Munching

In spite of all the fencing and netting, something is still eating my tomatoes! My gardening "helpline" suggests a couple of different insecticides, so I hope that takes care of the problem. Now you know why we don't do much gardening.

One of Those Days

One day this week, I made a mess with everything I touched. First, I got steak sauce on my pants (pictured here with stain stick added). Then I hurriedly went to put a plastic glass in the dishwasher, unaware that it was half full at the time. Oh well, at least this was just water!

There Are Days...

There are days when this says it all:

On Bailouts and Taxes

Bailing a sinking boat is good,
But let’s not be playing Robin Hood.
I want to keep all that I earn,
Not give it to some fool to burn.

The Bible says, “Don’t work: don’t eat,”
But they give handouts to deadbeats.
So let me keep assets I’ve arranged;
You keep your bailouts, tax, and “change.”

Editorial note: I do realize that some folks are undergoing financial hardship for reasons outside their control; others are victims of their own folly. This post is not directed toward the former group. It is directed toward law-makers (and those who elected them) who would steal from me (taxes) in order to fund bailouts and entitlement programs. For more on this topic, read this insightful article: http://www.americanvision.org/article/obama-and-the-future-economy/

The End of an Era

I began feeling nostalgic this week when this item appeared on our curb.

The suburban city where we live and where I grew up has had, for some thirty-five years, trash receptacles for residents unlike any I have ever seen elsewhere. They're underground. And what's more, I remember when city workers and their equipment came around (I believe in the early 1970s) and dug the holes for installation. The holes have lids that look like this:

Pretty bad, I know. It should be totally green and wholly intact. But it's a great system. You walk to the curb, step on the petal, and drop in your trash bag. Inside the hole there's a large metal trash can that can be lifted out on pick-up day by using a swing-over handle, sort of like a child's sand bucket. Animals can't get to the garbage and make a mess. (There was one time that I found a possum -- not an opossum -- in the underground can, but that's a story for another time.)

We got word at year-end that the city planned to end the underground trash pick up, would issue residents the rolling cans, and would eventually come around to each neighborhood, remove the old cans, and fill up the holes. Like everyone else, the city is having to trim its budget, and the new, rolling cans can be picked up and emptied by a truck, and not by a human being. Plus, they're larger than the in-ground cans, so we'll have service only one day a week instead of the two we now have.

So, that's why I'm feeling nostalgic over trash cans. Sad, isn't it. James is feeling sad too, but for a different reason, and if you've ever been to our house, you'll know why. City ordinance prohibits leaving the rolling cans at curbside except for the evening before, and the day of, trash pick up. So, once a week, he'll have to roll/push/pull the can up our driveway to the street. And I do mean UP! It was hard for me to get a good shot of the incline of our driveway, but this will give you an idea.

A Daunting Task

I'm helping my brother-in-law get the in-laws' house ready for the rental market. He's doing some repairs to the sheetrock, and I'm starting to remove wallpaper from one large, one medium, and one small room. I think b-i-l would have been happy to just leave the wallpaper, and I would have been happy if it had been intact enough to be painted over. It wasn't. I just don't think that this rose-colored (now yellowed) floral wallpaper is going to appeal to any potential renter. It was pretty in its day, but its day was twenty plus years ago! I worked for 2-1/2 hours and then was basically wiped out for the rest of the day. The small, brighter-yellow patch is the only place where the paper is totally gone. Just shoot me now, rather than the slow, painful death I will be putting myself through in the next few weeks.

The Problem with Blogging

The problem with blogging is that you have to think of something to post every single day, or nearly so. There's only so many pictures of my cat people want to see, and I probably exceeded that number some time back. So, I have a problem. Here are some other real-life annoyances. I'm sure you can relate. (By the way, I'm convinced that most of us handle the big problems well; it's the little things that drive us crazy!)

• Discovering you have no wallet (cash, checks, credit/debit cards) after the cashier has rung up a cart full of groceries
• Finishing the laundry and having one unmatched sock
• Not finishing the laundry because the washing machine has quit... full of water and wet clothes
• A rattle in the dashboard of the car
• Plastic, "clam-shell" packaging that cannot be opened without doing yourself bodily harm
• February and March (the dead time between the end of football season and the beginning of baseball season)
• Having a recipe half prepared only to find that you're missing a key ingredient
• Taking an envelope that has to go out immediately to the mailbox and seeing the mailman halfway down the street... past your house

Have I missed a biggie?

It's Hopeless

I'm really, really trying to restore order to the chaos that is my desk at home. The problem is that I need about three times this much space. Usually when I start to organize something, I intuitively know the direction I should take. Not this time. Stay tuned.

Today I bought the Wii fit. After a fruitless online search, I didn't think I'd be able to get one for weeks, but Phillip found the last available one at a games store close by. Here's James attempting the stair-stepping routine. Stay tuned to see if this is a hopeless endeavor as well!

I'm So Disappointed and Somewhat Relieved

I'm disappointed that there's not a single comment on last night's clever post title that was clearly of near-genius inspiration. Sorry, folks. That's the best I can do.

After another lengthy conversation between my personal tech support and Dell tech support this evening, Dell is shipping me a whole new computer. When it arrives, we'll ship back the malfunctioning one... after I remove the white-out from the on button and the CD drive eject button. Everything on the case is black, and I couldn't find the buttons without the white-out!

Dell and Hamnation

A couple of days ago, I rejoiced in the acquisition of a new computer. Hold that thought. Said computer is malfunctioning. On Saturday, on two or three different occasions, the whole system locked up when I was trying to install via the CD drive. Earlier this evening, my personal tech support put in a call to Dell, and since then, a diagnostics function has been running. It coughed up an error message, at which time I nabbed this borrowed laptop, and hightailed it out of Dodge. My personal tech support does this kind of stuff all day long at work, so it's not really what he wants to do when he gets home. Love buys me what I'm sure money couldn't. Stay tuned to learn if Dell repents and recovers from the errors of its ways.

Terrible Tuesday

I'm writing this from my office at work at 5:25 p.m. and the trip home does not appear on the horizon. Our primary software went down around 1 p.m. today, and I've been working on the problem ever since. Right now, the data base is backing up so that I can then attempt a rebuild of the data. The backup is about 75% complete, but it's been running for two hours. I have no idea how long the rebuild will take. I probably will leave when the rebuild starts, but if something goes awry, then when everyone arrives in the morning, they still won't be able to work. Nothing like having six people on the payroll sitting around doing nothing.

Maniac Monday

I enjoy reading, particularly mysteries. My gripe is that so many modern-day authors* do not seem to understand that there are readers out there who do not want to read about hedonistic immorality nor graphic gore. Is it too much to ask today's writer not to use "the F word" on every page?! Good grief. I've always contended that those who use profanity do so because they haven't the vocabulary to express themselves otherwise. Case in point: I'm currently rereading The Spanish Cape Mystery, an Ellery Queen title with a 1935 copyright date. The investigating police inspector is frustrated by the victim's audacity in getting himself murdered. "For some seconds, he [the inspector] expressed himself with violence and fluency, describing the nature, habits, temperament, and antecedents (probable) of John Marco with a comprehensiveness, lucidity, and imagery that shocked Judge Macklin and caused Ellery's eyes to widen with admiration." (page 161) Bravo. Not a single profane word in that sentence, but the meaning is abundantly clear.

* Footnotes:

• Here's a way I have devised to find a decent library book in the mystery section: I look for the oldest copyright dates I can find, and I look for an author who has more than a couple of titles on the shelf. When I find an author I like exceptionally well, the books are usually out of print, so I'll go in search of them in used bookstores, either physical ones or cyberworld ones.
• A good many contemporary titles I've read do omit profanity and graphic butchery, but they've managed to omit a complex and satisfying plot as well. I recently read a bestselling author's mystery that is set in a bakery. The writing was bland and the conclusion predictable, but there were a number of cookie recipes included, so the purchase wasn't a total loss.

Mellow Monday

Today was one of those rare days when there's not much to do and all day to do it in. I went to CVS this morning and got these three items. The lipsticks were both free, and I paid $0.49 for the Dawn. I had heard rumblings that many CVS stores are no longer giving out the monthly sales circulars, and sure 'nuff, the new one wouldn't give me one -- they would only let me look at it in the store. Another CVS store let me have it, though. At the second store, I found a two-pack of propane in the 75% off summer stuff. I also went to Publix and saved 49.76%. The savings would have been over 50% if I hadn't bought bananas that weren't on sale at all. I did a bit of sewing, watched the Braves lose (again), and grilled some hamburgers and hot dogs.

Since it is Maniac Monday, I should comment on one or two things that drive me crazy: Wanting to buy 1/2 gallon of skim milk that lasts me for a week, but finding that all the "sell by" dates are only 3-4 days away; not being able to sell my radio prize of Falcons season tickets.

Terrible Tuesday on Wednesday

Invoking my previously proclaimed privilege, I had my Terrible Tuesday today. I won't even begin to go into all the reasons why it was not a good day at work. At one point, I needed to chill, so I got some chocolate, went into my boss's office, and watched cartoons with his small son. My boss knew some of the issues involved, and knew I was about to have a melt-down, so he wisely didn't say a word while I watched Sylvester in his futile attempts to catch and consume Tweetie. Cartoon Therapy. You should try it sometime.

Maniac Monday

Last week, I wrote a paragraph about some language usage that drives me crazy. Today, the theme is similar, but it particularly applies to the spoken language.

1. "Thank you." "No problem." In case you are under thirty (forty?) and unsure, the appropriate response to "Thank you" is "You're welcome." If you are a native Jamaican or you are actually in Jamaica when you are thanked, then "No problem, mon" would be acceptable.
2. "Let me ax you a question." If I placed my question on a chopping block, then you could certainly ax it if you chose. Since I can't recall ever spitting a question onto a chopping block, I would prefer that you ask me a question.
3. "Where is the book at?" Superfluous, superfluous. "Where is the book?" is the correct question. When I was growing up, if my mother heard this question, her response was always, "Between the A and the T." I throw in that historical tidbit so that you'll know that some of my idiosyncrasies can't be helped; they're genetic.
4. "I wish I would of thought of that." Would HAVE. Don't make me send you to my daughter for remedial grammar lessons. (Refer back to # 3 for genetics warning.)
   
5. "Do you want some chocolate?" Some questions just don't even need to be axed.

Terrible Tuesday

The most terrible thing I can think of that happened today is that I forgot to bring home the work I was going to do tonight. On the terribleness scale, that rates somewhere between split ends and a run in my hose.

GRIPE: I missed out on the CVS chocolate deal last week. By the time I went shopping on Saturday, the two stores I went to didn't have any Dove chocolate left. Not having chocolate is a major terribleness, up there with earthquakes and floods.

GOODY: A new CVS store with a 24-hour pharmacy opened on Sunday. I've already switched one of my prescriptions there because it's on my way to work. It's nice to pick up a prescription on my schedule and without deviating from my regular flight path.

GRIPE: The new CVS store is about midway between Emily and me. I'll have to get there ahead of her or there still won't be any chocolate to be found.

GOODY: She is my offspring after all.

Maniac Monday

Instead of listing things that drive me crazy, I wrote a paragraph instead. Think of it as the body of a friendly letter… the kind that you had to write for practice when you were in school.

The family is doing like, really fine. I was like, really happy, to get your last letter. The letter was like fine, but it’s envelope was torn. I hope you’ll be like, really happy to get my letter to. Your not going to believe what happened in school. The teacher had like the boy’s and girl’s in seperate line's. I had ran to get in line, but I like tripped because all the boy’s had there feet in the aisle!!!!! I hope the boy’s will watch out next time their so careless but I am allright. I didn’t even loose my temper. Just between you and I, boy’s definately shouldn’t join are club. Goodby for now.

Terrible Tuesday

Don't worry... I don't plan on having a Terrible Tuesday every week! But after 3+ weeks of sinus drainage and accompanying sore throat, and feeling really bad for the last several days, I finally went to my ENT doctor today for yet another round of antibiotics and steroids. He prescribed an experimental treatment available through the Mayo Clinic, but whether or not I take it depends on if it is covered by insurance, and if not, what it costs. Film at 11.

I got a new catalog in the mail today from Keepsake Quilting. I love their stuff. It made me start thinking of the local quilt show that I've attended in September for some time now. Alas, it is only every other year, on the odd years. So, I pulled up a picture of a "horse blanket" that I saw there three years ago.

Maniac Monday

People who are long-term, regular bloggers always seem to have particular days, usually with some catchy heading, when they post on recurring themes. For example, there's Menu Plan Monday and Works for Me Wednesday out there. Since my menu planning consists of arriving home between 5:45 - 6:00 p.m. and then scrounging around in the freezer for some heat and serve meal that I've bought, that wouldn't make for much of a post. Works for Me Wednesday seems to be all about household management and child-rearing tips, and I am so over that. What works for me on any and all household tasks is what takes the least amount of time and effort. I'll even pay more to achieve those effects.

So, I've decided I'll try out Maniac Monday. It will be about things that absolutely drive me crazy. Maybe I'll aim for 10 each Monday. I'll probably run out of material by the time I'm 107.

1. Kids running wild in stores with Mama right there ignoring instead of correcting them.
2. Mamas "correcting" their children in stores by demeaning them.
3. Customer Service Reps, in person or on the phone, who are chewing gum and not making at least some small effort to conceal it.
4. Children ages four - seventeen who "have to go" in the middle of a worship service.
5. Parents over the age of fourteen who permit the children who "have to go" to go.
6. Having to vacuum the ceilings at my house because of the stippling that collects dust bunnies.
7. Automated answering options that require callers to make more than two or three selections before connecting to a live person, especially if that caller is me, and double especially if pressing "0" doesn't get me out of the endless loop.
8. Women's clothing, unlike men's, that cannot be purchased by sleeve length or inseam. (In my lifetime, I've worn plenty of flood pants and 3/4 sleeve shirts that weren't supposed to be.)
9. Little, yappy dogs who yap continually at nothing, especially if they reside next door to me.
   
10. Little, yappy dogs who learn to avoid the range of a super soaker.

Desk Duty

I forget whether a cluttered desk is supposed to be a sign of genius or of insanity. I know that I qualify for one, perhaps both. Your choice. At any rate, it's not all my fault. I spent most of the day cleaning house, but I didn't get to my desk. So just about the time I sit down to start dealing with the clutter, James flips to the History Channel which is airing a show about chocolate. Now I have to go get a bowl of ice cream to add to the jumble. The other disclaimer is that it's not all my own junk, though I do claim the glass of iced tea and the smiling stuffed kitty. I've got most or all of my in-laws' paperwork, too. My mother-in-law gave me another stuffed-full 10 x 12 envelope of papers this week. At least some of this is headed for the trash. Look closely, and you'll see why.

GOODY: I won a pretty significant prize by calling in at the right time with the right answer to a local radio station today. I'll give all the details after I pick up the prize next Friday.