and friends. His house was full of black balloons, and the neighbors, who intended to mow a 6-0 in the lawn, ended up with a big Zero when the mower quit.
By 55 we had lost both of our folks, he was in love, soon to marry and kicking his life into high gear. From then and now they have constructed a great life together full of lots of fun.
And now, that age-resistant brother of mine is 60. That happened so fast.
So here's to looser skin and deeper wrinkles, and a thousand more timeless moments that will happen between here and there. I love you, Donnie boy.
Sep 6, 2012
BBTD
I have been putting it off.
My incomplete projects that sit around the house are not half restored cars or messy garages, or half renovated bathrooms, they languish online.
I began four separate blogs and photo websites which seemed completely reasonable when I had oodles of time to tend to them. Today, all but one have slipped under the radar until this morning when I accidentally clicked on one.
Oh no. All those faces and memories lit up like a cake, and have been idle and waiting for the last 2 years for updates. A casual observer might imagine the blogger's life had taken a turn for the worse and the page was abandoned, but no: I had just lost focus.
http://smallbytes.shutterfly.com/
I had to, right? I clicked on my happy place, the blog with the stories of our trip to Europe, also incomplete. We are stuck partway through England at present (I wish). It would have been so much easier to finish up when the details were fresh and new in 2010. Thank goodness for journal notes from the BestDaysEver to give it the true and proper ending it deserves.
http://bushtreks.blogspot.com/
There was one more site, a hybrid page of uplifting, lively news pulled from writings elsewhere and my own. It was intended as an antidote to the everyday gloom and doom we ingest; ala Charles Kuralt. I sure miss that guy.
I parted company with LaBellaVita and deleted her, and hope for renewed interest on the rest. Out here in the country, the BBTD (barely-better-than-dialup) is finally in and the dormer room upstairs is all set up to become a contemplative sanctuary for crafts and blogging. We'll see how it goes.
My incomplete projects that sit around the house are not half restored cars or messy garages, or half renovated bathrooms, they languish online.
I began four separate blogs and photo websites which seemed completely reasonable when I had oodles of time to tend to them. Today, all but one have slipped under the radar until this morning when I accidentally clicked on one.
Oh no. All those faces and memories lit up like a cake, and have been idle and waiting for the last 2 years for updates. A casual observer might imagine the blogger's life had taken a turn for the worse and the page was abandoned, but no: I had just lost focus.
http://smallbytes.shutterfly.com/
I had to, right? I clicked on my happy place, the blog with the stories of our trip to Europe, also incomplete. We are stuck partway through England at present (I wish). It would have been so much easier to finish up when the details were fresh and new in 2010. Thank goodness for journal notes from the BestDaysEver to give it the true and proper ending it deserves.
http://bushtreks.blogspot.com/
There was one more site, a hybrid page of uplifting, lively news pulled from writings elsewhere and my own. It was intended as an antidote to the everyday gloom and doom we ingest; ala Charles Kuralt. I sure miss that guy.
I parted company with LaBellaVita and deleted her, and hope for renewed interest on the rest. Out here in the country, the BBTD (barely-better-than-dialup) is finally in and the dormer room upstairs is all set up to become a contemplative sanctuary for crafts and blogging. We'll see how it goes.
Sep 5, 2012
The Game of Life
A friend suggested that for a blog to be read, one needs to have something interesting to read, and I quite agree. Another is convinced that a blog is little more than a diary that serves a purpose for the writer, and no one else.
My little blog is definitely more of the latter, completely unencumbered by visibility in a corner on the world wide web. I have changed its name 5 times and moved it twice for just that reason, intended for a close circle of friends, and whomever else happens to click on it accidentally.
There is no audience to consider or please; no content to fret about, other than maintaining some basic sense of honesty in writing down the lessons, remorsefulness, gratefulness and joy that lifts the grain.
It didn't start out that way. I had counters to see the traffic and interest, even where the readers resided. I was interested in what they thought. Every story was crafted as a piece of reflective art, an essay 'published' for the world to enjoy clever and purposeful writing. I loved spending my days finding just the right word in the right sentence to make the writing efficient and poignant.
Those early years were barren of meaningful things in my life, and that very good writing was a very good filler. In the years since, I have come to realize most writers are motivated by a) something to link to (reunion info, family info to span long distances); b) a talent to share (music, art, science, photography, travel); c) a strong opinion(historical, social, political); d) something to teach, or e) to find a voice.
I am glad that life is wont to change, because I needed it in a big way. My little blog and I clung to each other through the churning waters that freed my world from the drag of what was pulling me under. All sorts of transitions had to happen in order to purge what had to go and make good on the rest.
A huge part of the change came symbolically when I started using my maiden name as part of my last name. A friend challenged that I was pretending the married years didn't happen. That wasn't it, not at all! But it was time to get out from under the shadow of those years, and regain the half of my life that I most authentically associate with. And now, in marriage, my maiden name has become my formal middle name for just that reason.
There were humiliating losses and wisened, bloody gains but this journey is mine to reflect on and appreciate when I need a boost. And that, for me, is what blogging is all about.
My little blog is definitely more of the latter, completely unencumbered by visibility in a corner on the world wide web. I have changed its name 5 times and moved it twice for just that reason, intended for a close circle of friends, and whomever else happens to click on it accidentally.
There is no audience to consider or please; no content to fret about, other than maintaining some basic sense of honesty in writing down the lessons, remorsefulness, gratefulness and joy that lifts the grain.
It didn't start out that way. I had counters to see the traffic and interest, even where the readers resided. I was interested in what they thought. Every story was crafted as a piece of reflective art, an essay 'published' for the world to enjoy clever and purposeful writing. I loved spending my days finding just the right word in the right sentence to make the writing efficient and poignant.
Those early years were barren of meaningful things in my life, and that very good writing was a very good filler. In the years since, I have come to realize most writers are motivated by a) something to link to (reunion info, family info to span long distances); b) a talent to share (music, art, science, photography, travel); c) a strong opinion(historical, social, political); d) something to teach, or e) to find a voice.
I am glad that life is wont to change, because I needed it in a big way. My little blog and I clung to each other through the churning waters that freed my world from the drag of what was pulling me under. All sorts of transitions had to happen in order to purge what had to go and make good on the rest.
A huge part of the change came symbolically when I started using my maiden name as part of my last name. A friend challenged that I was pretending the married years didn't happen. That wasn't it, not at all! But it was time to get out from under the shadow of those years, and regain the half of my life that I most authentically associate with. And now, in marriage, my maiden name has become my formal middle name for just that reason.
There were humiliating losses and wisened, bloody gains but this journey is mine to reflect on and appreciate when I need a boost. And that, for me, is what blogging is all about.
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