3450 Jasper is snoring, so no title.

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle
will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.
-- The Buddha --

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Along about January 18th I got a bit concerned about Jasper. He ate some dry food, drank a little water, then promptly threw it all up. He did that once in the morning and once in the evening. Cats are famous for throwing up, but Jasper almost never throws up - probably because he almost never grooms himself, so he doesn't ingest fur. This was a new cat food, and maybe it didn't agree with him, or he didn't like it.

He seemed ok until the next evening, when I noticed he hadn't nibbled at his food since morning. The day after that I noticed that there was no new poopy in the litter box. By then it was Friday evening. He didn't seem to be uncomfortable, and his belly felt like the usual birthday balloon. If he wasn't eating, no poop wouldn't be odd. He was still drinking water and piddling.

Was he blocked? Or just registering a stubborn rejection of the new (good for kidneys, which automatically means cats will hate it) food?

Saturday, Sunday, no eating, no pooping. I decided to call the traveling "vet in a van" on Monday.

Monday morning there was poop in the litter. Why do pets and kids always get sickest just before the weekend, when you go nuts wondering what you should do, then they're all better on Monday? (Ok, not just pets and kids. If I'm going to have any kind of emergency attack, it'll happen on a weekend. Always.)

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I've given up on "lose" and "loose". Even professional writers don't seem capable of figuring it out any more. Now there's a new one. Five times in the past three days, in five different places, I've seen "mirrow" when the writer meant "mirror".

I am depressed.

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I read a natural science article on ravens and crows. I used to enjoy watching the crows from my back deck at the old house. They're playful acrobats, and smart. There were ravens on one of the trails I used to walk. They're sober, and even smarter.

I've seen the ravens at the Tower of London. Their wings are clipped, so they can't fly far, to keep them from leaving because of some old prophesy that when the ravens leave the tower, the monarchy will fall. "If the Tower of London ravens are lost or fly away, the Crown will fall and Britain with it."

Funny how nobody ever questions that prophesy. How would the ravens leaving affect the monarchy?

Leave your theories in the comments. I'll tell why tomorrow.
.

3449 Jasper says, "Catnip?"

Sunday, January 29, 2012

A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking.
-- Steven Wright --

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I don't seem to be updating much lately. Don't know why. Oh, well....

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Back when I was choosing my new glasses and lenses, the rep talked me out of progressives. After I had researched progressives and realized she had given me very good advice probably at the cost of a larger sale, I wrote a letter to LensCrafters' corporate complimenting her.

Early last week I went in to pick up the gold glasses, that they had told me would take about two weeks. They took a lot less. I was fitted by the store manager. He was really nice. The glasses were perfect, and then they replaced the badly-cut lenses in the silver frames, and they were perfect, too. Then as I stood up to leave, he said, "I want to thank you for the letter you wrote to corporate. That was really nice of you."

Wow. I thought it would be anonymous. Well, I've accidentally discovered the way to get great and fast service, I guess.

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I still don't understand men's ties. They've got to be more idiotic than women's high heels (although not as idiotic as those stupid platform shoes). And if you absolutely have to wear the tie because it's "traditional" and says "serious business attire", then what the heck is wrong with clip-on ties? Does it HAVE to be difficult and uncomfortable to count?

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I watched "Driving Miss Daisy" on cable a few days ago, and was shocked by something I missed the first umpteen times I'd watched it. I think it was probably the late '60s when the son gave the chauffeur a $75/week raise. It knocked me over. In the late '60s a teacher's starting salary was $4,500 per YEAR! The usual decent raise was $300 per YEAR! When I started with IBM, a programmer made about $9,000 per year.

I think I went into the wrong profession.

I mentioned it to Daughter, and she said quite seriously that when she graduated from college with the engineering degree in three areas, chauffeurs were earning more than she, and she had seriously considered switching careers.

Now, I think the chauffeur's raise in the movie had more to do with appreciation for his care for Miss Daisy than with the job, but although he showed appreciation for the amount, his reaction was not like he'd just won a million-dollar lottery, which is more like it. It was his "Wow. OK. Thanks." reaction that floored me.

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I had a brief discussion re macular degeneration with Zarina in the comments on a previous post. I agree with her that sometimes it can move quickly, and I'll need to have it checked often. Later I remembered something.

I'm trying to remember when it was. Jay was alive and healthy, so it must have been before 1998. My vision plan didn't cover optometrists but did cover ophthalmologists, so when it was time for a new prescription, I went to an ophthalmologist. I don't remember exactly what he said, but he did mention macular degeneration, both eyes, very small, nothing to worry about, but --- he gave me a square grid with a dot in the middle. I was to put it on the wall somewhere that I'd see it every day (I put it on the refrigerator), and I was to call him immediately if the lines ever got wavy.

It was there for years, got aged, stained, and tattered, and then one day somebody "helped" me by cleaning all the junk off the refrigerator (yeah, Daughter, I'm looking at you), and the grid disappeared. (The opthalmologist had died suddenly a few years before, and the scandal in the village was that his landlord had thrown out all his records.) I didn't bother replacing the grid.

Between then and now, probably 15 years or more, I've had four or five exams, all with dilation, some with ophthalmologists and some with optometrists, and no one has mentioned macular degeneration until this recent one.

So, it doesn't seem to be progressing. And the spots are in exactly the same place in both eyes, so it might even be congenital. Evidence arguing for a congenital spot of insufficient blood supply is that every ophthalmologist and optometrist I've ever seen since the age of 12 has remarked that they can't get me to 20-20.

So I doubt that it's a big deal. On the other hand, I have to watch for the effects of age, so it's a good idea to get an eye exam every year and mention that they should look for it.
.

3448 Jasper says "Cat Outside!"

Monday, January 23, 2012

Done is better than perfect.

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Investment newsletters will usually tell you that during retirement you will need about 80% of your final pay to maintain your lifestyle. They go on to point out that it's less than 100% because you don't need to support a work wardrobe and will no longer have commuting expenses.

Bull poopy.

I guess they think you'll be just sitting in your house watching TV for the rest of your life. Doesn't work that way. You'll want to be active, and it doesn't matter whether it's golf, or classes, or volunteering, there'll still be expenses. Even more if you want to finally travel - even if it's only to visit the grandbabies. And they don't seem to consider inflation, either. I sometimes wonder if the people who write this advice are kids, who think 65-year-olds are decrepit and happy to just sit and knit.

The following is the scariest part. It's from a newsletter from the IBM 401(k) Plus Plan (an aside - "Plus" what?). It's absolutely discouraging, especially since corporations, IBM included, are gradually doing away with retirement plans in favor of personal savings plans.

"Someone who saves 12% annually over a 40-year career could expect to have enough savings to replace 40% of their pre-retirement income, according to Russell Research."

Um, you said I'd need 80% (and I think that's low; I think you need 100% or more if you plan to live through another 20 years of inflation), so where's the other 40-60% supposed to come from? Social Security? Not if the Repulsicans have their way and sh*t-can Social security.

Shortly after I retired, IBM announced that for people hired after a certain date, they were no longer going to maintain a retirement fund and pay a monthly retirement. Instead they were giving people a lump sum which employees would manage as savings toward retirement, with some kind of matching plan. (But, um, they didn't get raises to put into that fund to be matched, duh, so this was effectively a pay cut....)

It doesn't matter that when those people were hired they were promised retirement. Same as when I actually retired I was promised free lifetime health care. Yeah, sure. There was fine print, saying that the company could change the terms in any way at any time.

My friend Nancy had 22+ years in, and was 59 years old when they "lump sum"ed her. Know how much she got toward her retirement? $125,000. Total. She is now retired, and living with her daughter and son-in-law.

There's a lot wrong with all of that.

You'll have to save more than 12%. More like 25-30%. Nobody is paying anyone below the executive level enough to easily save 30%. Raises aren't happening - companies are pleading bottom line (even as the execs get multi-million dollar bonuses). The government is allowing companies to do away with retirement plans. Conservatives seem to consider social security to be some kind of welfare, without realizing that social security, since its inception, has allowed corporations to reduce what retirement incentives they had to offer to get the best workers. Corporations don't have to offer incentives any more. They are allowed to import workers and export jobs with impunity. The Man says there are very few "Americans" working with him these days. But the corporations still get huge tax breaks, and now with unlimited contributions they can buy all the politicians they want.

There's a LOT wrong with all of that.

--------------------------------

Note - I am fully aware that no matter how much or how little you are paid, you CAN save 30%. I did it the first three years after I left Ex#2 because I was scared sh*tless. Daughter and I ate beans and hot dogs, I made my clothes, she wore hand-me-downs, and she didn't get the name-brand stuff to keep up with the "in" kids at school. It can be done. But it was hard, it hurt, and it needn't have, shouldn't have.
.

3447 Rabbit skins.

Sunday, January 21, 2012

If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried.
-- Steven Wright --

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I wear bifocals. The old style, with the visible line at the top of the bifocal section. People have been telling me I should get the progressives, where the division is not apparent, that the line "ages" me.

When I ordered these new lenses, I asked for progressives. They cost more, and the rep would get more sales credit for selling them, but I have to admire her honesty. She strongly recommended against them. She said I would hate them.

There is a large difference between my far and close prescriptions, so the "progressive" part, where the two blend, would be large. In that "shading in part", there would be a wide area of distortion, both at the top and the sides of that area. I would lose a significant amount of peripheral vision, and the close vision area would be much reduced. Right now I go from far to close with little eye or head movement. With the progressives there would be a jump where neither close nor far worked and I would have to move my head more.

If you get progressives when you first start needing bifocals, the difference is small, and the distortion is minimal. You get used to it. Your brain learns to ignore that area. And as the close correction goes up and the far correction goes down gradually as you get older (which is what happens), each increment is easy to absorb. But to suddenly jump into progressives now, she said, I'd never be able to adjust. They'd drive me crazy. The blur in the middle of my field would have me tripping over curbs.

I had already made it clear to her that I like a wide and deep visual field, and that I watch TV and do needlework at the same time, and therefore the looking down required by those skinny weasel glasses, as opposed to simply dropping my eyes slightly, would quickly make me seasick. She heard me and understood.

So, I'm staying with the little old lady visible lines. I like seeing well better than looking good. Vanity is a sometimes thing with me, easily tossed when not advantageous. If I really want the illusion of youth, I'll get a neck and face lift.

*******
[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Progressive_lens#Disadvantages] It's explained there, in almost the same way she said it.

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Here and there and everywhere I'd been hearing about "Say Yes to the Dress". It's on Friday nights on one of those high-number cable channels. There's not much else on Friday nights, so I watched it three or four times.

It takes place in a fancy wedding dress store, where consultants help you find the perfect dress. The most common phrase from the brides is, "I want to feel beautiful". And then there's frustration, tears, pushing or snorts from their "support" - bridesmaids, sisters, mothers and future MILs - until finally The Dress makes her Feel Beautiful.

I don't understand. Your man doesn't make you feel even more beautiful?

Then there's the whole enormous cost of fancy weddings, which I don't understand. I've already ranted about couples with three kids who haven't gotten married yet because they "can't afford it".

But mostly I don't understand the dresses the consultants put on these women.

An apple-shaped woman (read big round belly) should have a fitted bodice, then a high empire waist that flows smoothly straight down in a soft flowing fabric with slight gathering, and narrows just above the ankle. It will make her look taller, slimmer, regal, and plays up her best features, which are her face and bust. Most heavy women have great lower legs, so she could even go to knee length. But over and over, they come out in dresses that are tight tight tight to mid thigh, then poof out into a tulle mermaid bottom. Worse, the tight upper part is "ruched" (I hate that word - whatever happened to gathered!) which is supposed to be "slimming" but never is and that makes her look even bulkier.

I don't understand why all the dresses these days seem to be strapless. I thought a bridal dress was supposed to look virginal, or at least modest, especially for a religious ceremony. I went to the David's Bridal website to check, and yeah, dresses with sleeves or even just covered shoulders are rare and special order. Aren't long lace sleeves beautiful?

I don't understand why so many dresses have that bunched up look to the skirts, you know, those random tucks.

Most of them look like if you dyed them pink, they could be '60s prom dresses.

I dunno. Maybe my age is showing. (Hey! You! Get off my lawn!)

Me? Three weddings. The first had one week's preparation. Ex#1 was in the army and had come home on leave for my college graduation, and declared he was not returning, was going AWOL, until I married him. I didn't want to, but I was incapable of "being responsible for his going to jail". I looked to my mother to say no (I wasn't 21, the legal age), but it was like she translated "he wants to elope" into "we're gonna have a wedding!" and went into action. I was married in a knee-length straight-skirted sleeveless cocktail dress, white lace over satin, and a short veil. There was even an official reception, my mother's side of the family and my parents' friends. I invited no friends. Nobody said anything about my inviting friends. I think my mother thought it was her party.

Ex#2. I wore a pale blue dress, suitable for the office, and a blue Jackie O pillbox hat with an eyebrow veil. Church ceremony followed by a dinner with friends of ours from the office, and members of his family.

Jay, the one that really counted. Judge's chambers. I wore a turtleneck sweater and jeans. Jay wore jeans, too. The "reception" was Jay and me, and our two witnesses: Daughter and a friend of hers, dinner at a local steakhouse.

I think maybe someday I'll pretend I'm getting married, and go to a fancy bridal shoppe and try on dresses. Just to see if they do have some kind of magic. No way I'd ever pay for one, even if I were getting married, but ... just to see if I suddenly Feel Beautiful(er).
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3446 Peanut Butter (Jasper isn't feeling original today...)

Saturday, January 21, 2012

A way to take up more space is with perfume.
-- Andy Warhol --

Hmmmm. I never thought of it that way, but yes, it's true.
Perfume almost shouts "This is MY space!"

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There are windows on either side of my front door. As I come down the stairs I can see driveway, lawn, street, houses through the sheer curtains. This morning I was confused. I couldn't see anything but white. Something on the porch obstructing the view?

Snow. Our first real snow of the winter. I didn't measure, but it looks like maybe four inches or so. I don't know if I'll shovel the driveway. It will be in the 40s or low 50s on Monday. On the other hand, I'm out of yogurt, eggs, veggies, and laundry detergent.

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Well, the end of another week when I felt very busy, but have accomplished very little.

I had three things on the to-do list last Monday morning:

1. Deposit a check at the bank.
2. Call the doctor and see if they got the results of the urine culture, and if so, get the antibiotic prescription filled.
3. Go to the optometrist and get my eyes dilated to complete the exam, and pick out some frames, get new glasses.

Well, the bank wasn't open, being as it was a holiday, so that left two.

The doctor's office said they'd mail the prescription. No, they don't call pharmacies. "Mail? Egads! I want it NOW!" So I said I'd come in and pick it up. She said after 2 pm, after the doctor comes in. Ok.

Monday of last week, when I knew I'd be getting a prescription for the UTI, I had looked for my prescription insurance card. IBM has changed the carrier. I found the letter saying I would get my 2012 card at the end of December. I never got it. I called, and IBM forwarded the call to CVS Caremark, and the guy there said they'd send me a new card (which, by the way, 12 days later, STILL has not arrived), but in the meantime I could just have my local CVS call Caremark, and they'd verify my insurance and give them the number.

Went to optometrist (her office is in the LensCrafter store). I'd had the exam before Christmas, but she said she couldn't get me to 20-20, so she wanted to dilate my eyes to see why. Surprise. In each eye I have a small spot of age-related macular degeneration. She says it's common at my age and my spots are small and not a big deal, but we'll want to watch them, and I need to eat more dark green veggies.

Then I went to the LensCrafter section to pick out some frames. I always get two pair. As I explained to the saleslady, if my car breaks, I can rent one. If my glasses break, I can't rent or borrow. I need a backup.

I wanted a pair that wouldn't clash with silver jewelry, and one for with gold jewelry. In the past, I'd get like a neutral brown, but they didn't have anything like that, and besides my hair is too light now for brown. I want a very lightweight-looking frame, like the frameless ones, or with just the top frame and the cord around the bottom. I wanted metal, not plastic. And I definitely don't want those stupid narrow weasel glasses! I want a large visual area so I don't have to move my head just to look up and down. I watch TV and do needlework at the same time, and I'd get seasick in weasel glasses.

That all narrowed my choices to a few. (Note - remind me to select frames BEFORE getting dilated next time.)

Now, the silver ones were horribly expensive (Tiffany & Co., made in Italy? Close to $400 list), but were on sale at about a 50% discount. The gold ones were less expensive than the silver, even with the sale. My vision insurance pays 100% for one pair of glasses, including frames and lenses. I wanted to use the insurance for the silver, BUT the saleslady told me I could EITHER get the sales discount, OR use the insurance, but not both.

Huh? Is that even legal? They're on sale, but not if you use insurance? Um, what if I paid the sale price for them and then submitted the receipt to the insurance company? Will LensCrafters even know?

She said I had to use the insurance on the gold pair. My eyes were dilated. I felt confused. I decided to figure it out later.

I think something else went wrong there, too. I'm supposed to get 100% coverage for one pair, but I think I got $100 off. Not the same at all! Given that my lenses alone are over $260, something's wrong there. I have to sit down and look at the receipt and figure it out, call the insurance company, go back and have LensCrafters explain the receipt to me, raise a little hell.

Well, they had in stock only one pair of lenses that would fit the silver frames, and that would take an hour or two. They had NO lenses in stock for the gold ones, they would take two weeks to come in.

So I drove to the doctor's office to pick up the prescription for the UTI, then the other direction to the CVS to get it filled. When I told the guy behind the counter that he'd have to call Caremark about my insurance, he said the woman who handles insurance was not there, so they couldn't fill the prescription until she came in, in about two hours. So then I went back to LensCrafters. Where I sat and waited for an hour until my glasses were ready.

By the time I got the new glasses, it was 4:00 pm. My eyes take a very long time to go down from dilation, so I can't see any detail, and I can't drive when headlights start to come on, even with sunglasses. The CVS was only slightly out of my way going home, so I went back there.

The clerk who "does insurance" wasn't there, sick child or something. "Come back tomorrow." I had a small fit, so they gave me five pills (of the 20 on the prescription), no charge, "That'll hold you until we can fill it."

I drove the 2 miles home very carefully and slowly because every oncoming car was a supernova in my eyeballs.

By 10 pm my pupils had gone down enough for me to notice that the groove in the bottom of the new left lens was incomplete, so that the lens was sitting on top of the nylon cord instead of the cord being tightly in the (nonexistent) groove. Guaranteed that the lens would pop out eventually. And the top of the same lens had a rough spot where it met the frame. Unacceptable. I'll have to go back to LensCrafters.

So at the end of Monday, my to-do list for Tuesday was:

1. Deposit a check at the bank.
   
2. Get the antibiotic prescription filled.
   
3. Get new glasses fixed.

Look familiar?

Tuesday morning. Had to be home by 12:45 to babysit Nugget. Deposited checks. Went ok. Then to LensCrafters. They recut the groove and reset the lens. That's ok now. The rep said that it was just a bit of plastic and wax at the top of the lens that made it look rough. They cleaned that off and handed the glasses back to me.

Uh, no. With that filler gone, it is now obvious that the lens is badly cut on the top. There's an actual space between the top center and the far left corner of the lens and the frame. The lens meets the frame in only two spots across the top. The rep said it was not noticeable and would hold just fine. I pointed out that for what those glasses cost, I have a right to perfection, "...and this ain't it!"

So they're ordering new lenses. I get to go back in a week or two.

Then to CVS. They searched for my pills. Nope, no bag anywhere with my name on it. They finally found the prescription form. It had not yet been filled, because "the woman who does the insurance isn't in yet, come back at 2 pm."

I had a minor fit. This is my third trip already. And I'd have the Nugget all afternoon. The pharmacist then came over and said that I already had five pills (down to three since I'd taken one last night and one this morning) and that should hold me until they got it straightened out.

At that point I confess I lied. Calmly.

I said I was leaving town that evening, returning Friday, and three pills wasn't going to cut it, and there's no reason for them to not at least TRY calling. ANYONE can call Caremark! All you need is for them to verify that I do have the insurance and the plan number is whatever!"

So a clerk called. And guess what?

Caremark couldn't find me in the computer.

The problem is an old one. My last name is one of those European double names, acquired from Ex#2. He always writes it with a blank between the two parts. I always write it with no blank - all one word - because as two separate words it confuses computers and alphabetization. And because I'm smarter than Ex#2.

For some dumb fool reason (probably because IBM is so patriarchal), the blank pops up occasionally in IBM benefits processing, particularly randomly in the medical plans, because that's where I was "connected" to him having been under his plan for a while, even though we've been divorced for 29 years. That's a subject for another rant.

So when I realized what the problem might be, as he was about to hang up, I said "Try it with a blank", and they found me in the system, and I got my pills, and I made it home in time to keep the Nugget for the afternoon.

(Incidentally, they gave me the full 20 pills, although I already had been given 5. This could be a serious mistake depending on the prescription. Probably not serious for Cipro, though, so I'm not going to say anything to anyone and just take them all. Two and a half more days of antibiotic probably won't hurt and might help. I figure they owe me something for jerking me around.)

Fred the van has been in the shop since last Saturday. The guy called yesterday, and they're going to have to find a junkyard part that's no longer manufactured by Dodge, and even then they may have to fudge some stuff to get Fred to pass inspection. So they still have him.

The whole week has gone like that. Everything has taken longer than it should, or had to be postponed for other silly crap. Sometimes I wonder why I bother to try to organize my life with to-do lists. And goals. And plans. The rest of the world refuses to cooperate.
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3445 Foiled again!

Friday, January 13, 2012

Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.
-- Steven Wright --

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Packing for flying:

If you don't like the idea of strangers handling your packed intimates, there's an easy way to discourage it and still not annoy them.

Buy gallon sized ziplock bags.

Fold your clothes to fit the bags, and pack everything in the bags in such a way that it's obvious what's in the bag, and so that the bags are flexible. A week's worth of panties will fit in one bag. If you wear underwire bras, put fewer in a bag so that the wires can be felt for what they are. Three or four t-shirts, or two turtle neck sweaters, one pair of jeans, or two or three shorts, and so on. Socks should go into a ziplock flat, not rolled, so they can be felt easily. If there are any hard parts, like buckles or decorated areas, fold the item so the hard stuff is on top and visible through the plastic.

If they can see and feel what's in the bags, they won't open them.

Everything else can go in bags, too. Actually, that makes it easier to settle at your destination and to unpack when you get home. Put things like shampoo, toothpaste, deodorant, etc. in your shoes, which should then go into OPEN clear plastic bags, not ziplocks. They will get annoyed if they have to actually open a ziplock.

Carry expensive jewelry with you. Costume jewelry in the suitcase, and anything else that might look tempting, goes into a large ziplock with a piece of cardboard the size of the ziplock. That makes it harder to "accidentally" drop or pocket something.

On your return trip, the temptation is to just jumble dirty clothes. Uh uh. Fold them neatly into the ziplocks, exactly as when you set out, so it's not obvious those are used panties.

They don't check every bag, by the way. The threat of opening the bag is enough to keep the average person in check. Of course, they seem to forget it's not the average person's suitcase that needs checking.... (Oh, yeah, for a moment there I forgot what the REAL purpose is.)
.

3444 Squirrels

Friday, January 13, 2012

Expectation is the root of all heartache.
-- William Shakespeare --

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Four metal tissue holders bound for a Bed Bath & Beyond store in California triggered a radiation alarm at a truck weighing station. It turns out the whole shipment was made from contaminated metal. (They don't say, but I wonder if the metal came from Japan.)

The shipment came in from India through the Port of Newark. Have you ever seen a shipping container? They're huge. How many tissue holders would be in one container?

So, if four holders inside a truck can set off an alarm, how can an entire shipping container full of them escape detection?

Oh! Oh! I know! Ask me! Nobody is checking for shipments of radioactive materials! I mean, how difficult can it be? Wave a magic wand as they roll off the ship.

It serves political purposes (and the military-corporate complex) to natter about "dirty bombs" being set off in cities. Stuff like that instills a fear level that keeps us compliant and willing to give up control to those who claim to keep us safe.

Next time you're being groped at a TSA checkpoint, or your suitcase is being rifled and your packed panties sniffed, remember that the purpose is not to find contraband, but to keep you fearful and compliant. To both literally and figuratively keep you in line. To impress upon you that government agencies know best and you can't argue with them.

Shipping containers don't need groping because they can't be made fearful.

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Recall: If you bought metal tissue holders from BBB since July, call Bed, Bath & Beyond at 1-800-462-3966.
.

3443 Peanut Butter

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Hard work pays off in the future; laziness pays off now.
-- Steven Wright --

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Daughter has some decisions to make. Her job: She gets a call when a client is scheduled, and goes in then, a few times a week. So her job-related babysitting needs are sporadic. I had told her I'd babysit for things like doctor's appointments or whatever, or when she and Hercules need an evening out, but that she was not to use me for job babysitting. I need flexibility, and she must treat babysitting for work as a professional thing, set up some kind of business arrangement.

Well, she's going crazy finding sitters. She's been depending on neighbors and friends, and she's paying $10 per hour. One by one the sitters are dropping out. One had a mild heart attack which resulted in surgery. One has a young daughter who continues to treat Nugget like her personal rag doll despite Daughter's requests for closer supervision (I had noticed long ago that after the Nugget had been there, she flinches at any quick movement). One smokes in the house when Nugget is there, now that it's getting colder and outside is inconvenient. One is a total ditz. Friends are starting to be too busy.

So Daughter is now looking into day care centers, for three days a week (Daughter would prefer two, but three is the least any of them will do), and for a multitude of reasons she's not happy with what she's finding. Daughter doesn't trust immunizations, so she's been delaying them as long as possible. Although Nugget is now 8.5 months old, she's only up to the 4 month level on her shots. (Actually, I agree with Daughter. I think they give some of those shots way too early. And NJ is nuts - they require way too many.) Anyway, the licensed centers won't take babies that aren't up to date on their shots.

I suggested interviewing granny nannies who wouldn't mind a few dollars a week on an as-needed basis.

It's only going to get harder. Hercules' new assignment is going to require every other month in Europe. He was able to negotiate it down from two months there and two here.

She's got options-
Get Nugget up on the immunizations for day care, or
Interview casual grannies, or
Quit work until Nugget is ready for nursery school, or
Finish a room in her basement where she can work, but for that she still needs a sitter, or
Sell jewelry on Etsy (temporary change of career), or
Both quit their jobs, move to and find work in Reading, Pa., and then use his family for sitting.
(His family is putting pressure on him to do just that.)

I swore I would not step in and fix this, but that last option really scares me - I just bought this house and am nowhere near selling the old one - I CAN'T move again, and there's no way I'm staying here if they move away. I haven't said anything like that to them, but it's freaking me out. His family has enormous influence on him. When things were going fine here, he was able to resist them, but with the Europe thing and Daughter under pressure, he may cave.

So, this week I am the work sitter. I had the Nugget four hours Tuesday, five yesterday, I'll have her Friday afternoon, and as of now, two days next week. At Daughter's house, Nugget can pretty much roam free, and she seems to be happy puttering around. Here she needs constant supervision, and for some reason demands constant attention (probably because the separation anxiety is higher), and won't nap because it's not her room and not her bed, which means she gets overtired and fussy. So I can't do anything else when she's here. Yesterday I didn't eat lunch until after 5. So it looks like I'll be sitting over there from now on, where I'll have a little more freedom to get things done, but ... what? Everything that needs doing is here, not there.

Sigh.

I'm sighing a lot lately.

Sigh.
.

3442 Mousies?

Monday, January 9, 2012

"An education isn't how much you have committed to memory,
or even how much you know. It's being able to differentiate between
what you do know and what you don't."
-- Anatole France --

------------------------------------------------------

I found the above whilst wandering around the ether. Both sites credited where they got them, and I followed the links, and followed the next crediting link, and the next, and so on, so deep that I gave up. Tineye will give me a list of all the places they appear, but again, where's the original source? The moral: if you originate something, watermark it across the middle. Otherwise you'll lose it to the world. Also, if when everybody copied something they credited the originator instead of the last place they found it, then that link would travel with the item and always be known.

It seems so simple....

--------------------------------

This is Tim Wise, and "The Pathology of White Privilege". It's an hour long, but well worth the time. Bookmark it or something, and then the next time you're thinking about watching a movie, or turning the radio on, listen to this instead. Yeah, listen. There are no visuals beyond him talking, so you can listen while your hands and eyes are busy with something else. He starts out with race, but it expands to our relationship with the rest of the world.


[http://youtu.be/Y2mjvFNOwmc]

-------------------------------

I bought Jasper an undercover mouse. He's very timid, so I left it on the floor without turning it on for a few days so he'd get used to it. When I did turn it on, he was fascinated by it. He crouched 18 inches from it and stared at it, eyes big, ears up, tail twitching.

And that's pretty much it. Eighteen inches, and watches it.

At the old house, we got field mice, and I could tell when one was in the house because Jasper would be "on point", staring under a bookcase or behind a door. I'd say, "Mousie, Jasper?", and he'd always look up and answer "Mew mew!" A different meow from the many voices he has for specific situations.

When he was staring at the undercover mouse, I said, "Mousie, Jasper? Get the mousie!" He looked up and said "Mew mew!" Several times.

So I'm pretty sure he knows what the rig is for, but I think because it makes a whirring noise, he's just too timid to go after it.

Lasers don't make noise.
.

3441 Crackers

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Every exit is also an entrance.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Hmmm. I think the above quote is meant to be taken in a philosophical way, but one could get naughty about it, too.

Um, not every exit.

-------------------------------

I have zero creativity. Thinking up titles for these posts strains my imagination way beyond what a title is worth, 'specially since with labels I can more easily find topics than I ever could with titles, anyway. So from now on (or for however long I feel like it) I'd going to use random words for titles. Jasper sometimes puts words in my head, so I'll just use whatever he wants.

-------------------------------

For some odd reason today I was desperately trying to remember where we lived (when I was a kid) that we had a sandbox. I think it was probably at the Appleman's apartment in Benton, when I was in maybe fourth grade. Anyway, every so often, my mother had to go out to the sandbox and dig up the flyswatters and her spatulas. That's what she used to spank us with, and the kids would take them when she wasn't looking and bury them in the sandbox.

Don't know what made me think of that....

Hmmm. Maybe that came from Jasper, too. His litterbox needs cleaning.

--------------------------------

Friday night's problem got rapidly better as the day went on yesterday. I feel fine now, but the AZO sticks still say UTI, so I guess I still have to call the doctor tomorrow.

Bleck.
.

3440 I really don't need this

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Ambition is a poor excuse for not having enough sense to be lazy.
-- Steven Wright --

-----------------------------------------------

I've been suspecting a UTI for the past ten days. The AZO strip said "sorta", and the strange odor to my urine is back. I have no other symptoms. I've been drinking a lot of water, and upped the cranberry tablets. Sometimes the odor would go away for a day, then it would be back. The urologist has office hours only on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday (other days he's doing surgery and stuff, and you can't even make an appointment on the non-office days), so on Thursday I finally faced the fact that I would have to make an appointment on Monday.

Yesterday afternoon I started the dull pain across the top of my hips and the heavy feeling in the abdomen, and in the evening the slight nausea started - not like I feel like I might throw up, but like I don't want to eat. Just before I went to bed the blood started. My urine was red last night and first thing this morning, with small stringy clots.

I just piddled a few minutes ago, and now it looks fine.

I don't know what's going on. I now have less pain in the back, so maybe I passed a small stone? I'm now piddling into a strainer.

I called the doctor's office just in case there might be someone there, and I got the message that "if it's an emergency, call 911." I don't want to go to the ER. That's horribly expensive even with insurance, and I doubt that this is an emergency.

Sigh. I really don't need this....

--------------------------------

I also woke up this morning to a Meetup announcement, that one of my event organizers has scheduled a Super Bowl Party, in a bar, for my meetup group.

I was immediately extremely angry. I was very specific with those women that the group was for dining and conversation, I specifically set a geographic boundary, I specifically said we don't do bars, bands, or booze (although if the restaurant happens to have a bar that's ok), I specifically said that attendance should be limited to one table of diners. I was very clear that it was a small conversational group.

She has set up an unlimited blowout in a bar on Super Bowl Sunday, way outside the geographic limit, with DJ and dancing after the game.

What's wrong with these people? She completely ignored everything I said.

I waited until I calmed down, then I wrote an email to all four, saying that I was pleased that they were taking the reins and scheduling events. However, I would appreciate it if they would reread the initial email I had sent as to the purpose of the group. I said that I am allowed to start up to three groups, so if any of them would like to start a separate group under my account, they may do so. I mentioned that I was going to cancel the Super Bowl party as outside the parameters of the dining group.

Then I sent a separate email to the woman who organized the party, saying that she is welcome to start a group under my account, she can name it and define it any way she wishes and have complete control over it. Then after it's set up, I'll cancel the party under the dinner group and we'll just have everyone who RSVPed for the party move to her group and RSVP there.

What do you want to bet she doesn't read the entire notes, blows up, freaks out, emails all 38 current members blasting me, and just generally makes life miserable for me?

Sigh. I really don't need this....
.

3439 Duh....

Friday, January 6, 2012

Another happy ending….

-------------------------------------------------------

It's Friday. Another week during which I made absolutely no progress on anything.

Well, I did find the forms online to kill my NY "business". I never bought anything using the tax id and I never sold anything, but I still had to file tax forms for it, so I figure I may as well kill it. All the forms I could find online to kill a DBA were dated for 2011, though. I hope there are no major changes in the forms for 2012.

I couldn't actually print them because my printer has a problem.

It worked fine for a few weeks after I bought it, then it quit printing things in real time. The error message says it's offline. But it would, however, print everything on the queue when I IPLed. As soon as Windows was full up, it was offline again. About two weeks ago it stopped even that.

It will scan documents and print them - so essentially I have a copier. It has never, since I first installed it, been willing to send scanned stuff to the computer.

I figured I should uninstall and reinstall it, but I can't find the disk or booklet that came with it. I swear they were on top of the desk overhead, but they're not there now.

So I sent links to the tax forms to Daughter to print for me, but she is extremely relaxed about stuff like that. Oh, well, I have until March.

It just seems like everything these days is either going wrong, or is harder than it should be. I want to hide in my bed. Yesterday I didn't get dressed at all.

--------------------------------

I have done nothing with the Meetup dinner group, either, since that dinner last summer when nine people signed up, and then one by one they cancelled out until the afternoon of the dinner I was the only one left.

It was up for renewal this month, and I didn't want to pay for renewal if I wasn't going to do anything, so I'm trying something. I asked the members for volunteers as event coordinators. Four women volunteered. I sent them an email asking that they please, when they schedule a dinner, keep to my vision for the group:
- Local to this area (I specified "south of"/"north of" boundaries)
- Limit to six or eight at table
- Make sure ALL information is in the original announcement so there won't be update after update, change after change.

Yeah. Sure. I keep forgetting that people are crazy. One of the women has scheduled a dinner for the end of January. No attendance limit, and she's changed the time already. She wants reservations in a whole week before so she can "make arrangements with the restaurant". I guess she's unaware that people wait until the last minute to drop out. It's terrible of me, but I almost hope she learns from this....
.

3438 Tarnish

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
-- Steven Wright --

-------------------------------------------------------

I have a lot of silver. Not like big valuable silver tea services or trays or tableware, just bits scattered around, stuff I bought at antiques auctions, like silver trimmed candy dishes, pitchers, silver knobs on walking sticks, stuff like that. The big thingy (urn?) I bought in Morocco is covered with thin straps of silver, and I have ancient brass or copper mid-eastern urns that have traces of the original silver on them. I have a lot of silver jewelry, antique stuff plus things I bought in Morocco, Thai sliver, torques from southeast Asia, handmade stuff from craft fairs. The older stuff isn't sterling, of course.

It all lived quite happily in the house upriver. Even the old stuff. Tarnish grew gradually, requiring a touch-up polishing maybe every three or four years.

I've noticed that as I've brought things down here, they've been tarnishing badly, rapidly. My Miao/Hmong neckrings are almost black. Within three months in this house, most of the silver jewelry becomes unwearable.

Is it something wrong with the house?

I researched. It's sulfur dioxide in the air that tarnishes silver. SO2 is one of the more dangerous components of air pollution. It comes from the burning of sulfur-containing fossil fuels, like by power plants and automobiles, and from home heating fuel oils, and can cause severe lung disease and other pulmonary problems like asthma.

I've heard that NJ is the asthma (and autism) capitol of the US.

Hmmmm.

Also apparently the silver rotting capitol.
.

3437 Greek yogurt

Sunday, January 1, 2012

THE cAPS lOCK IS LIKE pIG lATIN FOR YOUR FINGERS.
-- Scott Meyer, “Basic Instructions” --

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Like the texture of Greek yogurt but don't want to pay the price?

Buy a 32-oz container of regular yogurt; the least expensive house brand is fine as long as the only ingredients are milk and live culture.

Line a strainer, preferably the kind with wire mesh, with one layer of cheesecloth. Dump the yogurt in. suspend it over a large bowl or pot such that there are several inches between the bottom of the mesh and the bottom of the pot. Do not stir the yogurt.

Cover with foil or a dishtowel or the pot lid and put in the refrigerator.

Check it the next morning and pour off the liquid that has collected in the pot. That's the whey. You can drink it. It's good. Keep checking and pouring off evening and morning until there's no more (or very little) whey. Do not stir the yogurt while it's draining.

Dump the yogurt out into a bowl or the original container. You should now have about 2/3 the volume you started with, which is why Greek yogurt is more expensive -- but nobody explained that to us -- but still, at half the cost, this is cheaper. Stir it gently with a whisk until it's smooth, no more lumps. You can now add a tablespoon of honey and stir it in, or a little sugar and vanilla. Or fruit. Or jam. Or nothing.

Voila! Greek yogurt.
.

3436 Midnight

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Bad decisions make good stories.

---------------------------------------------------------

I babysat the Nugget last night at my house while her Mommy went out and her very tired Daddy slept. (His mother had been visiting the past few days. She's high energy and natters constantly, so it's a bit of a strain. Overstimulating for Nugget, too. She left to drive back to NC in the afternoon.)

Nugget was overtired herself, and had some terrible complaint. She screamed. Maybe teething. Maybe bellyache. I'd never seen her so miserable before. She didn't want a bottle, she didn't want toys, she'd show brief interest in something new and then immediately start screaming again. I finally got her to sleep about 8:30 pm by massaging her back.

Mommy returned at about 11. We didn't wake the Nugget. She woke herself at about 11:50, screaming. I had wanted to turn the TV on a few minutes before midnight to see the ball (not because it's new year's but because Hercules had been at the assembly of the NYC ball last week, by invitation, and had talked about the lights), but instead we were dosing the Nugget with Colic Calm at the moment, and missed it.

Man, that stuff (the Colic Calm) is amazing! It worked in literally seconds. Nugget was not only not unhappy, she was smiling and ready to play. Daughter looked up and said, "What time is it?" I said "12:04." Daughter apologized for my missing the ball drop, and I said it's ok, at the stroke of midnight Nugget had smiled and reached for me.

That's even better.

-------------------------------

Somewhere my mother picked up the custom of eating sauerkraut on New Year's Day, for luck all year. In fact, she insisted we eat it because to not eat it guaranteed bad luck all year (well, those years she happened to remember and had sauerkraut in the cupboard, anyway).

For lunch today I had my favorite kielbasa, caraway and anise seed, onions, and thoroughly rinsed sauerkraut, all sauteed together in olive oil until brown.

Daughter thinks I'm nuts, but half of it is going over to their house as soon as they get back from their hike. And I'll stand there until she at least samples it.
.

3435 Anger, losing hope

Saturday, December 31, 2011

Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.
-- Steven Wright --

-----------------------------------------

I've been trying to avoid situations, books and articles, and anything else that makes me angry. I don't need anger these days. There's little I can do about the things that make me angry, and so the result is depression.

Yeah, good plan. So what do I do? I start reading Noam Chomsky's 9-11 / Was There an Alternative? (The 2011 updated version.)

I guess I like hitting myself in the head with a hammer.

Americans are idiots! Our leadership are the biggest idiots, because they at least have the information but can't seem to use it.

Get yourself a copy. It's short, fewer than 200 pages. Right now I'm on page 21 and I'm spitting nails.

(You know who knows what's happening, sees the trap, and knows how to deal with it? The French. So naturally we have to vilify them.)

Our current economic woes and the rise of corporate tyranny, the radicalization of the middle east, the loss of friends and allies - it's all part of the plan, and it's working beautifully because we're too stupid and too "cowboy" to see it.

-------------------------------------

By the way, the choice of September 11, 2001, may not have been random, and not because of 911 as the emergency number. How many know about the September 11, 1973, US terrorist attack on Chile? Google that date. Scan the first few articles that come up.
.

3434 Roast and freeze.

Friday, December 30, 2011

A year from now you will wish you had started today.
-- Karen Lamb --

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't understand the heat in this house. Because it's a slab, the downstairs floors are cold. Because of poor design, many of the heat vents are in the ceiling. Because I'm short, mostly I live in the cold part. That much I understand.

What I don't understand is why even though the thermostat is steady, the house is very warm, too warm, in the morning even before the sun is fully up, and then it's cold in the evening. And when I say cold, I mean a scarf around my neck and a jacket on. That's ridiculous.

Maybe it's me, something about my metabolism, not the house, but I've never had this problem before, and I don't have the problem in the old house! I'm always comfortable there.

Something's screwy.

-------------------------------

It's worse tonight because "Narnia" is on TV. I've tried to watch it many times before and never made it past the first 40 minutes. I'm determined to make it all the way through this evening, but it's all SNOW! and ICE! and those kids aren't very warmly dressed! That ice queen/witch is wearing short sleeves!

Aaaaaagggghhh! I'm freeeeeezing!
.

3433 Lawsuits

Friday, December 30, 2011

Thinking is a skill, not an innate ability.
-- Northrop Frye --

----------------------------------------------------------------

Most Ridiculous Lawsuit of 2011 Announced!

[From http://www.facesoflawsuitabuse.org/2011/12/most-ridiculous-lawsuit-of-2011-announced/]

"The U.S. has been the undisputed lawsuit capital of the world for some time. And while the courts play a central role in resolving disputes and maintaining a civil society, that function isn’t easy when they are packed with frivolous suits.

Ridiculous lawsuits clog up our legal system’s dwindling resources, taking time away from legitimate grievances to devote to the vindictive, the hypocritical, the irresponsible, and the outright absurd.

With that in mind, FacesOfLawsuitAbuse.org has compiled some of the most egregious examples of frivolous and abusive litigation from around the country and asked you to tell us which ones were the most ridiculous. These suits range from the comical and absurd to the disturbing, but they all underscore a real problem – lawsuits hurt businesses, families, and everyday Americans through lost time, money and job growth.

So which lawsuits are the doozies this past year? First, here’s the lawsuit that you thought was the most ridiculous:

• Convict sues couple he kidnapped for not helping him evade police. A man who kidnapped a couple at knifepoint while he was running from the police is now suing the victims, claiming that they promised to hide him in exchange for an unspecified amount of money. The plaintiff, currently in jail, is seeking $235,000 for the alleged “breach of contract.”

And here’s the rest of the top ten as determined by you who voted at FacesOfLawsuitAbuse.org:

• Man suing for age discrimination says judge in his case is too old. A 60-year-old musician who is suing for age discrimination wants the judge removed from the case – because he’s too old. Ironically, the plaintiff says his fight against age-based discrimination is too important to leave in the hands of the 88-year-old judge.
• Young adults sue mother for sending cards without gifts and playing favorites. The plaintiffs, now 20 and 23, claimed the mother “sometimes didn’t include gifts in cards sent to her children; played favorites with her children . . . did not send care packages until his sixth semester away at college . . . changed her surname, thus ‘causing attention’ at her daughter’s school events; and refused to buy her a homecoming dress.”
• Obese man sues burger joint over tight squeeze in booths. A nearly-300 pound man is suing White Castle restaurants, saying that their booths are too tight to accommodate someone of his size. In fact, he’s so distraught by the booths that he hasn’t been to White Castle in months (instead, he sends his wife to pick up his burgers so he can eat them at home).
• Woman sues over movie trailer; says not enough driving in ‘Drive’. A Michigan woman who claims she was misled by the trailers for the movie ‘Drive’ is suing the distributors of the film. She says she was disappointed by the lack of driving in the film and was expecting something more similar to the ‘Fast and Furious’ films.
• Mom files suit against exclusive preschool over child’s college prospects. A New Yorker is suing a private preschool, saying the school’s curriculum has seriously hurt her 4-year-old’s chances of getting into an Ivy League college.
• Man sues bar for not disarming him before he started drinking (and fighting). A Pennsylvania man illegally brought a gun into a bar, then got injured in a drunken shootout with another patron, and now has sued the bar for not searching him for a weapon on his way in.
• Passenger’s lawsuit says cruise ship was too fast. An Indiana woman is suing Carnival Cruise Line, claiming she got sick because the boat was going too fast and was swaying from side to side.
• Woman disagrees with store over 80¢ refund, sues for $5m. A New York woman decided to make a $5 million federal case out of a disagreement over 80¢. Her suit says she used a $5-off coupon when she purchased a bevy of items for over $100. When she returned one of the items, the store pro-rated the refund to account for the discount.
• Mother sues Chuck E. Cheese – says games encourage gambling in children. A California woman has filed a lawsuit against Chuck E. Cheese on the grounds that their games are actually an illegal form of gambling and could get kids hooked. She is seeking at least $5 million; the restaurant says the games are legal and has asked a judge to dismiss the suit.

Thanks to everyone who took the time to vote. And while we can’t predict everything 2012 has in store, it’s a good bet there’ll be more ridiculous lawsuits. So remember to visit FacesOfLawsuitAbuse.org monthly to vote for your favorite ridiculous lawsuits."

----------------------------

On the other hand, some of the US Supreme Court's decisions this past year in favor of corporations will make it almost impossible to sue them when they screw you. See http://www.forbes.com/sites/michaelbobelian/2011/12/28/the-top-three-cases-that-impacted-corporate-america-in-2011/.

In perhaps my oversimplification, the AT&T decision says that if a corporation puts that hateful but standard arbitration clause in your contract, you can't join a class action suit against them. That doesn't mean you can't sue them, you don't give up that right, but it does mean you have to sue them individually. Now consider going up against a gazillion-dollar corporation's legal department all by yourself. (Worse, and not mentioned in this article, there's a movement afoot to rule that the loser in a civil case pays BOTH parties' legal fees, in an effort to stop frivolous lawsuits- see above.)

The Wal-Mart ruling bothers me because in essence, it says that if a corporation allows individual managers to discriminate, then the individual managers can be sued by the individual complainants, but the corporation cannot be sued by a class of victims just because they don't have a corporate policy against such discrimination.

This is looking like corporations can pretty much do anything they damn well please, free from the threat of anyone suing them.

Now, I'm not a fan of class action suits. Too many law firms go out hunting for people to join a suit they, the lawyers, thought up, then they settle for a gazillion, and each of the citizen parties to the suit get a pittance. That's not right. But if a bunch of people have been harmed, class action suits have an important purpose. If nothing else, it's bad publicity and a threat of punishment.

Now, there's not even that. Welcome to USA, Inc.
.

3432 A Bad Day

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.
-- Steven Wright --

------------------------------------------

I took Fred for his state inspection today. The nearest state inspection station was about a half hour down the road. The website, and Daughter, and The Man, and everyone else I asked said that NJ checks only emissions. I'm pretty sure Fred's bowels are fine, so I wasn't worried.

It wasn't easy to figure out how to get into the place. The GPS insisted the address was further down route 36 than it actually was, and this being NJ, if you pass your address you can't just pull a U or turn left into a mall or something to turn around. There ARE no left turns allowed. You have to go another 3/4 mile until you find a jug handle. Unfortunately, the next jug handle was at route 35, and the intersection was under construction, and even though the sign said "U and left turn here", there was no way to get to the other half of the U to make the left back onto 36.

Sigh.

I had to go straight on 35 and go another 3/4 mile to make a U on 35 to get back to 36.

This should have been a warning that things were not going well.

I got to the inspection place, got into the line of cars, pulled my ticket that said the line was four minutes long. Twenty-five minutes later I pulled into the inspection bay. Again I was told they check only emissions. I went to the waiting area where other waiting people talked about how they check only emissions.

Then I got waved out to Fred, where I was handed a FAIL paper. Fred failed because ... you know how when you start your car, there a bunch of lights on the dashboard that go on, like oil, anti-lock brakes, air bags, and the check-engine light? Fred's check engine light is burned out. Or something.

I was shocked! This is the scariest thing possible.

To understand how scary that is, you have to know Fred's history.

Through 2006 and 2007, his check-engine light kept going on, and then he'd stall. I could restart him, and sometimes the light would go out, but pretty soon it would go back on and he'd stall again. He was my only vehicle at the time.

For the next 18 months and more than $5,000 for service and rental cars, I took him to every garage in the area. Nobody thinks any more. They'd "put him on the computer", and it would tell them it's this sensor. So they'd replace the sensor. A week or a month later he'd be flashing and stalling again. Now it's a different sensor. Same thing. Always another sensor. When we stared replacing the same sensors again, I turned it over to the dealership, told them to put their best man on it, and don't return it until it's fixed.

They finally found that the rubber cover over the computer was cracked, and water was getting in, and that's what was causing all the problems. They mended the crack, reprogrammed him, and THEN, the mechanic, who lived about 20 miles away, drove it home and back to work for two weeks to make sure.

Then he drove Fred to my house and picked me up to go back to the dealership to pay. On the way, Fred's check engine light went on and he stalled right in the middle of the highway.

They didn't charge me for the work they had done, but they refused to do any further work on him. They gave up.

Fred was due for inspection, and the check-engine light on gets you an automatic fail. I couldn't pass an inspection, and therefore couldn't re-register him when that came due. I parked him in the driveway, rented a car, went used car shopping, and bought Suzie the Suzuki for $9,000.

Fred didn't move for the next three years. Just sat there in the driveway as time passed.

In 2010 I realized Fred would be very handy for moving, and decided to try again. I asked around for the very best electrical system guy, someone who has been doing this for a while, who thinks rather than just asks the computer. I found the guy. My hero.

He worked evenings on Fred in the driveway until he could get him road-worthy. Replaced the brake lines, battery, some hoses, bunch of other stuff, then took him to his shop to finish the work. Then he got him inspected at a friend's shop, and re-registered.

I was cautiously happy, then very happy when the check engine light never came on.

THUD!!!!

The bulb isn't working?

What are the chances that the problem still exists, that when I get the light fixed it will burn brightly? CONSTANTLY? And Fred will never ever pass an inspection? What's the possibility that the hero "fixed" the problem by pulling the fuse or unplugging the bulb? And his friend who did the inspection passed Fred with a wink? (Let us all bow our heads and pray for Fred.)

I have until the end of January to find out.

--------------------------------

When I left the inspection place I was badly shaken. I stopped at a diner up the road to eat and to look at the papers I'd been given.

I took my purse, a paperback book, and the papers - 2 sheets of white 8.5 x 11 stapled together and a bright red brochure stapled on top - in with me. I glanced briefly at the papers while waiting for the waiter, then put them on the table to my left, with the paperback on top of them. After ordering, I went to the lady's room, taking only my purse with me, and then I read my book at the table while waiting for my food. When my food arrived, I put the book on the table to my left.

I have no idea when the papers disappeared. It could have been while I was in the restroom. Or not. I have no idea. But when I gathered my things to leave, the only things on the table were my book and a takeout container. The waiter did all the clearing from my right, so it's doubtful that he took them by accident. I was almost home (40 minutes up the road in rush hour traffic) when I realized I didn't have the papers. I turned around and went back to the diner.

I'm reasonably sure that if the papers were there at all, they'd have saved them for me. The host remembered me, remembered where I'd been sitting. He showed me a slew of stuff that had been left over the past couple of days - including things like travel brochures - so if they'd fallen on the floor, they'd have been behind the counter, for a few days, anyway.

I hope I don't need any of it.

It's been a long scary day.
.

3431 A Nerd's Christmas, The Goddess, and A Tastless Xmas

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Borrow money from pessimists. They don't expect it back.
-- Steven Wright --

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is North Point Ministries' iBand. It's 7.5 minutes, but well worth it. (I was especially fascinated by the iPhone maracas. How does it know you're shaking it?)

[http://youtu.be/F9XNfWNooz4]

--------------------------------

I've had a necklace for the past twenty years or so that Daughter loved. Every time I wore it, she said she wanted it. I gave it to her today, along with a nearly matching bracelet I'd found at a craft fair. The Goddess's stones are all different, hand polished and hand set on sterling silver. The goddess figurine is a hair over two inches long, and hangs just above the breastbone. She is horn, the panther is bone. Ignore the larger stones in the photos - that's the bracelet, which isn't nearly as nice or well made.

I present "The Goddess":

I'm going to miss her.

--------------------------------

This is around the corner and down the road a bit from my house. There are flashing lights on the house and the top and bottom of the fence and in the trees, so likely any one photo isn't going to capture all the glory - or the music playing from the speakers. All kinds of stuff is just jammed together without any rhyme or reason. And it all seems to have to do with consumerism. The shorthand "Xmas" was made for displays like this. Forgive the blur, I didn't have a tripod or anything to brace against, but you get the idea. I want to get a photo in daylight sometime. No hurry - if last year is any indication, it'll all still be there in February.

Note the hot-air balloon in the back yard.




Yep. None of the photos caught the flashing lights on the roofline or fence.

My taste runs more toward a wreath on the door and candles in the window, or monochromatic lights on the shrubs at the foundation and along the walkway (no blinking, please), that says "this house is quietly joyful and welcoming". Or a softly lighted manger scene (please, no Snow White included), which says "we honor".

There's very little of that in this neighborhood.

Sigh.

3430 Propaganda is using the right wrong word

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

If you want the rainbow, you got to put up with the rain.
-- Steven Wright --

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Articles abound about Puerto Rican frogs, the tiny thumbnail-sized coqui, showing up and spreading in Hawaii. Every report refers to them as "harmful".

Propaganda! The use of that word "harmful" makes you feel negatively toward them! You immediately assume bad things about them. You are supposed to assume that means harmful to the natural world, the beauty of Hawaii, and of course you want to protect that.

They're tiny. They don't "harm" anything. I mean it's not like they eat baby birds or something. They don't cut down the forest, or move into another species' habitat and make it unsuitable for the original inhabitants, they don't consume more than their share of resources, or over-fish the sea. They don't pave over the world so rain can't get through. They don't kill for the "sport" of killing. They don't push their neighbors into reservations, ghettos, or preserves.

They're just very very very loud, and humans don't like that.

So they're "harmful", and must be eradicated because they're harmful.

Bullpoopy.

---------------------------------

I wouldn't mind if there were some good reason why, like that they have no natural enemies in Hawaii, but that isn't the problem. Birds find them delicious. So far they have caused no imbalances. Their living and dead bodies become resources in about the same niche as the one they occupy. They eat insects, but their offal supports insects.

The sole reason they are "harmful" is their song. We don't like it, so let's kill them!

I wouldn't mind if people admitted they aren't harmful, and the only reason they want to eradicate them is that they are loud, disturb sleep, and may hurt the tourist trade.

But this is not harmful. It's merely annoying. You can't kill things just because they're annoying. (If that were true, we'd have no neighbors.) They have to be "harmful", so therefore that's what they are so we can justify killing them.

A small example of what I meant by propaganda a few posts back.

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PS - This post isn't about frogs. It's about propaganda. Frogs are just the vehicle. Ignore the frogs.
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3429 Whoa!

Monday, December 26, 2011

A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
-- Steven Wright --

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I mentioned online dating to someone today. That reminded me that I had a moribund profile on a particular site that I hadn't visited in years. So I visited. I updated my profile and photos (just for fun, you understand) and released the hold (just to see what might happen, you understand), and in the past two hours I have been inundated by "Hi!" notes. Well, eight of them, anyway.

And of those eight, all but two were from very young men. Under thirty. Like three under twenty-five!

Holy Crap!

How tempting is this:
Now, his pants are a bit low, and it's a cell phone photo in a public or work restroom, (the other photo does include his face, which is also pretty), and it worries me that he's got his shirt off in a public restroom, but his note was nice, and he actually spelled out all the words instead of using that ugly texting shorthand, and spelled correctly, too (... as opposed to the mash note I got from a young man straight from Snooki's crew, that seemed to be a different language). AND he lives a few blocks from here.

Holy Crap!

Now, I'm not naive. I do know why a lot of young men like older women. We aren't likely to get pregnant, we're less likely to be drama queens, and we're very likely to be grateful for decent sex. Maybe even generously grateful.

No way I'm falling into that trap. **

But OMG - I want to TOUCH that chest!

--------------------------------

**I'd like to put something like that in my profile, but then they might stop sending me pictures like this.
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3428 Alone in a crowd

Monday, December 26, 2011

A conscience is what hurts when all your other parts feel so good.
-- Steven Wright --

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There's a Meetup group I had joined, for us older folks, but I had never signed up for anything because it was always a horde scene. Like 50 people at dinner.

Well, they had a dinner at a Bonefish on Christmas Eve, and only four other people had signed up for it -- one man (the organizer) and three women. That sounded good to me, so I signed up, too.

Saturday afternoon I got a note from the organizer saying that the other three women would be carpooling with him, and that they'd be in the bar at 7:30, I should meet them there. He said he'd be wearing a Meetup button.

At 7:15 I arrived. When I came in, there were a few people, like six or seven, I didn't count, on the porch. Couldn't be them. Too many. Too many men. Wrong place. I went to the bar and sat at the end. There was one woman and a couple at the bar. I waited. And waited.

At 7:40 I asked at the hostess stand if there was a reservation in the organizer's name, or Meetup, or the group name. Nope. I asked about any reservation for five. Nope. I left my name with them in case anyone looked for me. I checked out on the porch, and the large group was still there.

At 7:50 I walked around the restaurant looking for tables with one man and three women. I asked at two tables if they were Meetup. Nope. I glanced at men's shirts, looking for a button of some kind. Nope. I made that tour twice over the next ten minutes.

At 8:00 I gave up and ordered dinner at the bar. I ate alone. On Christmas Eve. In a crowded restaurant. I left at 8:45.

When I got home I sent an email to the organizer asking what had happened.

Surprise! They had picked up another man and woman, so they were six, not four. The group on the porch was apparently them. The reservation had been made in one of the women's name, not the organizer's. They had waited for me ON THE PORCH! until 7:45.

Um, my photo on the Meetup site looks exactly like me. If they were waiting for me, shouldn't the organizer have been watching for someone who looks like me? I am a bit unique. Shouldn't they have at least CHECKED IN THE DAMN BAR?! WHERE HE SAID THEY'D BE?

They all knew each other already. I was apparently superfluous.

What gets me is that at about 7:45 a group of six, two men and four women, was seated at a high table in the bar, about 8 or 10 feet from me. They were loud and having a good time. I wonder if that was them. If it was, I wonder why it never occurred to them to glance at the lone woman at the bar.

Yeah, on the one hand, I'm pissed. On the other hand I'm almost glad, because if that raucous group WAS them, I'd rather have been alone.

-------------------------------

Why, when people go to a forum, why don't they read the previous postings before they ask their questions?

Google Bookmarks no longer works, at least not on Firefox. You get the message that you have to sign in, but then nothing happens, it just repeats the "Please sign in". I had that problem a few months ago. I panicked. I have a thousand bookmarks, and am lost without them.

I found a forum for that exact problem. The answer is that Google no longer supports bookmarks, and has no plans to do so. Period.

The bookmarks are actually still there on your disk, but Google isn't going to get them for you. A few people had recommendations that involved opening code and resetting bits and flags and stuff to fool Google into thinking you have a lower level of Firefox. Others had found a way to get to the raw bookmarks involving like five steps.

Uh, no thanks.

I subscribed to the forum in case anyone found a simple fix.

I dug around the internet and found an easy to install Firefox extension called "GMarks". You can put a button right on the Firefox tool bar, and it works exactly like Google Bookmarks used to.

I recommended its use in the forum. A few people tried it and praised me.

You'd think that with the explanation of why G. B. no longer works, and three work-arounds offered, that would be the end, right? At least until someone finds something better, right?

No.

For the past few months, I'm getting alerts of updates to the discussion, and in EVERY case, it's some idiot whining that their bookmarks no longer works, what happened?, and what can they do about it?

Sheesh. Those people aren't worth helping, when they don't even bother to read the previous posts.
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3427 Photos

Sunday, December 25, 2011

99% of lawyers give the rest a bad name.
-- Steven Wright --

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Daughter, Hercules, and the Nugget are away for the weekend. With my ex and Hercules' parent's exes, there are four sets of grandparents: me, one in south Jersey and two sets in Pa, and this is the Nugget's first Christmas, so everybody wants her. They left Friday to make the tour, and will return late tomorrow. So we'll do our piece of Christmas late Monday or Tuesday, whatever works.

Daughter has been complaining that she has no childhood photos of herself. I have a huge box of unsorted photos from my life, so I spent today putting together a special gift for her -- a smaller unsorted box from her life. We'll have to go through them together, adding names, dates, and occasions to the backs of those she decides to keep.

Someday I'll have to do that to all my photos. Daughter is afraid I'll drop dead someday, leaving her with random sepia photos of unidentified ancestors/strangers.
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3426 Title? I don't need no stinkin' title!

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Half the people you know are below average.
-- Steven Wright --

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I'm in love again. Fourteen hours with The Man will do that to me.

One of the many things we talked about - he marveled at a coworker who, when the clock hits 4:30, stands up, puts his coat on, and leaves, leaving coffee on his desk, the computer open to whatever he was working on, conversations unfinished, he just leaves! It drives The Man crazy. He can't understand it. (Part of it was that the guy doesn't clean up before leaving, part of it was the leaving.)

Reminded me of this:
[http://dilbert.com/dyn_file/str_strip/146542/gif/strip.print/]

That's so true. The more you do, the more you get to do. When I worked for The Company - oh hell, it's far enough out now I think I can use the name - IBM, 10 to 15% overtime was built into every project. Being salaried, we didn't get paid overtime, but overtime was expected. Missing schedules was bad for your performance reviews, so overtime was necessary. And yet, it seemed like the people who got the raises and the promotions were also the people who left on time every day.

I knew one woman, Nancy, who worked like a dog. She took on everything she was asked to do, worked 10-15 hours of unpaid overtime every week. She pulled her department's tail out of the fire over and over. But over and over she was downgraded on the performance reviews because she "demonstrated poor time management", while other members of her department left on time every day, and got good reviews.

Nancy did a quarter of the entire work assigned to that entire 8 person department! She got no credit for it.

Simply put, those other people were able to convince their managers that they couldn't possibly take on additional projects. So all the additional department load was dumped on Nancy, who couldn't seem to say no. It was always, "Yeah, ok, I can do that."

Jay had pretty much the same problem.

I guess it's good time management when you don't accept any work that interferes with your personal life, even though overtime is part of the job. I think it's poor people management when you don't see the difference between loads carried.
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3425 Five Christmas cards....

December 24, 2011

[Note - "youtu.be" is YouTube's URL shortener. I wondered when I saw it, and researched it. It's safe. You'll notice that it expands to the full URL, like magic.]

This is long, at a hair over seven minutes, but it's beautiful and might make you cry. He's not particularly friendly to what Man has made of religion, but he "gets" the family aspects of Christmas:

[http://youtu.be/vWQuDtxD2-c]

This one is short, at about 14 seconds:

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1EZZhmNPGv8]

Thirty-nine seconds, cute. Having grown up with porcupines in the yard, I can confirm that they really do talk a lot:

[http://youtu.be/IEc8k4LUQ7g]

This one's for all the beastie lovers out there:

[http://youtu.be/9zvy0kQZStk]

These kids aren't all that good (possibly why the director is in disguise), but it was a great idea:

[http://youtu.be/jiDTufRNL10]

3424 Photo memories

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Illegal immigration began in 1492. Who are we to complain now?

---------------------------------------------

I just read an article on taking better holiday photos. (At http://www.howtogeek.com/101093/photography-with-htg-10-tips-for-better-christmas-photos/.) Their first directive is not to pose folks. The idea is to take pictures with something natural happening.

That reminded me of Jay's father's holiday photos. He worked for Kodak, and took a lot of pictures, but the man didn't have an artistic bone in his body. Apparently, he had heard about not stiffly posing groups. So he'd take a picture of the mother reading a story to the kids. BUT! Mother would be sitting in a chair looking at an open book on her lap, and the kids and Father would be standing beside each other and her, on either side of her, also looking down at the book.

Nah. Doesn't look posed. Uh uh. Not at all.

There are photos of poor toddler Jay standing next to a tiny sidetable, with his hand on the top of a toy truck on the table, looking miserable. I can just hear his father saying, "Now play with the truck." On an fifteen-inch-wide table?

I doubt it would ever occur to Jay's father to get down on the floor some time when Jay was playing naturally. That way he wasn't controlling the shot. And Jay's father was all about control.

I look at those photos now, and I feel so sorry for the child Jay.

-------------------------------

When I first met Jay, I envied him his childhood, with parents who didn't fight, a father who didn't beat anyone, his whole life in the same school system, and the same house in a beautiful neighborhood, with Grandmother on the next street over.

Then I met his family (his mother had died a few years before). His father was ultra controlling - Jay wasn't even allowed to make any decisions on his own until he married me, his father even wrote all his application essays and cover letters, did all his boy scout projects, nothing Jay could do on his own was ever good enough, his sisters barely remember him as a child, and they weren't that far apart in age, they simply weren't involved, it was all very cold and demanding.

You know, I think I could have handled his death so young (49) if he had at least had a good early life. But he was just beginning to find himself and like himself when he got the diagnosis. That's hard to accept.

I threw all those photos out.
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