5061 Waterloo

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

The less people know, the more stubbornly they know it

 – Osho --

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I've managed to make it up to the Hudson Valley house every weekend lately.  Not that I manage to get much done every trip, bit every little bit is a step ahead.  That doesn't leave a lot of time to fool around here.

The weekend of April 29, as I was leaving on Monday, I decided not to leave my notebook (notepad?  mini laptop?  whatever the heck it is) there.  I had planned to leave it, since that's pretty much the only place I use it, but I carry an overnight bag every trip not because I need anything while there, but in case something goes wrong and I have to stay at a hotel.  I hate ending up at a hotel without my toothbrush and toothpaste, and something to sleep in.  Since my phone is useless for anything but calls, I decided maybe I should carry the notebook all the time, too.  Just in case.  I'm less likely to have an emergency if I'm prepared.  That's just the way it works.

So I packed it up and put it on the porch next to the front door so I could grab it on the way out.

Naturally, I forgot it.

I didn't notice until I was unloading the van here.  If I had realized I'd forgotten it at any point on the highway, I'd have turned around and gone back for it.  So I called the Hairless Hunk and asked him to take care of it for me and I'd collect it this past weekend.

He hid it behind some junk on the porch.  Sigh.   Oh well, it didn't get wet and was still there....

This past weekend's trip, I managed to clear out almost all of the pantry closet, producing four bags of very heavy garbage and one of containers to recycle.  It was all stuff from before Jay's illness, so everything in there was like 16 years old.  All kinds of mixes, spices, varieties of pasta, all kinds of rice, five kinds of flours, just a lot of stuff.  I was really good about dumping it all.  There was about 10 pounds of sugar, and I hesitated, thinking even though I won't use it maybe Daughter could, but then I shrugged and dumped it, too.  I suspected she'd be mad at me for not tossing it.  We had a lot of trouble with mice, so almost everything was in glass or heavy plastic containers (many of which I kept, dumping just the contents), so there was nothing wrong with it but age. I was amazed that the three kinds of brown sugar was even still soft.  Tossed it all.

I finally lost my determination, met my defeat, when I found the three unopened bottles of Pickapeppa Sauce.  I love that stuff.  It's made in Jamaica, has always been a bit difficult to find, and is impossible to find around here.  I can buy it on Amazon, but only by the case, and very expensively.

I brought them home.  I won't tell Daughter how I failed.  I'm cooking a pork chop for dinner, just for the Pickapeppa.
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5067 Quick trip north

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Abraham Lincoln: "It has been my experience that folks who have no vices

have very few virtues."

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I had intended to drive upriver to the old house last Saturday, but I started the day with a complaining back, so I cancelled the trip.  Then on Sunday I got an email from the Hairless Hunk.  He had made one of his usual inspection trips around the outside of the house, and found that one of the basement windows was open, and the screen had been removed.  That worried me.  There are copper thieves up there.  (HH doesn't have a key to the house.)

So I drove up late Sunday evening.

That window had been used by the guys installing the A/C last summer.  They said then that the window wasn't latched when they opened it.  I never checked whether they'd latched it when they were finished.

Nope.  It wasn't latched, and they had apparently not replaced the screen.  It probably blew open in a storm or something, had swing in at the bottom, just a few inches.  There was no sign that anyone had been in the house, although it was obvious rain had come in.  So I latched it.  That latch does take a little convincing.  HH had put the screen near the front porch.  I took it inside, but didn't replace it in the window (mostly because it was awkward).

I drove back early on Monday.

A while ago the Nugget and I had been in a Pier 1 and she fell madly in love with a Papa-San chair - those huge round pole rattan thingies.  She requested one (right now!  this one!) for her birthday (some months off), and I told her I didn't need to buy one, that I had one in my old house that I could bring down for her.  The last few trips up I had driven the little car, and every time she met me in the driveway on my return to ask if I'd brought the chair back for her.  She hadn't forgotten!

So this trip I took the van (that chair is HUGE), and made a special point of loading up the chair.  It's now in the dining room, but it will have to go somewhere else when I bring my furniture down.  I don't understand why this house is supposed to be larger in square feet, but my furniture simply isn't going to all fit.  I have one more small bedroom here, but every other room is smaller than in the old house.  I don't understand.

The Nugget doesn't want to use the chair like a seat, you know, with the round part and cushion tilted forward.  She wants the rattan cup and cushion set straight up.  She looks like a little bird in a nest when she's in it.

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Nutella.  It seems like every so often I have to learn about it all over again.  Every few years I buy it with high hopes, having forgotten the last time I guess, and every time I end up throwing it out.  That stuff doesn't improve anything you add it to, it's thick and dry and it glops up my mouth.  It sticks to the roof of my mouth and my gums, but unlike peanut butter, no amount of tongue action loosens it.  I dislike the taste and the texture.  Maybe it might work heated and poured over ice cream --- but I doubt it.

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I'm hearing and reading that "(adjective)er than the next" construction a lot more lately.  I wish people would think about the meaning of what they say.  Sheesh.  If "each one is weirder than the next," that means the first one is the weirdest, and each one following is less weird, right?

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Bloggers are dropping like flies, so I've been wandering around trying to find new ones (that don't think they're hot stuff and should be paid for blogging, you know?)  I came across this guy: http://darwinfish2.blogspot.com.   About half of his posts are sports-oriented, which would interest mostly only Pittsburgh and Baltimore fans, but he also gets into social commentary, meme-destroying, and political rants, and those posts are great.  Y'all gotta just wait for them, and the wait is worth it.
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5066 Trip North

Friday, April 1, 2016

[A] computer is a stupid machine with the ability to do incredibly smart things, 

while computer programmers are smart people with the ability to do incredibly

stupid things. They are, in short, a dangerously perfect match.

– Bill Bryson, in I'm a Stranger Here Myself –

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I went up to the country house Tuesday, returned Thursday.  I actually managed to get some stuff done this time.  I cleaned out the little desk in the living room, and started on the kitchen pantry.  Man, I'll never have to buy another envelope in my entire life!  I can't believe how much stuff was in that tiny desk!

The pantry also revealed some surprises.  I guess once upon a time I actually cooked.  There was some delicious-looking stuff in there.  Unfortunately, it all probably predates Jay's illness, so even if it escaped the mice, it's probably no good.  There's like six different kinds of dry pasta and several types of rice in glass containers, and I seriously considered just bringing it all home, but Daughter says that even macaroni has a bit of wheat oil that would have gone rancid, so no.  It might not kill anyone, but probably would taste "off".  So I dumped loads of dry stuff into a garbage bag and set the containers aside for recycle or reuse.  I brought home four boxes of roasting bags, five in each box, gave two to Daughter.  There are several bottles of flavored vinegars still there.  I wonder if they'd be still good.  Vinegar never goes bad, right?

That pantry is wonderful.  It has sliding doors like on a very large closet, and there are six or seven shelves on each side, packed solid.  I managed to clear two and a half shelves.  I'm going to have to get faster.

I had taken the little car, so I was limited in what I could bring back, but I met my goal of two large bags of garbage, one bag of paper and containers for recycle, and two bags of "keep" stuff.  I'm still overwhelmed by the amount of work, but at least I'm making progress.  And with real A/C, I'll be more likely to get some real stuff done this summer.

(Damn Daughter.  She doesn't think I am capable of making decisions.  She met me when I pulled into the driveway and helped unload the car.  She took the recycle and garbage bags away from me, said she'd put them in her cans.  She thinks I'm unaware that she's afraid that between now and garbage collection on Monday (recycle on Wednesday) I'll go through the bags and save stuff.  Sheesh!)

Oh, speaking of summer and A/C, the country house is expecting snow this weekend.  I keep saying that our last snow had always been the first week of April.  True again.
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5063 I can't win

Friday, March 11, 2016

Social media has raised writing to a new low.

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I'd been trying to get up to the country house for the past three weeks, but there was always somthun....  I was all ready to go this past Tuesday, but a big chunk of metal fell out from underneath the van onto the driveway.  I think it's the thingy that you're supposed to use for placing a jack, but until I find out how badly rusted things are under there, I don't trust the frame not to break in half on the NYS Thruway.  So I drove up Wednesday morning with the little car, and returned last night.

Didn't get a damn thing done up there, but that's ok.  I had a late lunch with Piper.  I fired him.  It's ok.  I think he's angry, and he thinks I'm making a mistake, but that's ok.  (What bugs me is that he seems to think he has done a wonderful job with my investments.  What he doesn't know is that I've kept track of my "pre-Piper" portfolio online, and if we had never touched that stuff, left it as it was, it would be 50%+ higher now, even considering what I have pulled out over time.  The trouble, the reason I went to him in the beginning, was that it was all oil companies, mining companies, technology, and chemicals.   I felt a need to diversify.  I guess I should have left it as it was.)

I got a late start returning, I knew I'd hit the end of rush hour traffic on the Garden State Parkway, but that's ok.  I wanted to be home by 8 if possible to catch Big Bang Theory, but if not I could watch it today on CBS.com (which I did).  The GPS predicted an arrival time of 7:32. 

BUT!  There was an accident on the GSP.  After 25 minutes of creeping in the middle of the three lanes - 3mph for 3 car lengths, stop, wait, 3mph, stop, wait, repeat - I finally got to the point where I could see all the flashing lights way ahead.  By then there was no way I'd be home by 8:30, let alone 8, but at least I knew that my clutch foot would finally get some relief soon.  The BMW does NOT like moving at idle speed.  It took a lot of coordination between the clutch and gas to keep it from stalling.  My left foot was getting tired.

So, at one point I stopped after creeping at the usual 3 mph, and within less than a second after stopping, I got hit from the back.  Bonk.  The car jumped a little.

I had to move over through the right lane bumper-to-bumper traffic to get to the shoulder and find out what my bumper looked like, and that maneuver left me more shaken than getting hit did.  Amazingly, the huge white pickup who had hit me followed me over.  We couldn't see a damn thing, it being dark, but we started to trade info when a cop showed up out of nowhere and shooed us back into our vehicles.  He took our documents and info, said I could get an accident report at a certain website, and sent us back onto the road.

(And then, I got lost when I got off the Garden State onto what was supposed to be Rte. 9.  The GPS lady kept telling me to bear right on the exit, but I was still distracted and my left-right confusion kicked in so I very carefully went left and ended up on the NJ Turnpike headed north, exactly the wrong direction.  I ended up wandering through city streets to get back to route 9, near Newark, of all places.)

Today, in daylight, I got a look at the bumper.  There's a smear of white paint, and a star of hairline cracks all of maybe 2.5 inches by 2 inches.  It's near the backup sensor, so I don't know if that got messed up or not.

I called my insurance company today, I'll get some kind of appraisal on Monday, and then whatever comes next.

I'm almost embarrassed to make any noise about this.  If there's no hidden damage, then it's almost nothing.  On the other hand, it's NOT nothing and not my fault.  On the third hand, I know from an earlier incident that BMW doesn't like to repair plastic bumpers, and a replacement bumper will be over $1,000.   And the guy was so nice to follow me over to the shoulder.  He says he was hit from behind and pushed into me.  Whoever hit him just kept on going, and remains unidentified forever.  He could have done that, too.  This is NJ.  I'd almost expect him to have kept going.  I'd hate to be the one to make him regret pulling over.

Oh, well. 
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5056 Coming out

Thursday, February 11, 2016

"No one really listens to anyone else, and if you try it for a while you'll see why."

-- Mignon McLaughlin --

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Today is my next-younger brother's birthday.  I think he's 67.  Dear Big-Little Sister and Daughter are in close touch (I'm a social slob, I leave family contact to them) and Sister told Daughter that Brother has throat/oral/mouth? cancer.

I don't know what to think about that.  I haven't seen or spoken to him in more than 35 years, and I don't want to.  The last contact I had with him was when we (Ex#2, Daughter, and I) were living in the DC area, and for some undisclosed reason (Mom later hinted at his being in trouble with some drug cartel or something) he had to get out of Florida and hide for a while, so he came to live with us.  It was not a good experience.  He may or may not have done something unforgivable while he was living with us, that's murky because Daughter was only 3 or 4 then and didn't tell me about it for many years, so I don't know, but given some things my late baby sister said I believe in the possibility if not the actuality, anyway he was very disruptive while with us and then he disappeared with no notice, leaving me to deal with phone calls and threats from very scary people looking for him.  And he never explained what was going on or said thank you (or paid back the money I lent him).  He just disappeared.  So, it's like he's a stranger.  I have no feelings.

I had more of a reaction to the news about Evan Morris, the "Word Detective" guy.  He's been battling progressive MS for years, and has now been diagnosed with Stage 4  cancer.  He and his wife and a herd of adopted ex-feral cats live way out in the sticks, and their 19-year-old car died, and they have no means to buy another.  I really feel for him.  The link above goes to a letter to those of us subscribers who have been enjoying his column for years.

Sister has given rides to Brother to his treatments.  I admire my Big-Little Sister.  She has even greater reason to write off Brother than I, but she is capable of more compassion and forgiveness than I.

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I've been reading old posts in this blog.  You know, memories are not always very accurate.  I loved the country house, loved the countryside, all the things to do there, all the friends and acquaintances.  I went out for lunch or dinner with friends at least three times a week, and there was something interesting going on almost every weekend.  I remember all the good stuff.  In fact, I was so deluded as to think that I never felt cold in that house.

Wrong!

The winters were brutal!  The house is on a ridge, higher than surrounding land, so I got more snow and wind.  The 300 foot driveway was constantly buried in snow, ice, slush, a horror, and it was not always easy to find someone to clear it.  If the snow was soft enough that I could run the snowthrower, it took hours to do it myself, and the snowthrower was constantly breaking down.  We were constantly losing electricity because of downed wires, which meant no heat, no water (no well pump).   And even though the house was technically tight and the thermostat said the temperature was constant, every time the sun went down, I felt so cold. 

In the spring and fall, there were storms, ice storms and wind storms, that took out branches and whole trees on my property.  One year I lost more than 23 trees.  I don't know how there's any trees left in my woods!

In the summer it was the weeds, and raspberries, and wild roses that threatened to overrun everything - a constant losing battle.  Then there was the yellow jackets, who built nests in, on, and under anything that held still for more than a few hours.  I had to be careful every time I opened a car door, or filled a car gas tank, because there was likely a nest in there.  And then there were the ground-nesting hornets that made it dangerous to walk across the lawn, let alone mow.  And the chipmunks who undermined the driveway, causing cave-ins.  And the mice who rampaged in the attic, and died in the walls.

Old blog posts remind me that it wasn't all that idyllic.  At my current age and physical state, I'm not sure I could handle it.  Well, maybe I could, but I absolutely don't want to anymore.

I've about decided the only thing I really miss are the daffodils.  And Jay.

I think I'm finally ready to do something about it.
.

5054 Retreat

Sunday, February 7, 2016

"Chess is as elaborate a waste of human intelligence as you can find

outside an advertising agency."

-- Raymond Chandler --

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I saw the first robin in the front yard this morning.

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As I mentioned, I've been reading my blog posts from 2006,7,8, and I think I am finally cured of wanting to move back up there to the old house  The winters were BRUTAL!  I don't think I would be capable of handling that driveway any more.  I do think it's time to let go, and be glad of it.
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5047 Fun with locks

Thursday, January 21, 2016

"The higher the buildings, the lower the morals."

-- Noel Coward --

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Dilbert, Scott Adams, Thursday, January 21, 2016

 

This reminded me of an incident when I was working.  We'd just moved into a brand new building, with four floors, and maybe six aisles of offices on each floor.  We froze at first, and then somebody noticed a thermostat on the wall,  An unprotected thermostat.  It didn't show the ambient temperature, but did show the setting.  So, naturally, somebody boosted the setting.  And it got colder.  So someone else boosted it again.  It got even colder.  Repeat, repeat.  We were freezing our tails off, and building maintenance couldn't figure it out.

What we didn't realize (but the maintenance people did, but couldn't put it together) was that the folks on the other side of the building were roasting.  They kept pushing the setting down on their thermostat, and it just got hotter. Repeat, repeat, repeat.  Once we found that out, the answer was obvious.  The thermostats were hooked up wrong.  The thermostat on our aisle controlled the temperature "somewhere else" (I don't think they ever figured out where) and so on. Instead of rewiring them so each thermostat matched its zone, maintenance just set them all to the same setting, and then put locked boxes over them, so we all alternately froze and roasted together as the sun rose and set.

That was the same building with the locked doors.  We all had confidential stuff in our offices, so the rule was that your office door had to be locked whenever you left your office.  So the office doors were like hotel doors - if it closed, it locked.  This led to two problems:  people were constantly locking themselves out, and some worried that if they closed their door while in their offices, nobody could get to them if there was a medical emergency or something.  If you knock on a closed door, are they out, or are they dead?

It took me about five seconds to figure the latches out.  They were the type that could be popped open with a credit card.   Unbelievable, but true. The word quickly got around that if you were locked out, Silk could get you back in.

I was in great demand those first few weeks, but I never told or showed anyone else how to do it.  Finally, my manager locked himself out, and someone told him to get me, I was faster than maintenance.  I told him to go away for a few minutes, and I popped his door.  I guess he figured it out, because within a week all 250+ doors in the building had new latches - the kind that couldn't be popped.  Plus, they no longer locked automatically, and you couldn't lock them from the inside.  You had to lock them with a key from outside.  So that protected the confidential stuff, kept people from locking themselves out, and ensured that no one would be unconscious on the floor in a locked office (outside of a Sherlock Holmes scenario, anyway).

More recently, at the country house, on one trip up I had forgotten the keys, couldn't get into the house, and had to turn around and drive all the way back without accomplishing anything.  So after that, I left the back door to the garage unlocked, because the door from the garage to the laundry room could be popped if I hadn't locked the deadbolt.  That way, if I ever drove up and had forgotten the keys, I could still get in.  (No, I prefer not to leave a key with anyone or outside somewhere.  I've had bad experiences with that.)

Then one day shortly after that, the Hairless Hunk sent me an email, that he had checked the doors and found the garage door unlocked, so he locked it.  Sigh.  I thanked him, and now the country house key permanently resides in my purse.

I have taught myself over the years to never lock a door unless I am actually holding the key to that door in my hand, the same hand I use to lock the door.  So getting locked out of the house or car is very rare for me.  It's happened maybe four times in my long life, and usually only because the key in my hand is the wrong key.  Nevertheless, Daughter and I have a key to each other's house, just in case, mostly for taking mail in or caring for beasties.

The one time I locked myself out here, Daughter was out and didn't come home for hours, and naturally, I didn't have my cell, either.  Or clothes.  I was in my robe and barefoot.  When she finally got home, she rolled her eyes and said, "Mother, you have a key to my house, and you could just go in and get the key for your house, you know where it is."  I just let her think about that for a minute.  "Oh.  Ne'mind."

Jay's father had those hotel locks on all his exterior doors.  As he got older and more absentminded, I mentioned to Jay's sister that maybe that wasn't such a good idea.  She got all snippy and informed me that they were MUCH safer than locks you had to actively lock, he ALWAYS has his keys in his pocket, she and her husband have the same kind of locks, and implied that I was an idiot.

Just a few weeks after that conversation, Fred let his little doggy out the back door in the morning, but it had snowed heavily the night before, so he stepped out onto the patio to help the dog through a snow drift, and, 'click'.   He was standing there in pajamas and robe and scuff slippers, in a fenced backyard in Rochester, NY, in knee-deep snow.  Luckily, a neighbor had a spare key, and it was early enough that they were still home.   Fred had to walk through knee deep snow in virtually bare feet, climb the fence, plow through to the road to the neighbor's house.  It was a bad scene for a frail man in his nineties.  The locks were changed shortly thereafter, and the sister never said a word to me about it.

One of the local Meetup groups for singles has regular "lock and key" parties.  I've never been to one, so I'm not sure of the details, but I gather that attendance is restricted so that there equal number of males and females ("uh, no you can't sign up unless we get another male...").  Each attendee gets a lock or a key, and then you have all kinds of fun finding the lock or key that matches your key or lock, and then you're supposed to spend the rest of the evening in conversation with that person.

I have zero interest in participating in anything like that, but I'd love to be a fly on the wall.  I imagine maybe there might be a few who find surprisingly fascinating someone they wouldn't otherwise approach, but mostly I suspect there's a lot of disappointment and frustration.  And a lot of not hiding that disappointment and frustration.

Has anybody ever done that?  How did it go? Would you even consider it?
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5046 Brush fire 5 - real estate taxes

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

"Fundamentalism isn't about religion, it's about power."

-- Salmon Rushdie --

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I recently read the book The Martian, by Andy Weir.  They made it into a movie, which is out now.  The book is chock full of chemistry and  physics; Jay would have loved it.  I suspect the movie has a different emphasis.  I think the hard science part was all good, as far as I know, but I did find one part that doesn't ring true:  the potatoes.

 The abandoned astronaut turns the habitat into a potato farm, in order to generate enough food to last until he can be rescued.  Their food supply had included some potatoes, meant for a treat for Thanksgiving or something.  He decides he can cut them into pieces and grow them.  

Just one problem with that idea.  Potato sprouts are poisonous, so commercial potatoes sold in the US in the past few decades have been treated to inhibit sprouting.  If you cut up American "eating potatoes" and stick them in the ground, they'll just sit there and rot.  If you want to grow potatoes, you have to buy untreated "seed potatoes".   Untreated potatoes, called "sets", are available from like Agway and other garden supply stores, but they are unlikely to be included in the astronaut's food supplies because, hey, they might sprout.

Some of us are old enough to remember buying potatoes in the grocery store that had long white sprouts growing out through the ventilation holes in the bags.  Mothers would let kids put a potato eye in a saucer of water and grow a little potato plant.  You don't see that any more.  There's a reason for that.  Today's potatoes have tiny dry spots where the eyes used to be.  No sprouting allowed.

The astronaut's potatoes should not have sprouted.

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I usually get a real estate tax bill for the country house in late September, due in October.  I seem to recall getting a notice that the bills would be going out late (but of course I can't find that notice now).  Along about the end of December, I noticed that I still hadn't seen the bill.  I had also hadn't received any late notices.  So I called the town tax office, and yeah, the bills had gone out (on time, she says), and yeah, I'm in arrears.  And, no, I can't pay it now, because their office is no longer collecting taxes.  Duh?

I swear I never received the bill.

Two years ago we had a serious problem with mis-delivered mail here.   I was getting mail for other people, at least one a week, sometimes two.  I always stuck it back it the mailbox with a note on it to please redirect it.  You KNOW people had to be getting my mail, right?

Well, it's started again.  I get mail for someone else about once a week, usually a close neighbor.  I usually hand deliver it if they're close, even if it's "spam" mail --- I figure it's not my place to decide what they do or do not want.  I'm wondering how other people handle it.  Do they just throw it out?  Do they open and read it?  I know there are people (really) who think that if they receive mail or packages addressed to someone else, they are allowed to keep it.  

So, what can I do about the unpaid taxes?  The clerk said that unpaid taxes are turned over to the county, then when the county sends out the bills for school taxes in the spring, the unpaid amount will be included in that bill.  That's gonna be a bunch of money, and with my investment situation in turmoil, I'm not sure I'll have it.  

Just another emotional storm.  Ho Hum.

Oh, and my back is out.
Oh, and I planned to head upriver Thursday, returning Saturday, but a major snow storm is predicted, so I guess not.

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

Later update - See the comments for more on potatoes and  sprouting.
. 

5045 Brush fire 4 - homeowner's insurance

Monday, January 18, 2016

So many religions. So little God.

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A little history:  I closed on the city house in October of 2010.  I was mostly living in the country house, going back and forth, few days camping in the new house, few days sorting and packing in the old house, moving small stuff bit by bit.  In fact, Jasper was living upriver until January 2011, when I finally brought him down.  The old house needed a lot of work before I could sell it, but I figured that I could finish everything by summer of 2012 at the latest.  In fact, if I finished by then, I even had a buyer.

And then on April 1, 2011, I had the kidney problem.  The mistakes and ineptitude of doctors had me out of action all summer.  Simply driving for 10 minutes or climbing a flight of stairs had me bleeding and cramping, and then after that it took me many months to get my strength back.  In 2012 I was starting to get in gear again, and then Sandy hit, and I spent the end of 2012 and the beginning of 2013 in the hospital with what they said was a very bad case of pneumonia, but I suspect was actually an infection from the rampant mold left over from Sandy.  (Probably actually Legionnaires.)  So, more months of trying to get my strength back.  That was most of the summer of 2013.  In the meantime, I got older.  So did the country house.

By 2014 I'd lost my buyer, so there wasn't the urgency.  I got lazy.  I was more interested in playing with the Nugget.  Plus, in the winter I had to contend with snow and ice on the long uphill driveway, which I didn't feel capable of climbing by foot anymore especially if it was too slippery to drive it (I am in fear for my hips, NO falls allowed), and in the summer the air conditioning was kaput, so I had lots of excuses to avoid going up there.

In 2015 I had new a/c installed.  You know, I thought I hadn't gone up there all summer, but actually I visited in June, July, August, September, and October, so I wasn't as bad as I thought.  I was up there two weeks ago.

Anyway --- the insurance on that house.  Back in the beginning, when I was between houses, I explained the situation to my homeowners' insurance folks, and they were fine with it, especially since I wasn't planning to rent it out, so my policy stayed the same coverage at the same rate.  Well, it's a few years later, and I guess someone took a look at my file and wondered what's going on.  I got a letter from the local rep up there asking me to call and fill them in.  So my next trip up (two weeks ago) I stopped in their office.  I wanted to explain this (and plead my case) in person rather than on the phone.  "So, this is not your primary home?"  "No, but all my furniture and most of my books and clothing still think it is...."

She said she'd check on what they could do.  They'd probably still cover it for fire, but only the structure, not the contents.  I shrugged and said that's fine, most of the valuable stuff is out, all I'd be sad about is the dining room suit and the antique Chinese bed.  She said she'd get back to me soon.  I haven't heard from her.  I don't know what that means, but at least they do have to notify me if they cancel, and I'm not going to push it.  Until they notify me in writing, I still have the same coverage.

You know, there are a LOT of summer and weekend homes up around there. Ski lodges.  Fancy hunting cabins. Rich folks from the city.  Some major estates.  Some little cottages.  At least one house two doors down from mine (belongs to some semi-famous writer).  I wonder how their insurance is handled?

One of the things we discussed is the amount the house is insured for.  As usual, the insurance companies increase the coverage every year, with no regard to the housing market.  I think they go by inflation or something.  It can get ridiculous, because if something happens, they will pay what it will cost to rebuild or repair, which is WAY less than what they had boosted you to and you'd been paying premiums on.  Turns out, they had me insured for twice what I could sell the house for.  I asked if we could reduce that, because even if the house burned up or flew away, I'd still have the 1.3 acres of ridge-top land, the fantastic views, the foundation, and the well.  All I need it insured for is demolition and rebuild costs, and I'm sure that's much less than the market value of the house and land, especially when that's been inflated.  You know, she actually had to think about that..  Man, I think it's obvious.

Anyway, that's another thing that was hanging over my head and emotionally sapping.  Still waiting for the other shoe to fall.
.

5037 Country visit

Sunday, January 3, 2016

Comparison is the thief of joy.

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

I'm at the country house, arrived late last night.  I had wanted to come up last Monday, but about two hours before departure time, I got a notice from the Rhinebeck community forum that they were expecting a major ice storm, starting Monday evening and extending into Wednesday night.  According to news reports, it was pretty bad.  So I drove up last evening instead.

I didn't see any snow or any indication of anything nasty the whole drive up, until I turned into this street, and POW, there were actual snowbanks on the side of the street.  Yeah, my house is on a ridge, but it's not that high, so I never have understood why snow and ice is so much worse, as soon as you turn off route 9 onto this street. As soon as, as in before it ever starts going up.

I had not left the heat on after my last trip.  I arrived about nine PM.  The temperature outside was below freezing, and it was 40 F inside.  I was so grateful when the furnace went on with no complaints, but warming up took a very long time, because everything in the house had to be warmed, too. I finally was able to stop shivering long enough to fall asleep under a comforter and two blankets at about one am, and by then the thermostat said it was 51.  By morning it was 74, but every time the furnace decided it was satisfied, the air cooled off quickly, because walls and furniture were still absorbing heat.  When I leave tomorrow, I'll leave it set at 55.

It's been a while since I've been here, so I haven't done much of anything today.  Just soaking up the vibes of the house.  Returning south tomorrow, after a few business calls.  I am not looking forward to one of them.  I'm going to blow Piper out of the water.  I'll detail that when I have a keyboard.

5026 Up in the air

Friday, October 23, 2015

Whoa!  It's been a while since I visited here.  In the meantime, I've figured out a few of those noises in post 5021.  The microwave sounding beeps are probably people with remote keys locking and unlocking cars.  That explains the "bip bip" ones, but doesn't fully explain the "bip     bip-bip-bip     bip" ones. 

The loud crash during the night was the curtains and rod falling in the master bedroom, a closed room I seldom enter.  The curtains in that room are on a pressure rod that fits inside the frame, so I guess some temperature differential caused it to no longer hold.  I've had problems with those curtains before.  The second bedroom, where I sleep, has the same curtains on the same type of rod, but they've never fallen.  (I don't sleep in the master bedroom because that room is cold and drafty.)

I haven't been to the country house in a long time, and that's starting to gnaw at me.  The packed overnight bag has been in the trunk of the car for so long that I'll have to bring it back in and replace the light short sleeved things with heavier long sleeved stuff.  It seems like every time I plan to go, something happens to stop me.  This week I was absolutely determined to go, and then on Wednesday Ex#2 collapsed and was taken by ambulance to the ER, so Daughter ran off to south Jersey, and I had the Nugget.

Apparently he has some kind of blood infection, whatever that means.   They have him on antibiotics.  He wants to leave the hospital.  He's not entirely reasonable.

I really don't understand how that man is still alive.  I hear that he falls down all the time, but refuses to use his walker.  His diabetes is out of control.  His feet are so swollen they are like rockers, but he won't eat anything but ice cream.  He lives in an efficiency apartment attached to the big farmhouse (which he owns) where his sister, her divorced son and divorced daughter, her divorced daughter's ex-husband, and one or two of her grand children all live, and they are being driven crazy by him.  He's incontinent both ways, but refuses to wear diapers, is incapable of cleaning himself up, refuses to bathe, and refuses to have a daily health care worker in to assist.  An assisted living facility is absolutely out of the question.  He even refuses physical therapy.  And yet he declares he intends to live forever.

Daughter asked for and got a psych evaluation in the hospital so somebody else can make decisions for him, but they haven't heard the results yet.  I warned her that even the most out-of-it people can somehow pull it all together and sound perfectly reasonable for the few minutes that takes -- we went through that with Jay's father -- so we can't count on that.  But Daughter and the sister did at least get him to agree to a home care aide while the rest of the family are at work or school, so that's something.  Daughter doesn't have very high hopes for that because he gets mad and yells at anyone who tries to get him to do anything he doesn't want to do, and she's afraid they'll just quit,  but I told her that these aides are used to working with people like that and will know how to handle him.  I hope I'm right.

So, a lot of my schedule is up in the air.  Being available to Daughter is always a higher priority than the country house. 
So. 
.

5006 Meringue chewing gum

Saturday, September 12, 2015

"I shall never be ashamed of citing a bad author if the line is good."

-- Seneca --

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

Daughter found a container of meringue cookies in a local store, and shared them with me, and I shared them with Nugget.  We all love them.  They are light and dry and crunchy and melt in your mouth.  I pointed out that they are easy to make, so Nugget and I made them yesterday.

Not so easy when it's humid, I guess.

The recipe we found online said to bake them for 45 minutes at 250 degrees, then to let them sit in the oven for another hour, without opening the oven door.  They should be dry throughout by then.

Well, an hour and 45 minutes later, they were firm and dry on the outsides, but like chewing gum inside.  I heated the oven up again, turned it off, and gave them another 2 hours.  Still chewy inside. I gave up, turned the oven off, and went to bed, leaving them in the warm oven.  Seems like an old recipe I remember using a long time ago said to leave them overnight.

This morning they were no longer dry on the outside!  Soft and sticky lumps of gum!

Heated the oven up again to 180, and gave them two hours this morning at 180.  They are now almost right, so I stuck them in airtight containers.

I think it's the humidity, and my stupid oven.  It's the one installed by the builder, the cheapest GE gas oven.  When you use the oven, heat pours out of the vents located under the backsplash at the rear of the stovetop, baking and melting anything you were foolish enough to leave on top of the stove, and heating the kitchen in the summer.  I don't know if all gas ovens work this way, or just cheap ones.  Anyway, I suspect when you turn the active heat off, cool moist room air enters easily and quickly, defeating the drying part of the recipe.

I hate that stove, but it's not worth replacing it because I don't really use the oven part, except for the occasional cookies with Nugget, or chicken thighs.  For myself, my meager meals come out of the microwave or off the stovetop.  I've never even used the broiler (which news horrified Daughter).

I loved the stove at the country house.  It's a top-of-the-line fancy pro brand I can't remember right now, electric, self-cleaning, with burners you can swap out for a griddle, and a grill, and some other stuff I didn't even know how to use (but Jay did) for fish and other special uses.  That stove is now at least 30 years old, one burner no longer works, and some of the small knobs for things like clock and timer setting etc. disappeared (stolen by cats, I think), but I still like it.  The only thing I didn't like is that it's stainless steel, and I hate stainless steel.  It stains, discolors, scratches, and is impossible to keep clean.  The "stainless" part is pure advertising hype.  Give me porcelain every time.
.

4097 Choices

Friday, August 28, 2015

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

-- Plato --

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

I'm at the country house, drove up yesterday evening.  I watched TV last night and went to bed after the 11 o'clock news.  I had forgotten how quiet it is here, and how comfortable the bed is.  It was noon before I awoke.

I had also forgotten how much I love this house.

This week is the Dutchess County Fair.  It's been years since I've been to the fair, so I'm very tempted to say fooey on working here and just go to the fair.

I also love this area.

I hate the choices one is forced to make when one gets old.
.

4091 Rambles

Monday, August 17, 2015

“If women are expected to do the same work as men,
we must teach them the same things.”

-- Plato --

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

I mentioned that I have been unable to go north to the country house for various reasons.  I realized the other day that there's another reason I have resisted getting in the car and just going.  My last two trips were both emotionally, physically, and financially draining.  I just can't face doing that again.

I'm actually afraid to go north again.

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

I find Bernie Sanders very interesting.  I like all his positions and observations.  But I doubt that he's electable.  He's a socialist, and to the average idiot 'Mericun voter socialism is a dirty word, even though they have no idea what it means and they aren't interested in finding out.  These are the same people, by the way, who seem to think that corporate fascism (the end game of capitalism) is just fine.

And even if by some miracle he was actually elected, he'd have even more opposition from Congress than Obama did on anything seen as even remotely "socialist"  even if it happened to be a "friendly" Congress, so he couldn't make any difference anyway.  

An exercise in futility.

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

People sure do love fireworks around here.  Every local fair, several a year, ends with an hour of house-rocking booms and huge colorful chrysanthemums, often six or eight in the sky at once for the whole damn hour, even long before the finale.  I see them through the trees, and every time I find myself wondering how many people could have been housed or fed on what it cost to burn all that material.  And I see my $8K in real estate taxes going up in smoke, even as my car falls into axle-breaking potholes.

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

I haven't had a retirement raise in 15 years.  I don't understand.  I understood at the time I retired that I would be getting periodic COLAs.

I have this idealized version of how it should work.  In very simplified terms, let's say that at the time I retired there was $100 in the total employees retirement fund (you can think of that like 100 million or whatever, I'm just using $100 as an example), and let's say that I had contributed $5 to the fund before my retirement.  So my principle in the fund was $5, or 5% of the fund.  It seems like I should be entitled to 5% of the profits earned by the investment of that fund.

As more employees contribute and retire, the total fund balance goes up and my percentage share in the principle and profits in the fund goes down, but the total profit in the fund goes up, so the actual dollar value of my share of the profits should go up - especially when over time other contributors die off and their principle stays in but their profit share no longer goes out.

Carefully invested, the retirement fund should be earning at LEAST an average of 7% per year, even with the 2008 panic averaged in.  Properly invested, it should be earning more.  A lot more!  My IRAs and 401K without active management on my part earned 30%+ last year.

So, even though my idealization isn't the way it works, why haven't I seen a raise in 15 years?  Can you imagine the inflation in my costs over 15 years?   I've probably dropped in retirement income buying power by a huge amount.  A table I found online says that $100 in 2000 is $140 in 2015, at about 2.5% per year inflation.  It seems like there's something very wrong here.

The Company puts out an annual report on various employee funds.  It's both very high level and very complicated, so I don't pay much attention to it, don't attempt to figure out what's going on with it, but I think I might delve a little deeper next time.  I want to know what The Company is doing with the money they aren't giving to me.
.

4089 Overwhelmed

Wednesday, August 13, 2015

"Computers make it easier to do a lot of things,

but most of the things they make it easier to do

don't need to be done."

--Andy Rooney--

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

Poor Andy (above).  He may have been right 15 or 20 years ago, but I guess he never saw the scary video I posted on 8/7/15.

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

I haven't updated in a while because I've been, well, not so much sick as wracked.  Things are piling up.  I've been trying to get to the grocery store for weeks.  I am literally out of everything, have been living on Subway and WaWa sandwiches and salads, and what few things like cereal, milk, and eggs I can pick up at the corner quik-shop!  Which brings up another complaint -- my bank, which started out less than a mile from here, has moved to about 8 miles down the highway, and now my grocery store, across the street from where the bank used to be, is closing.  Going out of business (A&P).  The next acceptable one is a few miles down the highway, and most significantly, this being New Jersey, it's on the wrong side of the street, which adds another mile to the trip.

So Monday I gave up and placed a $300+ order with PeaPod, which was delivered yesterday, and with my back out, I still haven't finished putting all of it away.

Again, I'm late on paying the monthly bills.  I'm glad I don't foresee having to apply for any loans, because I'm sure my credit rating is in the toilet.

The Nugget has had a heavy chest cough since 8/2, but doesn't seem to have anything else going on.  Last Friday, 8/7, I started coughing.  It's a tickle in the back of my throat (which Nugget has also described), and a heavy dry cough.  Nothing else seems to be going on.  No fever or stuffy chest feeling.  The cough is really bad in the morning and late evening.  During the day it's not so bad.  Nugget and I together sound like a seal colony.

However!  As frequently happens, the coughing has affected my back.  My lower back "went out" Monday morning.  I'm wearing an elastic belt arrangement that presses against my tailbone and at least allows me to stand and walk, but the pressure on the nerves from whatever's out of place affects my legs.  My right leg is almost numb.  And it also causes, um, bathroom urgency.

I am very unhappy that (AGAIN!) I am unable to go to the country house.  I haven't been there in a month.  Things keep happening that make it difficult to leave.  I have to schedule my trips carefully to avoid traffic (like definitely no travel on Fridays or Sundays, and so on).  Going up on Thursday morning and returning on Saturday afternoon is ideal, because then I don't miss garbage or recycle pickups.  I had planned to go tomorrow.  Not happening.

I've been shopping online, and have received several packages over the past few weeks.  I hear a thump on the porch, the doorbell  rings, I walk immediately to the front door, maybe 30 feet, open the door, and there's no one there.  Just a box or package next to the door.

I look up and down the street, and there's no truck, no delivery person.  Nothing.  It's getting eerie.

Last week WOOT! had a really good deal.  They had blackout drapes in a variety of lengths and colors for only $30ish a set.  They were described as two panels at 72" wide each panel by various standard lengths.  That would mean one set each would fit my breakfast SGDs, dining room windows, and the two front bedrooms upstairs (where the sun blasts in every morning, and the streetlight all night).  So I ordered a set for each of those four rooms.  Then, after I ordered, WOOT! noticed the description was incorrect, and the panels are each actually only 36" wide.

WOOT! promised to refund the credit card and accept return of the drapes for everyone who had ordered before the description was fixed.   So, since the middle of last week, I've been writing increasingly frustrated emails to WOOT!   Their first note said all I had to do was refuse delivery.  A later email said they would be sending prepaid return labels to everyone who needed one (that was last Thursday or Friday, I think).

On Friday, the doorbell rang, and there was the box, and no delivery guy in sight.

Note to WOOT! --- "box arrived, no opportunity to refuse delivery".
Response from WOOT! --- "simply refuse delivery".  
Note to WOOT! --- "no opportunity to refuse delivery, please send return label".  
Response from WOOT!: ---  "simply refuse delivery, or we will send a return label." 
Note to WOOT!: --- "Please send return label". 
Response from WOOT! --- "simply refuse delivery".

I don't understand.  The box has been sitting on my porch since Friday.  Am I supposed to call FedEx and have them come and get it?  Will FedEx consider that refusing delivery?  I guess I'll have to call FedEx and find out.  Is WOOT! going to send a label or not?  What's most frustrating is that the return address on the box is the fabric company, which happens to be just 14 miles from here.  I told WOOT! that I would be willing to return the box to the fabric company myself if it didn't screw up paperwork, but I got no response from WOOT! on that.  Well, I did get a response, but it said "simply refuse delivery".  I'm not kidding.  They're obviously not reading any communiques, just pushing the "refuse delivery" button.

I used to like WOOT!, but their customer service is the pits.
.

4071 Central Hudson is ripping me off

July 17, 2015

"The word 'politics' is derived from the word 'poly', meaning 'many',

and the word 'ticks', meaning 'blood sucking parasites'."

--Larry Hardiman:--

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

I had one of those incredibly frustrating phone calls today.

The electric company at the country house (Central Hudson) has me on a "budget plan", you know, one of those deals where you pay a set amount every month based on your past and projected usage.  The budget amount is refigured in July every year. 

Their bill is a mystery, not the least bit intuitive.  See if you can figure out what any of this means:
Budget installment for June .......................  $164.00
Total charges to date...................................  $632.26
Total installments billed to date..................  $1,808.97 
Total payments to date................................  -$1,647.92
Account balance.........................................  -$1,015.66
Total amount due now................................  $164.00
Late charges added after July 14, 2015

Pay particular attention to the negative numbers up there.  Those are credits to my account.  

I have used $632.26 worth of electricity since July of last year, for which they have billed me $1,808.97, I have paid $1,647.92, and I have a credit in my account of $1,015.66.   (Even those numbers I don't understand, since at the end of the budget cycle last year I had about $750 credit, which was then used to make the first few payments of this budget cycle, and I don't know how that fits into those figures up there.)

Now, they want me to pay the $164.00 for June, EVEN THOUGH I have a credit of $1,015.66.

So I called.   

Well, according to Central Hudson, I have to pay the budget amount every month because that's the way the budget system works.  No, they can't take it from the credit this cycle.  They can use it when the next cycle begins.  Oh, and by the way, I will owe a late charge for this month since it's past the payment date.

LATE CHARGE????!!!!  When I have a credit over a thousand dollars????  On which, may I point out, you are keeping, earning interest on, and not paying ME interest????!!!!  And the budget amount is ridiculous anyway.  The electric usage at that house hasn't changed significantly in at least two years, so I don't know what you based the budget amount on.  Last year I ended up with a huge credit, too, which I repeat, you did't pay me interest for.

So, later this month, when the "invitation" to go on another budget plan arrives, I will call and ask to be taken off budget.  I want to pay for my actual usage.  (Um, no, I can't go off the budget plan now, I have to wait for this cycle to end.)  Lord, save me from bureaucrats!

That "actual usage" is another sore point.

They read the meter every two months, so every other bill has a chart with bars showing usage.  A white bar indicates an estimated (not actual) reading, and a black bar shows an actual reading, and it covers a year, and includes a comparison to the previous year.  I call BS on that "actual reading" crap!    The meter reader has to go around the garage and down the side of the house to get to the meter.  There was snow there all winter, and there were NO footprints in the snow.  None.  I had asked the Hairless Hunk to check, and he said nope.  But the bill shows actual for every one of the readings.

Second point of BS, the fluctuations in readings - down in the winter, and way up in the summer, exactly as if A/C were in play.  But until two weeks ago, that house did not have A/C.  With 4 nightlights and a refrigerator which is not being opened being the only things running when I'm not there, that's simply not believable.  Even when I am there, there's one light on at a time (I don't leave lights on when I'm not using them), the furnace fan, the TV, and my notebook, minimal use of the microwave, and the refrigerator opened maybe four times a day.  Some increase is expected, but the major boost in usage between winter and summer just isn't believable.  I do not believe they're really reading my meter.  Not as often as they claim, anyway.

Just another reason to go off budget and start paying as I use.
And start reading the meter myself to check their numbers.
.

4062 Expensive and tiring week

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Love longs for union.

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

It's almost 9 pm, it's still fairly light outside, and the fireflies (lightning bugs) in my postage stamp front yard are going bananas.  There are none in the back yard.  There are none in any other yards up, down, or across the street.  But in my front yard they are flashing almost in unison, and there are 8 or 10 at a time.  It's crazy.  They rise from the grass and seem to all be headed across the street, but they seem to be going up into the tall trees over there.

Do all the males live in my yard, and all the females live in the trees across the street?

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

I've had a very tiring and expensive week.

On Monday I drove up to the country house to meet the furnace man for the annual service.  Monday evening I drove home again.  That's almost six hours in the car.

Tuesday evening I drove up again to meet the a/c installers Wednesday morning at 8 am.  I left home very late, and would have got to the country house at about 1 am.  That was ok, no big deal.  Well, would have been ok if I hadn't hit an enormous pothole on the NY state Thruway, on the edge of the road just before the New Paltz exit, at just after midnight.  I didn't see it.  It was very dark, there were no other cars in sight, and it had been pouring rain, so the hole was full of water, so even if I saw anything at all I wouldn't have identified it as a big hole.  But suddenly the car dropped about 8 inches, there was a bang, and then the car jumped into the air a good 18 inches and was thrown halfway into the left lane and fishtailing.  Suddenly it was very difficult to steer.

You don't expect a hole like that on the Thruway, when you're traveling at (an undisclosed) rate of speed.

I pulled off onto the exit onto route 299, turned right (it was very difficult to turn left), and pulled into the first motel I came to, which was close and luckily on the right.  The right front tire was completely flat.  They're "drive flat" tires, but there's a limit as to how flat they can be driven on before you destroy the rim, and this was past that.

I got a room and tried to figure out what to do next.  What am I going to do about the a/c guys?  I'm going to have to rent a car, and get my car towed to my tire place, there's not a whole lot I can do at past midnight.  No way I'm going to get to the house before like 11 am at the earliest, even assuming I can get a rental car just by snapping my fingers, since the rental car places won't be open until 9:30.

I fired off an email to the owner of the a/c company, copying his secretary, explaining the situation and asking him to call me on my cell as soon as he got the message.  Then I researched rental car companies (luckily I had my notepad and my handi-dandi little WiFi box).  I know from experience there was only one company in the area that will pick me up, and they had offices only in Newburgh, Poughkeepsie, and Kingston.  I wanted Kingston, because that's closest to the country house and to where I wanted to take the car to be worked on, and that's 35 minutes away, so if they came and got me, it would still be after 11 before I could get to the house.

On the way I had stopped and bought about $30 worth of salads for Wednesday's and Thursday's meals, so I put them in the motel room refrigerator.

I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn't sleep, trying to figure out what to do.  I hoped I hadn't done any mechanical damage to Hal's front end.  (Yeah, it was the BMW, and this was the seventh blown tire in three years, the second in seven weeks.)  I finally fell asleep at about 3:45 am, and then was awakened by the a/c man's phone call at 7 am.  The motel alarm clock hadn't gone off.  (By the way, why are motel alarm clocks so freakin' hard to figure out how to set?  You'd think they'd get the simplest ones, but no, they are puzzles!)

He said no problem.  They'd take their time loading the trucks, and they could install the outside unit before I got there, AND he'd send his wife to pick me up.  She would have me at the rental car place at 9:30, when they opened.

Yay.  I opened the refrigerator to get me some breakfast, and found everything frozen solid.  Frozen boiled eggs are hard to eat.  Frozen yogurt isn't any good when it's like a rock and you don't have any spoons anyway.  And you flat out can't freeze salads. I guess you can eat them, but it's not very appetizing.  I had effectively no food.

I tried to reserve a car online, but it wouldn't allow me to reserve a car 2 hours hence.  I'd have to just show up and hope.

Pat, the wife, drove down from Kingston, picked me up and we went to Kingston, and luckily the rental folks did have a car I could have, so then I rushed to the house and let the a/c guys in.  Then I drove to Rhinebeck to my tire guys to make sure they could take me today (and that's one reason I always go to these guys, they always fit me in) and got a recommendation for a tow company.  Called the tow company and arranged to meet the tow truck back at the motel - 45 minutes back down the Thruway.  Followed him back to Rhinebeck, and then waited at the tire place while they checked the tire and the front end.  No mechanical damage.  Yay!  But I had hit the hole so hard that the pressure sensor had been blown to smithereens, so that had to be replaced.  However, even though you could buy one of those sensors at any auto supply store for like $15-20, the BMW will take only a BMW sensor, and they cost a ridiculous bajillion dollars.  Sigh.  Oh, yeah, the tire is completely shredded on the inner side, so that has to be replaced.  They need to order the tire, so it'll be tomorrow morning.

Back to the house.  It was just noon, and I am dead tired and starving.  I went out and bought more food.

By 4 pm the a/c system was fully installed, and up and running.  The guys left.  I left the a/c on, mainly to reduce the humidity in the house so I'd be more comfortable sleeping, but then it got cooler outside and I was busy sorting stuff from the file cabinets and didn't notice it was getting really cold in the house, so I turned the a/c off.  After a while I realized I was freezing, so about 10 pm I flipped the system to heat.

Nada.  It was blowing air all right, but the air was cold.  No heat.  It was in the low 60s outside.  And inside.

They had installed the a/c coils above the furnace unit and were using the furnace fan.  They'd been dinking around with the wiring in the furnace.  I don't know what went wrong, but I had no heat.  I piled blankets on, but my poor forehead and nose froze all night.

Oh, the irony.  I hadn't been able to work in the house because it got too hot.  So I fixed that, and now I freeze.

They were coming back the next morning to remove the old dead heat pump, so when they arrived at about 9 am I told them about the heat.  It turned out the oil line needed to be bled, so they did that, and I had heat.  The tire guys called, and I went to Rhinebeck, and paid the bill.  A pleasant surprise - they felt so sorry for me that they charged me only $25 for the bazillion dollar sensor.  I retrieved my keys, then drove to Kingston and returned the rental car.  The rental car place had an intern drive me back to Rhinebeck, and I drove back to the house. 

The a/c guys finished removing the heat pump at 2 pm, and at 3 pm I started the drive back to the city house.  Heading down the NY Thruway, and the Garden State Parkway, Thursday evening, when hordes of people will have Friday off, and will be heading to the Jersey shore for the holiday.  Oh, joy.

As expected, the GSP was dense and nerve-wracking, but not quite a parking lot.  The usual 2.5 hour drive took me only 3.5 hours.  The Nugget saw me pull into the driveway and asked if she could come over and visit Gramma, and of course I said yes.  Daughter was grilling chicken, so she fed me.  I was so tired I couldn't unload the car.  In fact, my notepad and travel bag are still out there.  Which is just as well, since I really should check them for bedbugs before bringing them into the house.  It really was a crappy motel.  New Paltz is a college town. 

I went to bed at 10 and slept past noon yesterday.  I'm still tired.

The damage:
$  87.99  One night, crappy motel
$  30.00  Destroyed food
$107.32  One day plus 3 hours rental car
$170.00  Flatbed tow from New Paltz to Rhinebeck
$250.00  New tire and sensor (even with the sensor break, this seems awfully low)
-----------
$645.31

Not including, of course the usual $100 or so in gas and tolls each trip usually takes, plus multiple bridge and Thruway tolls going back and forth getting the cars towed and etc.

Sigh.

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

I should have reported the pothole to the Thruway authority before it kills someone.
I didn't.
I do have AAA, and I suppose I could have called them for (some part of) the tow.
I didn't.

Why not?
Because I just wanted to get stuff done as quickly as possible with no fuss, no bother, just bam bam bam done.
Straight line to finish line.
And no, my auto insurance doesn't cover tires, so since there was no mechanical damage, nothing of this is covered.
Frankly, I don't much care.  I'm out of aspirin.
.

4057 A week's setback at the country house

Monday, June 22, 2015

" ... the use of our intelligence quite properly gives us pleasure.

In this respect the brain is like a muscle. When we think well,

we feel good. Understanding is a kind of ecstasy."

--Carl Sagan--

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I was so angry earlier today that I actually spoke the full F-word in all its glory when talking to someone on the phone.  I guarantee that was the first time in more than a decade.

I was rushing to get stuff done so that I could drive up to the country house this evening to meet the a/c installers tomorrow.  Then I checked my email.  Not the main id, the one I'd given to the a/c people to use, no, it was my secondary id.  The one I use when I'm afraid I might be inviting a torrent of spam.  The one I used way back when I was checking out a/c companies in general.

The email was from the secretary from the a/c company, informing me that my system installation is scheduled for July 1.  That's not tomorrow.  That's more than a week away.  

Why did I think it was tomorrow?  Because the owner and president of the company, the guy who came out to look at the house and assess my requirements, with whom I had been emailing back and forth, COMMITTED to tomorrow.  He had sent me the contract to sign and send back with a check, but it didn't have any dates on it.  I told him that the installation date was very important to me, and I couldn't send him a down payment  and signed contract without an installation date.  (I don't consider it a contract without a committed date, because if they couldn't do the work soon, I'd have to say no thanks and find someone else who could do it sooner.)  So, in his emailed response to me, he committed to June 23.  

I freaked.

I called the secretary and informed her that the boss had committed to tomorrow.  She (bureaucrat to the core) said that their procedure is that they don't schedule installation until the check for 1/2 the total clears, and tomorrow they've got a different job scheduled, and they can't get to me until July 1.   She just kept repeating that.  She refused to concede that I might have a valid complaint.   I informed her that :

1.  I don't see how anyone would ever agree to that, no one should send a check without a date, what if you couldn't do the work until August, am I supposed to accept that? or plead for release from the signed contract and beg for return of my check?
2.  I was told to send a check for 75% of the total, so, so much for your F**KING 50% DEPOSIT PROCEDURE!  Apparently sometimes your procedure is flexible.
3.  The owner told me tomorrow.   I have it in writing, in the email.  Yes, I am thoroughly pissed, and I want some kind of concession.
4.  I have already scheduled the furnace company for July 1 annual service.  You guys will be hooking up to the furnace ducts and fan.  Gee, I hope you can work around the furnace guy.  He has precedence because he got that date before you.

The woman needs training in customer relations.  She should have listened to my side, instead of repeating "the procedure" over and over.  She should have said she understood my problem, and said she's sorry, but there seems to have been a failure of communication on their part, and apologized for that failure.  THEN and only then, she could say that there's no way to correct it at this point, and asked if I could I possibly work with a July 1 date. 

I'm still pissed.

4052 Catching up on photos

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

"[T]he more a person deems absolute equality among all people to be

a desirable condition, the further left he or she will be on the ideological spectrum.

The more a person considers inequality to be unavoidable or even desirable,

the further to the right he or she will be.

--Roderick Stackelberg, Hitler's Germany, Routledge, 1999, pp. 4–6

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I've got a backlog of photos I want to post - because I like to keep stuff here, if for no other reason.

This is a portrait of me that Nugget drew last week.  Apparently it is usual for her age group (recently turned 4) to have the arms and legs coming directly out of the head.   Kind of makes me wonder - I know she's very aware that people have torsos (she comments on my big boobies and belly often enough!), so why do they leave it out?  Is it that arms and legs and heads are so much more important?  I thought it was interesting that she very carefully drew in the fingers and toes.

This is the dandelions in my city house front yard last month.  I dragged out the vacuum cleaner and sucked up as much of the seed heads as I could, because I knew if the mower-kid mowed that mess, dandelions would take over the entire neighborhood.  Then I spread a weed killer/fertilizer mix.  It looks a little better now.

This is one of the five daffodil beds at the country house, this past spring.  Late April, I think.  There are several varieties in there.  This is looking up from the end of the driveway toward the house, which is beyond the brow of the hill.

 This is a bit of the side yard at the country house.  Pretty, isn't it?  I hate to give it up.

Snake!  He's coming down from inside the exterior siding near the front door of the country house.   I think each of those tiles is 6" square (the photo angle makes them look rectangular, but they are square), so if you straighten him out, that makes him about 36" long!  At his thickest middle, he was an inch and a half wide.  They can get up to almost 4 feet long, but I'd never seen one before as big as this one.

I had some Lincoln Logs here for a while, waiting for the Nugget to get old enough to be interested.  We got them out the other day.  Her Daddy built the section of barn to the right.  Nugget built the section to the left.  So far, there's no evidence of a budding architect.

Nugget's nursery school has special days, like "silly hat day", "pajama day", "funny hair day", and so on.  The next four photos are from two "funny hair" days (I wonder what boys do for funny hair....).  Daughter was very creative.

(Mouth full of peaches.)

Side view.

Another funny hair day.  She had been watching Sesame Street on TV when "the pee-pee urge" hit.  I came around the corner and found this.    Usually she uses a ring that fits in the seat of the grown-up toilet, but she didn't want to miss any of the show, so she dug out her baby potty and set up shop in front of the TV.

My lava lamp.  Sometimes when it's warming up, things get interesting.

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