3738 Diary

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

All wars are civil wars, because all men are brothers ... 

Each one owes infinitely more to the human race

than to the particular country in which he was born. 

-- Francois Fenelon --

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

Yesterday I went to the bank, picked up some file boxes at Staples, stopped at the "hand wash only" car wash place to find out what detailing entails and how much it costs and made an appointment for today for the BMW, went to Verizon to get the replacement wifi box mated to the laptop (2 hours again), got the oil changed and the radiator flushed in the van ($160!), and stopped at the IHOP to get takeout garden crepes.  Arrived home at 4 pm to find Daughter and Nugget on my porch.

Things somehow went west from there.  I offended Daughter somehow.
.

3622 Gas burbles

Monday, September 24, 2012

If there is love, smallpox scars are as pretty as dimples.

-- Japanese proverb --

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

I was planning to go upriver this afternoon, so this morning I took Fred The Van to get gas.  His gauge doesn't work any more, so when I get gas I set the trip odometer, and I know he's good for 300 miles.  He's sitting at 287 now, so I knew he'd need filling before the trip.

Nope.  The pump kept cutting out.  It wouldn't even put a few drops in.  The internet lists a slew of possible reasons.  Fred is now at the car hospital getting his throat checked.  Also his hips - he's still leaking transmission fluid.  I'm afraid he may be giving up.  Although he's eleven years old, he has fewer than 65,000 miles on him.

Last time I went upriver I took Hal The BMW.  I filled him before we left, and then I filled him when we got back, just to check for really really (not what the computer says) what his MPG is. 

I was amazed!  This time the trip was almost exactly 300 miles because of some side trips I took, plus I did the whole trip with the top down, and he took 10.2 gallons on return.  Holy Whatever!  That's like 30 mpg!  (Fred gets about 20-23, depending, believe it or not, on how much crosswind we have.)

That's pretty durn good, considering how hot-blooded Hal is.  And his not wearing his hat had to have screwed with his wind resistance. 

Man, I do love manual (standard) shift.
.

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.
.

3270 My watermelon exploded!

Sunday, May 29, 2011

“[Marriage is] about being together some of the time and apart some of the time.
About entering and leaving together.
About being free to follow your own tastes
yet always conscious that there is a seat saved for you beside the other.”
-- Terry Bisson, The Edge of the Universe -

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

...well, I think it would have exploded if it had gotten warm.

I love watermelon. A few days ago I bought a very small round one, and put it on the kitchen counter. It was uncut, the refrigerator is too small, and you see them sitting in bins in the grocery store for a few days, right? So it never occurred to me to put it in the refrigerator.

It was ok this morning. This evening I glanced over and noticed that it looked ... deflated. It was flat on the bottom, sinking into the counter exactly like a leaking soccer ball.

I touched it, and it was empty-squishy-feeling. I scooped it up and ran for the sink, just in time for it to literally fall apart in my hands.

What you see in the photo is what happened when it landed in the sink. I didn't scrape it out or anything. There was a little "meat" in it, but not enough to so much as block the drain. It was mostly water.

I'd read a story about Chinese farmers who were losing their watermelon crops - that the melons were exploding in the fields because they'd had a very wet spring and the melons contained a higher ratio of water to fiber, and when they got warm they blew apart.

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

Friday morning very early I drove 1.5 hours to Harriman, NY, to get Hal inspected. He's one year old this month. I'm not ready to change the registrations yet because Suzy is still in NY and that just makes things too complicated.

He passed inspection, but I got a severe shock. Both driver's side tires have bubbles in their sidewalls. Probably from potholes. PLUS both driver's side wheels are bent. They'll need to be replaced.

Hal's tires are $417 EACH! I have no idea how much the wheels cost. Note - the guy didn't say "rims", he said "wheels".

The tires are not dangerous, but they'll eventually go flat, and they can't be repaired. They're so expensive because they're "drive flat" tires. Once the sensor says it's flat, I can drive something like 50 miles - at a lower speed - then it needs to be fixed or replaced. Well, that's the dealer's definition of "drive flat", anyway. Given that this makes three bubbled tires in four months, I think it means "drive them and they go flat". And honest, since the big pothole that blew the first one, I've been very careful NOT to hit potholes, even to avoiding the north section of route 35, and the back entrance to the post office.

Sigh. I was just beginning to get control of the finances, too.

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

The worst part of that diagnosis was that Fred was sitting outside with a flat tire, passenger side rear (another valve stem shot, that's the fifth of Hal's five tires in the past five months), and a holiday weekend is coming, and Daughter and Hercules are away until Monday, and now I hear Hal could go flat any minute, which would leave me stranded.

Neighbor George helped me put the spare on Fred this afternoon. (Well, he actually did it all.) The big problem with Fred is that his floor and rear axle are dropped 10 inches for wheelchair access, so an ordinary jack won't fit under him, and NO jack will fit under when a tire is completely flat. George had a compressor and pumped up the flat enough to get a special jack in there, and got it done.

George is 72 or 73, not in the best of health, and it was 88 degrees and sunny. He was bright red and sweating up a storm, lying on hot blacktop poking around under Fred, but he wouldn't be deterred. I was very worried.

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

Yesterday and today I did some yard work (in bits and pieces. I stopped every time I saw a trace of blood in the urine. Since I piddle about every 20 minutes (I've GOT to get this stent out!) it was easy to keep track of.)

Today my (new, replacement) gardenia bloomed. I took this picture before the blossom was completely open. There are two other swelling buds, but, if it goes like every other gardenia I've ever tried to keep, that simply means it will die next week.

Sigh.

3179 Best Laid Plans, blah blah

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Pardoning the bad is injuring the good.

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

Remember I said we nonprofessionals can be forgiven errors, but professionals must be held to a higher standard? This is from www.fox40.com/news a few days ago, about a herd of goats that got loose on a highway: "After nearly 20 hours of wandering, and wrecking havoc, around 60 nannies and billies are back under control."

Listen my children, and learn. "Havoc" is a state of chaos. It IS a wreck. So it doesn't make any sense to "wreck" havoc. The word the writer was looking for was "wreak". You wreak havoc. The two words are even pronounced differently. Another case of someone having heard and then used an expression without thinking about, let alone understanding, it.

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

Tuesday I headed north to the old house with the newly patched up Fred. His pink leak was transmission fluid, seals now fixed. I filled some more garbage bags, and packed up more stuff to bring south. I was very tired by 8 pm, went to bed with some crossword puzzles, and was asleep within minutes.

I had brought some things for Wednesday's breakfast and mid-morning snack, but needed to go out for lunch, so when I went into the village, I stopped in at Piper's office. Piper wasn't there, but his daughter was, and she said he'd gone to the Italian restaurant for takeout for their lunch. She called him, and he said he'd bring back her sandwich, and then he'd go to lunch with me.

Fine. But.

It took him a half hour to return, and then there were "a few things to be done" before we could go to the diner, and my one hour allotted for lunch (including the drive) turned into two and a half. Or more. I wanted to leave to head back south by 5 pm, and didn't get back to the house to load the van until 3.

When I arrived back at the old house after lunch with Piper, The Hairless Hunk followed me up the driveway. I would have liked to talk more with him, but I really needed to load the van and get moving, so I'm afraid I gave him short shrift.

I got back to the new house about 7 pm last night, parked Fred and turned him off, and ... his tail lights stayed on. His lights stay on for a while when you turn him off, so I didn't notice at first, until I went out for a cigarette about an hour later and wondered what the red glow on the driveway behind him was.

I tried everything I could think of - turned headlights on and off, tried the emergency brake on an off, started him and tried turn signals and then turned him off, but the tail lights stayed on.

Ack! Battery! Death of!

I went into the house to get his book (still in the house from when I was looking up his pink fluids), and when I came back out, the lights were off.

I had a slew of things to do today, like take a load of fabric to the storage facility, pick up a 4' stepladder at Home Depot, deposit some checks, grocery shop, pick up a "raincheck" order at the CVS, and so on. Most of it didn't get done because I had to go to the dealership and get Fred's lights fixed. And yup, again they stayed on when I turned him off.

Turns out it was some of his handicap wiring had rubbed some regular wiring, and caused a short in the switch. $208.33 and a few hours later, the switch was replaced.

In the service department waiting room, I was reading a Time magazine, and another woman about my age was reading a book. A man came in, also about our age, sat between us, and made a cell phone call. A very LOUD chatty call. It was impossible to read. Hey, he's our age! He should know better! When he finished that call, and then dialed another, I slapped the magazine on my thigh, and the other woman slammed her book closed and slapped the cover, we glanced at each other, and glared at him. I said to her, very loudly, (I had to be loud to be heard over him), "Well, maybe we could read aloud." It didn't seem to faze him, but maybe, because he talked only a few more minutes before saying, "I'll call you later" and hanging up.

He has to be the most dense man ever, because even though I had gone back to my magazine and was engrossed, he then proceeded to "chat me up." He got one-word responses. He finally took the hint and moved to the sales area.

Too bad. He was actually kind of good looking.

I never did make it to the grocery store or the CVS. Ice cream for dinner!
.

3171 Unraveling the budget and the knitting in one fell swoop

Thursday, February 24, 20011

"Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end."

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

Fred the minivan has been leaking a bright pink fluid for some time now, which has made me reluctant to drive him the 2.5 hours up to the old house. I consulted the book, and it said it could be either power steering or transmission fluid. It leaks only for a few days after I'd driven him, and then it stops, and it was bright pink, not a dirty pink, so I suspected it was the power steering - on the theory that transmission fluid would be a bit more "used" looking.

I had been waiting for a warmish day with no wind so I could check the levels of both, and then it occurred to me that even if I did find one low, what then? I could add more fluid, but what if it let loose all of a sudden on the thruway? I decided to have it professionally diagnosed.

I spent a few hours knitting this morning in the Chrysler dealership waiting room. It was the transmission seals.

Net - between Hal's pothole bubbled tire and Fred's seals, I've spent about $1,500 on car repairs this past month. Taxes are due on the old house, the gas bill on the new house is murder, and premiums on three insurance policies will come due within the next month. Yeah, I've got savings, I'm not going to starve, but, let's face it, I'm the one who washes zip-lock bags and reuses them. I BUDGET!

I guess I *can* wait to find out why Suzie Suzuki is belching smoke.

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

I wanted to knit a baby blanket. I bought a kit from Herrschners, which included the yarn and a pattern book, and on the last trip to the old house I picked up my needles. I wanted to make the blanket, "Little Blessings", on the cover of the pattern book.

The pattern is screwed up!

It says at the end of row 16, you should have 159 stitches. But after doing row 17 and ripping it out twice, I mapped the pattern for row 17, and it requires 160 stitches. I added another stitch, and row 17 worked. Then when I got to row 19, the repeating lacy pattern didn't match up to row 17. On row 17, the pattern repeats every 6 stitches. On row 19, the pattern repeats every 7 stitches! Something's very wrong. I ripped out three rows and tried to add a stitch to the pattern on row 17, or subtract a stitch on row 19, and then realized that since I don't really know which is the "correct" guess at the error, there was a 50-50 chance I'd run into worse problems further up, when the design changed.

I ripped the whole thing out and started over with a free fan and shell ripple pattern from the internet.

The Herrschners pattern book is three years old. You can't convince me that no one has complained about that pattern. In decades past, when there was an error in a pattern book (and it's not uncommon), there has always been a correction letter tucked in the book.

I am very disappointed in you, Herrschners.
.

3233 Life on hold

Monday, January 17, 2011

"I am not in this world to live up to other people's expectations,
nor do I feel that the world must live up to mine."
-- Fritz Perls --

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

Not much happening. Daughter drove me to the old house yesterday, where we dug the van out of the snow and I drove him south. So now both Fred the van and Hal the convertible are at the new house.

Hal has a mouse, who moved in while he was parked at the old house in November. The first clue was the chewed up roll of paper towels in the trunk, and the chewed hat. The second clue was the motion-detector alarms going off when no one was anywhere near Hal. I thought eventually the mouse would move out, but last week somebody chewed into a bag of peanuts on the front seat, and two nights ago I found a hole chewed in a bag of garbage in the garage. I give up. I'm going to have to evict him before he chews something important.

I bought some traps today, baited one (no mouse can resist peanut butter), and was taking it out to the garage. Just inside the garage, near the door to the house, is a tall plastic kitchen waste bin that I use to put out recycle stuff, and as I walked past it, I saw a motion.

The mouse is in the bin. The sides are too high and slick for him to get out.

He's the cutest little thing - bright eyes, tiny pink paws, short round body, no neck. I wish I had a cage. I'd try to keep him. But since he's caught, I'll give him a little water and walnuts tonight to feed him up a bit, and dump him outside tomorrow. Far from the house, far from Hal!

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

Peeved again. This was written by a professional journalist: "... declined invites from the organization ...."

Sheesh, people! At least be consistent. "... declined invitations from the organization ...." or "... declined invites from the organize ...."

Now is it apparent why I hate "invite" as a noun?
.

3167 Flat

Saturday, November 20, 2010

"They do not love that do not show their love."
-- William Shakespeare --

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

I woke up this morning to find a flat tire on Fred. Not just low - it was resting on the rim. Naturally, I have no friendly garages or other contacts here, and my tire-blower-upper-machine is still at the old house.

Because of his lowered floor I can't use his own jack on Fred when the tire is that low. It won't squeeze under. And even if I could get it jacked up, I'd hesitate to change the tire myself anyway because the driveway slopes and I have nothing with which to chock the tires.

I called Daughter to ask if she had a local friendly garage to recommend, one that makes house calls, and she said no, but she has AAA. Unfortunately, she was about to leave for work. So I called #ROAD, an emergency service I have through my cell phone ($3 a month, but they don't service you at your home, only on the road, dead in your driveway is not considered an emergency).

A friendly guy arrived within a half hour, and put the spare on for me. I thought it was #ROAD, but he turned out to be the AAA guy. Daughter had called them anyway. Before the AAA guy left, the #ROAD guy showed up. I hadn't canceled him because I thought the AAA guy was him.

Service sure is a lot faster here than at the old house!

I had looked at AAA a few years ago, but it wasn't very useful in the mid-Hudson valley. The nearest AAA-authorized service folks were in Albany, so it would take at least an hour and a half to get any help if I needed it anywhere near home. I guess it might be worth looking into down here.

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

I'd mentioned that I'd bought a small office refrigerator to use until I could either find a regular bottom-freezer refrigerator on sale or bring my old one down to the new house. Well, it's working just fine with just me to feed, except that I really wish it had more freezer space. There's just a flapped space in the top of the compartment, big enough for four Lean Cuisine dinners and a tiny ice cube tray, but no room for ice cream.

I need ice cream.

Yesterday I was in Home Depot arranging installation of a garage door opener, and lo, they had taller 2 -door mini refrigerators on sale, with a much larger freezer compartment behind a separate freezer compartment door.

I had been surprised at how cheap the first mini was. This one was even cheaper.

So now I have TWO mini refrigerators in the kitchen, side by side in the space meant for a big one. The two together cost less than a quarter of what I'd expect to pay for a standard one, even on sale, and I think it'll work out just fine.

Daughter is going to roll her eyes at me. Piper thinks I'm nuts. I'm perfectly happy. (Except that the smaller one is all black, and the new one is black with stainless steel doors. I wish they matched better.)

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

The Man has been traveling all over the country most of the month. I asked him if he had to go through the new TSA scans yet, and he said that none of the airports he'd used had them yet. He didn't mention having endured the new pat downs. I was curious because if they patted him down, they'd think he was packing artillery.
.

3065 Recall

Thursday, August 26, 2010

"The fact that a believer is happier than a skeptic is no more to the point
than the fact that a drunken man is happier than a sober one."
-- George Bernard Shaw --

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

Well, Hal, who edged out other cars in the running partially on the basis of superior engineering and reliability - Hal, who in the first four weeks revealed a pinched speaker wire in his door and a not-yet-fixed bug in his computer which randomly turns the "service engine now" light on, - Hal, who was rear ended in his sixth week, because another driver was too impressed with him - Hal, yeah, that Hal - has received his first recall.

It seems that for the past three years of Hal's model, the insulation near the seat belt thingy that grabs it in an accident (I forget what it's called) might catch fire if the thingy grabs in an accident. So I am to ignore the "service engine now" light, and, um, don't have an accident until I can take him in for repair.

Thirty years ago, my psychiatrist said I had feelings of omnipotence - that everything that went wrong was my fault. Well, notice that the stock market was heading back up UNTIL I decided to sell a load of stock to buy a house. Notice that the housing market was beginning to recover UNTIL I decided to put this house on the market. Notice that BMW used to have a good reputation UNTIL I bought one.

Maybe I had those feelings for a reason.

On the good side, Captain Vantastic called today. The minivan, Fred, is all checked out and ready to go. I am impressed. He'd been sitting in the driveway, dead to the world, for almost three years. He needed his brake lines replaced, one tire stem replaced, his A/C recharged, and an oil change and lube, and Vic says he's in great health now. His timing is more than perfect. The Captain checked out his electric door and wheelchair ramp, and they work fine. The only thing that doesn't work is that he doesn't kneel anymore, but that's ok, I never used the kneel (he'd kneel on the side with the ramp so that the ramp slope was lower) anyway. I never trusted it.

So, I'm ready to start moving! And I was prepared to spend more than $1,000 to get Fred back on the road, but it's coming out to just about $600. Incredible. Also, two people have already called wanting to buy him. He's a very handsome fellow, in great demand.

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

I've noticed that there are a lot of people these days who don't allow street shoes in their house. A lot of younger people seem to think that's only proper, the way it always has been.

I sorta thought it was sorta stupid. And awkward. And inconvenient for guests.

Well, I've found out why. I may have to ban shoes in my new house, or at least black rubber soles and spike heels.

Way back when, when I was a young'un, hardwood floors were hardwood. Hard wood. Hard. Wood. Solid, with some thickness. You could sand a quarter inch off to refinish them if necessary. Look at the 150-year-old houses with original floors. (This house is carpeted and tiled, no hardwood, but all my previous houses had real hardwood.)

The new house has parquet. I wasn't too happy with that because I was thinking of the squares. I don't like the squares. There's nothing wrong with them, Daughter has them, but it's just a personal dislike. Possibly because that's what our house had when I was in high school, and square parquet carries bad memories. Whatever. But it turns out the parquet in my new house is the long boards, so I'm ok with that.

I've been reading up on how to care for them, and, ta rah, high narrow heels can dent them. Dent? And they're not easy to refinish or sand out scratches, marks, or dents. It's cheaper and easier to replace the flooring.

So ok, now I understand the no shoes rule. Most new houses probably have parquet these days. But I still don't like the idea of making people take their shoes off. Do I have to provide slippers?

But, but, but, oh dear, does this mean I can't wear my stripper spikes in my bedroom? Bummer.

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

Today I went to the county fair - a very short trip just to get the freakin' french fries. That's the only thing I would regret if I didn't go. I'll write a bit on that later.
.

1834 Shakeup

Monday, June 2, 2008

Today has been an up down all around shake it up day. I'm completely worn out.

I mentioned that Jay's father died a few weeks ago. Turns out there were some very sneaky and even illegal things done concerning his estate. It's turning into a real snakepit.

Piper predicted that stuff like this would happen, he sees it all the time, and I naively said no, not with these folks. He shook his head, and said that the larger the estate, the nastier the people.

Well, it's even worse than he figured.

No details, but let's postulate, just for sake of argument, that a second will has appeared, postdating the "known" one, and the second one was signed after someone was declared incompetent, without the knowledge of certain of the siblings, and threats have been made that if anyone fights it, the entire estate will be spent defending it and there won't be anything left for anyone, so shut up, and so on. Oh, and the house was cleaned out by some siblings without the knowledge of the others. Without any appraisals. And of course no one has any idea where the Academy Award went.

If there happened to be someone concerned who has been damaged by the new will, which she believes does not reflect his expressed wishes, and that particular someone would not have minded if she got nothing in the will if that was his desire, since she is only the widow of a deceased son, but had been told that she would get the deceased son's share in appreciation of what she had done for him, and that's what was in the first will, but she has been thrown a sop in the new will apparently on the theory that she's as greedy as the rest and will accept a pittance rather than the nothing she might get if she blew the whistle, well, if there happened to be someone like that,

THEY GROSSLY OVERESTIMATED HER GREED AND UNDERESTIMATED HER CAPACITY TO STAND UP FOR MORAL PRINCIPLE AND THE RULE OF LAW !!!
.

1802 Bits

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Bertrand Russell: "The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt."

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

Jay's father died yesterday. I was having a late lunch with Daughter when Jay's eldest sister called to tell me. I feel guilty, because I was planning to go to Rochester to see him today. I was sure that he'd have at least a few more days.

That sureness came from my own arrogance. All my life people close to me who were on the way out have waited for me before they went. I feel a call, I go, I hold their hand, we talk, I tell them it's ok, and then they leave easily, while I'm holding them. It's happened so often I began to feel like that was my role, to ease the passage. Jay's father had told me many times that he found me the easiest to talk to, and in the past few years he often cried when we talked, cried about all the abilities he was losing and all that had been taken from him. He couldn't cry before anyone else.

I am comforted by the thought that Jay was with him. Of the living, his two youngest daughters and one of the caretakers were there (not the most calm group of people). The eldest daughter told me that they're still not sure that he'd had strokes, because scans showed nothing, but he had severe weakness on his left side, so that's what they assumed. I pointed out to her that that's the same side Jay had lost. Yeah, I think Jay was there, has been for a while, perhaps even pulling him.

I met up with Daughter and Hercules yesterday at a geocaching flash mob in a NJ park, after which they took me to find a nearby cache they thought would amuse me. It was right out in the open, at the base of a tree in the woods near the dog park. The owner of the cache had made a brown cement cast of her dog's poop, hollowed out underneath to hold the log book. I took one look, yelled "Raccoon poop!" and ran the other direction.

Daughter and Hercules laughed, but didn't explain it to the other cachers. I guess we don't want to start a panic, eh?

For Mothers' Day, Daughter gave me an essay, in her own handwriting, on what she loves about where she lives, and Hercules gave me a container of his own recipe peanut butter cookies. This was exactly what I wanted.

I had spent Friday evening with the man, sent him off on Saturday morning to visit his mother - a 10-12 hour drive.

I still don't understand the attraction. When I'm not with him, I wonder what I'm doing, and why. Why am I wasting time on something that I don't see as ever being anything more than what it is now. There's so much against this ... whatever it is, and I'm fully aware of that, and I'm too old to waste time. And yet, since the first time he touched me, I've had no interest in any other man, real or ideal. When I'm with him, I don't care about all the negatives, all the differences. I adore his mind, the way he sees so clearly. I find the timbre of his voice exciting, deep and slightly rough. He's technically not handsome, but when I see him I see handsome, I see beauty, I love his face, his body, the way he moves. I love sitting across a table from him.

I wish I could see the future.
.

1799 Up and Down Wednesday

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

I had another of those long lunches with Piper today. I took Clyde, the Pleo, so he could meet him, and during the course of the afternoon The Angel, Jim, and Vinnie stopped by, either at the office or at the restaurant, so they got to meet him, too.

I am amused at how different people have such different reactions to Clyde. It's almost always a different reaction than I would expect from that person.

This afternoon I got a call from Jay's eldest sister. Jay's father has had a series of strokes, and he isn't able to swallow. Today is his 91st birthday. They haven't yet decided what direction to go in treatment, but all agree he'd be a lot happier at home, no matter what else is decided.

He already has three live-in caregivers, so as soon as they can be trained in the new requirements of his care, he'll go home. We've agreed that the day after the transfer, I should go to visit.

Distance is our enemy here. The father lives in Rochester, NY, the eldest daughter is just south of Washington, DC, the next daughter lives near Boston, and the third daughter lives about 40 minutes south of me. So it's ironic that I, the daughter-in-law, despised wife of the deceased son, is actually, at five+ hours' drive, the closest.

I've been out of the loop for a long time. Looks like I'll be getting back in. But he always liked me (when he figured out who I was). Maybe I can do some good, finally.
.

852 Catching Up On Thoughts

Sunday, August 27, 2006

After living most of the hottest summer in ages with inadequate air conditioning, I am now freezing. I was so cold today, goosebumps and all, I considered going down to the basement and flipping all the switches and baffles to put the heat on. Then I checked the thermometer. It was 77F in the den, and 75F in the living room. I guess I've over-acclimated.

I left out some sessions I attended at the Mensa World Gathering. There was Jean Auel, who spoke about the research she had done for the Clan of the Cave Bear books, and one on current and new scams, wherein I learned a quick and easy way to counterfeit a $100 bill, the one on walking tours of Paris, and a talk by the Mensan who was on Beauty and the Geek (which I had watched, and which was a much better show than it sounded like it would be).

Shawn (nerd, maybe, but not geek) said that he had heard that Warner Brothers was looking for intelligent single guys, emphasis on single, for a reality show, and he was on a break and decided to check it out. He was interviewed, was offered the opportunity, accepted, and was told to show up at a mansion with enough clothes for a few days. What amazed us is that until they actually started taping, he had no idea what the show was named, what it was about, or that he'd be sharing a room with a beautiful woman. His most embarrassing moment was when he, listed as the boy scout leader, flaked out on the outdoor challenge, and threw up on camera. He was soooooo sweet.

Something else I forgot to mention, I did an informal survey of toes. Most people's big toe is longer than their other toes. My second toe is longer than my big toe. I gather that most people find it odd, because so many people look at my feet and say "Eeew!", "Weird!", "That's not normal!", "Ugly!" (Well, I find that the middle toe longer gives the end of the foot a nicely rounded shape. Big toe longer is ugly! It makes the foot look all lopsidedly pointy. Especially when the big toe is all bent sideways toward the middle. You deformed your foot trying to make it look like mine! So there!)

At the Gathering, a lot of people were wearing sandals, and I noticed something odd. On five out of six of the literally hundreds of Mensan feet I looked at, the second toe was longer than the big toe! So then I started looking at non-member feet (hotel guests without the badge, and at the Animal Kingdom), and the numbers were reversed! Very strange. Could there be a relationship between the length of one's second toe, and one's score on logic tests? Sort of like the relationship between the size and shape of a man's nose (not his feet, his nose) and his ... um ... wait a minute ... survey not yet complete....

An interesting statistic, the Gathering had members attending from 38 different countries, and from 49 US states. Wyoming provided no attendees. Somehow I'd have thought it would be Utah, but Wyoming isn't a complete shock, either. (Sorry, Wyoming. And Utah.)

Another thing I noticed was the absence of bare skin. Around here, the fashion among young women is extremely low-sling pants and skirts, and short tops, which leave between 1 and 9 inches of midriff bare. With the obvious exception of bathing suit parts, I didn't see any of that in either the resort or Disney World (and no, I don't recall any dress code, certainly not at the resort). The resort had a few thousand guests other than Mensans, from all over the country and the world, and almost all of them were wearing the waistbands at the waist (that's the narrowest part of the torso, just above the hip bones, for those who may have forgotten).

The few who were wearing low-riders were wearing long tops over them. When it was a skirt, especially, it looked odd. The band has to be tight to stay up on the hips, and if the woman had the least bit of excess hippage, it causes an ugly bulge, and without all the bare skin to distract one, the bulge looked sloppy. Especially above a skirt.

So, are our young women locally more daring? More desperate? Or just sadly out of fashion?

The Dodge minivan is still sick. For a few days it looked like it was getting better, didn't stall on the short trips I was comfortable giving it, but last weekend it started stalling again, on Tuesday the "check engine" light went on briefly, and on Wednesday it went on and stayed on. So it has an appointment with the dealership tomorrow. I'm so frustrated. I've been keeping a log, and when I stopped in at the dealership on my way to the fair on Thursday I tried to tell them what I've noticed about when it stalls, and they didn't want to hear it! They said, and I quote, "We'll just put it on the machine and the sensors will tell us what's wrong." Hey folks, we've been doing that for eight months and over $2,000 now, AND IT ISN'T WORKING!!!! Somebody has to do some LOGICAL THINKING about this. Sheesh!

I had mentioned that I didn't see any chess tournaments or even any boards at the Gathering. The other thing I missed was Carnelli. I thought Carnelli was a staple at all large gatherings. Maybe they don't do it any more because people have gotten too familiar with it and have memorized the best sequences? I'm not very good at Carnelli because my memory doesn't work that fast, but I love to watch it.

786 I Bought a Car

Monday, July 10, 2006

Busy day today. I got up early, drove to Mr. T.'s, picked up the minivan and drove it to the Chrysler-Dodge dealer's, talked to the service folks there, and then read my book for an hour until one of their people could give me a ride back to Mr. T.'s.

Then I stopped in at Piper's office to get some advice about what I could afford to pay for another car, but he wasn't in yet, so I went to the cafe down the block and had a late breakfast. Saw Piper's car arrive, called him, he said come on in, so I did. We ended up back at the same cafe for coffee (& tea).

He: "You can afford any new car you want. Why are you looking at used cars?"
Me: "Because I fully intend to buy a new car in a year or two, but when I do, I want to really research it. Test drive a lot. Talk to people. That takes more time than I have now."
He: "You don't have the time now? What's the rush?"
Me: "I don't want to keep paying rental car prices, and there's no guarantee when the minivan will be fixed. And I'm going to Orlando in early August, and I want something reliable to drive to the airport in Newark. I need something NOW. I'm essentially BUYING this flippin' rental car, and they STILL want me to give it back someday! I may as well buy a car I can resell later."

So he's cutting a check for me.

He asked exactly when my flight is, and it so happens he has meetings scheduled that afternoon near the airport, so he offered me a ride down. I said thank you, but I still have to get back home, and the long term parking isn't expensive, I don't mind driving. So when he went back to his office this afternoon, he rescheduled some other meetings so he can pick me up after the return flight, too. Very nice of him. It's only now, sitting here alone, that I remember that the last few times we've had lunch someplace we had to drive to, I drove, because his driving scares me. And I don't scare that easily!

Daughter, don't scold me, "You're leading him on!" He offered as a friend, and I accepted as a friend. He knows the score. I've often been told that I don't accept gifts or offers of help gracefully. I'm trying.

After leaving Piper, I went across the river to the Subaru/Suzuki dealer, and looked again at the used Suzuki Aerio sedan. I test drove it. It's a good thing I had read the reviews yesterday, so I was prepared for the strange steering (hard to describe - tight, and it doesn't feel connected to the wheels) and the way it revs very high before shifting. From what I'd read, I know that's normal for this model. The steering takes some getting used to, and it revs high until it's well warmed up. The speedometer is a digital readout instead of a needle on a dial, and it took me about 30 seconds to decide I really really do like that. You don't have to visually/mentally process it when you look at it.

I asked if the car was local (thinking "no Katrina car, thank you") and if the service records were available. The salesman wasn't sure where the car came from, but then he found the folder, and the car was originally purchased new from them, all the major service was done by them, and the previous owner is well known - he buys a new car every three years (when the "everything else" warranty runs out). I believe him. It still has the drivetrain warranty, so if there are major problems he's not mentioning, it's their problem. So far so good.

I bought it.

It's a bit funny looking - like a cross between a sedan, an SUV, and a tank. Here's a picture of a 2003 Suzuki Aerio sedan. Mine's white, with barely visible sparkles in the paint. Four door. CD player. A/C. Power everything. About 36,480 miles on it. Four years remaining on the drivetrain warranty, and I also bought a one-year extension on the "everything else" warranty. Back seats (split) fold down if you want to put long stuff in the trunk. Nice clean gray suede-like upholstery. No evidence of any bodywork or replaced glass. Less than $9,000.

I asked the sales manager why they were selling it for less than the Blue Book value, and he looked stunned for a moment, then waved his arm at the used car lot, and said "We're mainly a new car dealer. We get a LOT of trade-ins. We gotta sell 'em. We're not losing money on the sale...." (Note to self - If I ever buy a new car there, drive a hard deal on the trade-in value they'll allow me. There's apparently some negotiating room.)

They'll handle financing (I plan to pay it off as soon as Piper's check arrives, so I don't care what rate they get, and NYS doesn't allow penalties for early payment), registration, plates, insurance, etc. I get to pick it up Wednesday, at noon, all legal and ready to go.

When I got home, there was a message on the phone from the Chrysler/Dodge shop regarding the minivan. It will be finished and ready to go tomorrow. Duh? I called them back "right quick I tell ya what!"

He: "The front brake rotors are pitted and it needs new spark plugs."
Me: "Ok. No problem. I did feel a pull in the brakes. And the hesitation-stalling-check engine light problem?"
He: "That's the O2 sensor. The connections were bent."
Me: "The O2 sensor? Which one?"
He: "The same one that's been replaced twice already. It looks like when somebody put one in, they forced it, jammed it in, and it bent the connections. So the computer was getting intermittent bad data, and was feeding the engine based on bad data, and that's what was causing the hesitation and stalling, and the check engine lights. We just straightened out the connections. No charge."
Me: "And this is going to fix everything?"
He: "Yup. 'Course you'll have to drive it a bit to make sure, but those bent connections were definitely a problem."

The latest O2 sensor was installed by the second-choice service station, remember? The guys I forced to honor the warranty and do it free. If this DOES fix the problem, you can bet they're going to hear about it. I guess that's the automotive equivalent of spitting in my food.

781 Car Shopping

Thursday, July 6, 2006

We are supposed to have a rare few days without rain starting today, so I had planned to spray the prickly stickery nasty stuff that's trying to return to the cleared side yard.

Instead, after Mr. T.'s call about the van, I went to the Chrysler Dodge dealership down the road to talk to someone in the service department and make an appointment for Monday.

Then, on impulse, I decided to go car "window shopping". Just to find out what's available, and how much I'm likely to have to pay.

Since this is a "backup car", which I might trade in on a "real car" in a year or two, I don't want to pay much. I will consider new or used, depending on value for price. Therefore, my criteria:
Small
Simple
Cheap
Dependable
No more than three years old
Less than 60,000 miles
Preferably an import
"Certified", with decent warranty
I can take to Mr. T. for his opinion
Seller will service, and is reasonably close to my home
Color, style, and appearance are of no importance

I hit five new-and-used dealers, and it looks like I'll pay at a minimum $15,000 for new, and $9,000 for used within my criteria.

The 2006 Kia Rio is supposed to be the best value for the money, and that's what I'm driving now from Enterprise and I like it ok for a backup car, but the nearest Kia dealership is more than 30 miles away, and that's too far if something goes wrong during the warranty period. So I don't know.

You might ask, "Why not just bite the bullet and buy the 'real car' now?" Because I need something RIGHT NOW, as soon as possible, so I can get out from under the rental fees, and definitely before the end of July, and I haven't done the research yet to select a real car. Eventually I want a hybrid, but they're not ready for me yet. And I don't know yet what shape the minivan will be in, so it's hard to plan.

Oh, something funny happened. The first place I went was to a used car dealer that I know. He said that he had only one car on the lot that met my criteria, and it was a really nice one. He handed me the keys. I got in, started it, and ...

... the "check engine" light went on!!!!

And stayed on.

The salesman looked shocked.

Gee, maybe it's me?

780 Van News - Expensive News!

Thursday, July 6, 2006

Mr. T. called this morning. He said that he went to the local Chrysler dealer and talked to the service guy. They figure the problem is probably (no guarantees) in the wiring harness to the computer. Mr. T. says the dealership might be able to tweak and repair it, and they have better access to parts, so I should take the van to them. Mr. T. would have to replace rather than repair, and that's $1300 to $1800. And it could still be that much at the dealer.

And even if it's "fixed", I'm nervous. I'm thinking I'm going to have to buy a small, cheap, maybe used car, for just in case. In the past six months, I've driven something like six weeks worth of rental cars, and that's ridiculous.

Mr. T. says it's time to get rid of the van. I suspect what he's really saying is "I don't want to work on this dog anymore. Go buy me something nicer and simpler to work on."

In good shape, because of its rarity and the demand for handicap-equipped minivans, I could get close to $30,000 for it. But I won't get much if it's not dependable. It looks like I'd have to fix it, THEN sell it, but if it's fixed well enough to sell, I won't want to sell it. Deep breath.

My earlier moans about finances are increased. I am very unhappy.

It's not like I don't have it, but I'd have to spend from working principal (as opposed to a savings account, which since the reroofing is zero), and that's against my principles. Spending principal reduces my income - forever! It especially grates this year. We moved me out of 100% equity (stock) and into a mix of equity, fixed, and money market. Piper keeps saying that all these tax-free bonds he's buying me will "save a fortune in income tax" thereby significantly increasing my effective annual income. The other day, I startled him by pointing out that it will take seven years! of tax free interest income to make up for the enormous capital gains tax I have to pay this year (out of principal!) on all that stock we sold.

I'm getting really nervous. Mother is not happy.

763 My Mini-Van Is Trying to Kill Me

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Got the call from Mr. T. this afternoon that the van was all fixed and ready to go. It seems it was again (third time) a bad sensor. The first two were the O2 sensor, this time it was the cam position sensor. $165. I paid for the repair, transferred my junk from the rental car back to the van, and drove the rental to Kingston to return it. Enterprise provided a driver to take me back to Mr. T.'s.

Started up the van, got about two blocks down the road, and --- the check engine light went on.

I caught Mr. T. in the parking lot as he was closing up. He said "You're kidding. I drove it to Rhinebeck and back this morning to test it, and it was fine. You drive it a half mile, and it breaks." He says it's time to trade it in. "It's seven years old, and it's going to start costing more to fix it than it's worth."

Well, it's not really seven years old. It's a Braun conversion Chrysler-Dodge Entervan (watch the little movie at the link), so although it's a 2000 model, it didn't go on the market until 2001. The odometer just turned 40,000 miles. The only thing that has ever gone wrong with it is those silly sensors. And it's more than just a mini-van. It's an easy-to-load enclosed "pickup truck", a camper, and a passenger car all rolled into one. I can stand up straight inside. I love it! I'm not ready to give it up.

But it's killing me.

So, it goes back in early tomorrow morning. I may or may not have to rent another car. Bleck.

#507 Tired. $400 Worth.

At noon today I headed out in search of new tires. By 4 pm I was tired, tired, and $400 poorer. The new tires are "rated" for 70,000 miles. I'll be happy if they last 50k.

When I asked if I could get 4 new tires and an alignment "right now", the dealer said yeah, no problem.

Problem.

They couldn't get the van onto the "alignment machine", whatever that is, because there was some kind of something or other that caught on the dropped floor of the van (the notorious mere 4 inches of clearance - I have the same problem with automatic carwashes). So he called their store in Kingston, and they didn't think they could do it either. I called around myself. A garage in Red Hook that is familiar with the van from other visits thought maybe they could, with some kind of ramp arrangement, so I've got an appointment for the 13th. As in Friday the 13th. A week and a half away.

So I told them to go ahead and put the new tires on, and I'll figure out the alignment later. The folks I ordered the van through will probably know where I can get it done for sure, they handle a lot of Braun conversions, but they're still on vacation.

Problem.

They couldn't get the van on a lift. They had to jack it up and do each side individually.

But I guess I wasn't the worst problem they had today. While I was waiting, a truck pulled in with the biggest travel trailer I've ever seen, one of those gazillion-wheeled jobbies. They had a flat tire on the trailer. I bet that was fun. I'll bet it wouldn't go on a lift, either.

Then I stopped at the post office and picked up a gift that had been waiting for me since last week. One of Jay's sisters has sent me the most gorgeous velour robe, royal purple (that seems to be my new color - everything's coming up purple), and it is exquisitely soft. I've never felt a robe so light and soft. I've never even felt a sweater so soft, not even silk or cashmere.

I got home at 4:30 and started clearing the remainder of the driveway. The snow was that solid packed stuff that makes nice igloo blocks, about 10 inches of it. I was so happy that the extension cord reached from the garage to the edge of the plowed section. There was no way I could have gotten the snowthrower over the plow piles to get it any closer.

It normally takes me 1 to 1.5 hours to clear the entire driveway. All I had to do this evening was half the flat part at the top, and it took me over an hour. The snow was so dense, I had to keep stopping to allow the auger to chew its way through. And this is a BIG machine.

(Something very strange - I just did a spellcheck, and although it highlighted several words, I opted to change nothing. Then, when I got out of spellcheck and read the entry again, I found that "snowthrower", in the second paragraph up from here, had been changed to "contrariety". Huh? It may be an accurate synonym, but how did spellchecker know that? (And how the heck did it get "contrariety" from "snowthrower", anyway?)) I don't understand....

Later update - the 10 inches of snow was an estimate. I just measured. It was 13 inches. For some reason, our street gets more snow than just below the hill on the highway. We are high, but not that high, so I don't know why. And before anyone yells at me, yes, I have had alignments before - at least two, possibly three on this van, I just don't remember where.

#506 Home, to Snow/Slush

I'm home again. I went to LaGrange yesterday about 1 pm, and stayed until about 6:30 this evening. Ten inches of snow on top of freezing rain was predicted, so I loaded the snowthrower into the van and took it with me. It would make quick work of Roman's driveway. I stopped on the way and arranged for the Hairless Hunk to plow the main part of my drive so that I could get the van (and snowthrower) up when I got home.

The storm started last night with mixed rain, sleet, and snow, and continued all night. I was surprised that in the morning there was only about two inches of very wet slush on the driveway. Then today there were light snow showers all day. But again, there was very little accumulation on the ground, although there were maybe 4 inches of mushy snow on the deck.

Imagine my surprise when I got home and found somewhere between 8 and 10 inches of heavy wet snow in the driveway. A path had been plowed to the top, and the plow heaps were higher than the hood of the van. As requested, HH had not plowed most of the flat area at the top (although he had to do some to be able to turn his truck around).

I guess we did get a little more than LaGrange got.

I'll have to finish it with the snowthrower tomorrow. I hope it doesn't freeze solid overnight. I could have a real mess out there.

Also tomorrow I have to do something about the tires on the van. When I drove to New Jersey back before Christmas, I noticed that at about 63 mph the front and the steering wheel were shimmying. I assumed it was the alignment or something. But it has been getting worse. Now it shimmies badly below 35 and above 45. Roman looked at the tires and found a 1-inch jagged tear in the driver's side front tire sidewall. Very strange. How could that happen? Now I'm worried that maybe a belt has shifted? I drove all the way home from LaGrange this evening at 40-45 mph. It took an hour. So not only did I drive home slowly, I had a steel grip on the steering wheel.

There's been something wrong with those tires since day one. They have worn very badly on the outside edges of the tread, but they were never underinflated. They have less than 40,000 miles on them. I think tomorrow I'll replace at least the front two. Next summer, the rear two.

I overstayed my welcome in LaGrange, I think. If we don't have to get out because he has to go to work, that happens. I'm such a pain sometimes. Well, maybe usually. I can't seem to let things go. I attack his reticence. And I can't seem to say goodbye because it's like I'm afraid one of these days he'll come to his senses and this will be the last I see of him. So, I sense he's anxious to get to other matters, and my presence distracts him he says, no matter how I try to stay out of his way, and then I turn kittenish and outrageous, and then things spin out of control. I hate when I do that. But it had been two weeks since I'd seen him last, and I was starving. I don't think he understands that.

.... My insecurities are showing.

To bed early tonight. I hope I can get to sleep in decent time. Much work to do tomorrow.