You gotta give the people what they want

 My SIL (daughter's husband) sings in a band.  Recently he has had several requests for a Dolly song. He gives them Jolene.  Does a damn fine job of it, too!   LOL!

Mid-range Hoarder

 

1.  Glass jars - keep almost all of them, use once or twice then recycle

2.  Egg cartons - save for my sister who has chickens

3.  Citrus Peels - Never keep, toss

4.  Cardboard boxes - I have a mountain of cardboard boxes, threatening to swallow my house

5.  Old towels - use towels until they disappear in the dryer and come apart in the lint trap

6.  Bread bags - used to keep them, now toss them

7.  Old toothbrushes - hell, no. I toss them

8. Tin cans, hell no - toss.

9.  newspaper - keep some for repotting plants, toss  (need to recycle more)

10.  Rubber bands, don't use them, don't have them.

11.  Takeaway containers - wash the very sturdy ones and reuse once or twice then toss

12.  odd socks - don't really have any

13.  shower curtains - no - toss

14.  wood scraps - don't really have any

15.  plastic bottles - no , toss  (need to recycle more)

16.  candle jars - I hate candles (sensitive to smells - migraines) If I get any as gift, I toss them

17.  bubble wrap - recycle

18.  old t-shirts - see number 5 

19.  twist ties - keep some, toss some

20.  mesh produce bags - no, toss

70

 Sister 1956 turned 70 on the 9th.  Family met at a Mexican restaurant in our usual "central" town.  I don't think anybody had to drive more than an hour.  I was late as I was picking up my daughter from work (she still can't drive because of her broken ankle).  I brought the cake.  There is a cake store in our town that has been around since.....1950. I had to go look it up.  Delicious.  I had them ice it with a tie-dye theme.  I need to reach out to a sibling who took a picture of the cake.

The cake from our bakery in town is SO good I would eat it non-stop.  Well, I'd eat the icing non stop.  I refused to bring any home with me.  Daughter doesn't care for it.  Me?  I would request to be buried in the icing if I could.  Either that or a cheesecake (white chocolate raspberry) that a lady near our town makes.  She has about 20 different flavors for her cheesecakes and sells them to SO many restaurants in the area.  We are close to an Amish community and all of the restaurants (tourist attractions) carry her cakes.  A whole one is pricey but so worth it.  They are SO heavy.  One time on Facebook she posted a quick reel of her kitchen.  She had about six Kitchen-Aid mixers going all spread out on her counters.  Her husband helps her.

I stopped in at a dollar store and found a headband (crown) for her to wear.  It was close to the one shown above although hers had gold balls.  This sister does like disco balls though.  She had a big one on her patio for years.  

Brother 1957 turns 70 next year.  They are Irish twins. She was born Sept 9th 1956 and he was born Aug 13th 1957.  Not sure what to plan for him.  Still have plenty of time to plan.  

I had to miss a friend's birthday dinner tonight (I was picking up daughter at the same time as the dinner).  I gave my daughter the option of going to the dinner with me, but she wanted to get home (her work days are long and stressful).  The restaurant was about 12 minutes away.  I've been friends with this group since 1988 so we have had several get togethers.  I don't miss many.  My main excuse used to be migraines but I no longer have those.  Whew!

The Birds

 I am getting the chimney rebuilt today (or recrowned) - something like that.  I'm not very knowledgeable about chimney-related things.  We had a nest of chimney swifts and I guess the noise drove my daughter and SIL crazy.  The fireplace is in the basement so they heard it and I did not.  Until my daughter broke her ankle and I was down there more to help her out and I finally heard them.  They are noisy! And, we had one come completely down the chimney and into the basement and had a heck of a time getting that thing outside. It finally fell into a hamper with a lid and SIL carried it outside.  

When the chimney guy came about a month ago he said he just had to wait a couple of weeks and the baby birds will have left the nest and he could fix it so they would not return to building a nest there.  As we were talking I mentioned that I was planning to get a new roof sooner (or later).  

He said I needed a new crown on my chimney if I were going to do that.  So I said "Well, just put the new crown on when you come back to put the lid on (or whatever he said he was going to do).  That is scheduled for noon today.  It had to be rescheduled due to rain a few weeks ago.  Now, it looks like rain is coming in at about 3 p.m. today.  I hope it holds off so this guy can get his work done.

I will be a basket case the entire time he is up there on the roof hoping he does not fall off.  At least this time both daughter and SIL are home with me.

By the way, Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" traumatized me when I was young.  I watched it on TV probably at eight years old or so and it was terrifying!  I am not afraid of birds, we even had a cockatiel for a few years and I love to watch the baby robins progress in the shrub outside my kitchen back door. 

But I could not catch that bird in the basement.  I had a small blanket I was using and the fluttering of its wings just unnerved me.  Years ago we found two small dead birds in our basement.  We figured they must have flown down the chimney and one of our cats did away with them.  My daughter was not letting her husband or I harm this bird to return it to the outdoors.  It was a Friday evening and she could not help because of her broken ankle.  She was quite critical of our lack of skills at catching said bird.

For some unknown reason they had removed the screen that I kept in front of the fire place. They put it back after that ordeal.

Wrong-way Wilson

 Growing up the youngest of eight children, when I was able to drive many older siblings had me drive them places or use their car.  I was good at driving and I drove a lot.  I was able to get around (before GPS) when we used paper maps.

Several times when somebody was confused as to where to go, I seemed to be able to pick the correct direction and route.

Somewhere over the years I have lost that talent.  If it was a talent.

There was an episode on Gilligan's Island back in the 60's with a character called Wrong-way Wilson.    I might just inherit that nickname.  If there is a wrong way to choose, I choose it.

I only pull out the GPS as the last resort.  I always think I know how to get there or go home.  If it is somewhere I've been to hundreds of times, no problem. 

But, when I go somewhere new, I seem to believe I can get myself back home without having to use my GPS.  I don't know why, but I am always choosing the wrong road/turn/route.  This seemed to have started happening the past five to ten years or so.  Is it Covid, chemo or age?

Why you gotta be like that?

 In seventh grade a new teacher came to teach in our middle school.  This was her first year as a teacher.

She taught my favorite subject, reading.  It seems that one day that I was out sick (a Wednesday, I believe) she assigned students to their reading group. There were the turtles, the somethings (don't recall the animal she chose) and the rabbits (the fastest readers).

I had no idea what group she had assigned to me, so on Thursday I went up to ask her what group I was in.  I told her I was absent yesterday, Wednesday.  She snapped at me "I assigned the groups on Tuesday!"  Well, she had not or I would have known what group I was in.  I was mortified.

What to do, what to do?

My friend Kathy told me to join her in the group rabbits (the fastest).  It didn't occur to me that I was one of the fastest readers in the class and would definitely belong to the rabbits group.  The only thing I could think of was what group did the teacher assign me to?  I wanted to do the right thing.  I joined the rabbits and life continued.

What the hell would it have hurt that teachers to say "oh...you are in the such and such group."  Instead of "No, I assigned the groups on Tuesday, you were absent on Wednesday."

And she did not tell me what group I was in.

My 1st through 4th grade school had two classrooms for each class year.  The A and B.  Smarter students in A, less smart in B.  From 5th to 8th grade, we had four. Back in the early 70's they got away with putting the 'dumber' kids in the slower groups and we even had four classrooms  labeled A, B, C and D. 

 The A classroom held the smartest kids, B - second smartest, C - even slower students and then D - the students who received the lowest grades.  It was 8th grade (1973) when they just mixed us all up and put all the kids in various rooms to stop the discrimination.  That was the year we girls were finally allowed to wear pants to school.  Before that it was all dresses or skirts.  

Anyway...the teacher had us read out loud for a few days before she assigned us to our reading groups.  I would get SO bored when the slower kids would read that I would read ahead.  One time I came out of my concentrated reading and realized the student directly in front of me was reading.  I was next!  I had NO IDEA where we were in the story because I was reading so far ahead. I began to panic but fortunately I found my place before it was my turn to read.  I was so afraid the teacher and all my classmates would think that I was unable to read or was too slow at reading.  

A book by any other name, reads just as sweet

 I had fun with this.  I got all 25.  I had to think hard on number 13.  Now, how many have I actually read?  Oh dear.  Only 6 I think.  My Mom had several of the above list of books and I spent many a summer re-organizing them, perusing them and even one time I typed up the blurb on the back of several of her books on little index cards.  Before I did that, I taught myself how to type on an old black manual typewriter with a school class typing book.  I practiced with that and then typed over a hundred index cards worth of blurbs.  I wonder whatever happened to all those cards?  Ha, ha.  Who knows?

Of course this was back in the days that summers stretched out forever.  Not like today where you blink and an entire month has disappeared.  I don't know how that happens, but it happens to all of us.

Years of reading and re-reading all the titles to those books stuck with me.  

As for the typewriter, it used that messy black ribbon that wrapped around two spools and I got my fingers inky several times.  When you ran through the spool of ribbon you had to pop the two round ends out and switch them and type back over the other side.  The keys were those big long silver arms that flipped up when you pressed the key and struck the ribbon with force that left the imprint on the paper.

Years later I recall using a light blue smith corona portable typewriter and even longer after that an electric typewriter with the letter ball. (At work I used the daisy letter wheel).  

On sale

 I only purchase them when they are on sale.  Less than $3 a bottle.  And I get $50 worth minimum to get free shipping.  Then I give them away and I use them all year.

Fasting and drink lots of water

 It used to be that blood draws were a few minutes of torture for me.  They could never find a vein.  They said my veins "rolled" and "hid" from them.  It would go on and on.  I could tell in the first few seconds if the person drawing the blood was confident or afraid.  The ones who were afraid just could not get any blood out of me. I sat there getting stuck over and over while they tried this, then that and a lot of times brought in somebody else to do it.

Years later I have learned.  Either I read it or somebody told me - drink lots of water. This will plump up your veins and make it easier to get a draw.  I don't know why it took over 40 years for anybody to clue me in on this little trick.  I believe my family has dehydration issues.  My Mom was hospitalized for the condition in the early 70s and she was told to stop drinking hot tea.  I am always dehydrated. I started drinking water somewhere in the mid 00's.  For a blood draw, the fasting is okay, but not having coffee in the morning gives me a roaring headache.  (I never cared for coffee black, I guess you can have that).  

Once I knew to drink lots and lots of water the day before and that morning, it has pretty much been a breeze to get blood drawn.  And, I make sure (if possible) to go to the lab at the hospital where this is what they do ALL day long - draw blood.  So they are pretty good at it.

I have a doctor's appointment on Friday.  A follow-up to a new medication she started me on in May.  I have follow up appointments every six months for my regular medications and my original issue (migraines).  Each time before an appointment I needed to get my blood drawn so they could send it to the labs to be tested and get the results to the doctor before my scheduled appointment.  Back in the day this would be about a week before my appointment. They are much quicker now so I fasted last evening after six p.m. and skipped my coffee this morning and stopped in to get my blood drawn.  

They said I was not on the chart. They did have a draw with an end date of Sept 20th but they could not draw it yet for that paperwork.  Sigh.  We had to wait until after 8 o'clock when my doctor's office opened to get it straightened around.  When they finally called back, they said I was not to get blood work for this appointment.  What?  Why?  The receptionist could not tell me.  Every time, twice a year for thirty years I've been having blood work drawn before an appointment (unless it was an unplanned visit).  How is this doctor supposed to determine if the new medicine is working or not without blood results?  Is she going to take my word for it? I just received a refill and I believe it is 90 pills so I am good until my regular appointment.

This week it's the doctor. Last week it was the phone. Next week is the chimney issue. It just goes on and on. I guess the only way off the merry-go-round is death, so I'll quit bitchin' about it, now.

Irish Twins, two sets

An "Irish twin" is an informal term for siblings born less than 12 months apart, not actual twins, since they come from separate pregnancies. 

We have two sets of "Irish Twins" in our family.  Brother 1953 and sister 1954.  He was born April 13th 1953 and she March 25th 1954.   Then sister 1956 was born Sept 9th and Brother 1958 was born August 13th.

Sister 1956 turns 70 this September and I'm working on getting a family get together to celebrate.

In both sets of "Irish Twins" the older one was born big and strong and the second one was born quite small and much weaker. I would imagine our Mom did not have enough time to build up her strength for the second baby after the first one had been born.  For most of their lives the second born of the twins were smaller in stature.  I told my Mom that had she not stopped, I would have had a younger sister to boss around.  The birth pattern was boy, girl, girl - boy, girl, girl - boy, girl -- The end. 

 She laughed and laughed when I thanked her for not stopping (before me, that is).  She said she wanted to stop after the first two were born - she had her boy and a girl.   

I do not intend the label "Irish Twins" to be derogatory in any way towards any nationality. It was a phrase I had grown up with and I chose to share it here.

Here we go again

 I say it every time.  I'm not getting another dog.  I'm done. I want the freedom to not have to worry about getting back home to take care of the dog or the expense of boarding them.  But, I usually cave in and get another one. The one in the picture above (Milton) I did not choose him.  My daughter chose him for me and just brought him home and said "Here."

He struggled this morning going out to do his business.  He has staggered before but this one was worse than the other times.  I even let him off the cable so that he didn't have that hindering his attempting to get back onto the porch.  As soon as that cable was off he was fine.  I immediately grabbed him and snapped it back on.  It was not intentional.  I think he was more or less happy that he had managed to get on the porch and was saying "See Mom!  I knew I could do it!"  

It is the uncertainty of it all.  Every day, all the time I deal with him I am like "Is this it?  Is he going to collapse?  Will I have to carry him to the car?  Will he seize?"  It exhausts me, the worry.

He has seized about four times on me (us).  It happens when he eats too fast and chokes on his food and can't get air.  He begins to seize and shake, falls down, wets himself and throws up. It is quite the mess. I have a food bowl that is built to be a maze. It slows the eating down tremendously.  The last time I had given him a piece of bread with peanut butter (to wrap around his medicine) and I made the piece of bread too big.  Lesson learned.  He is on Caprofen to help him walk, get up and lay down.   I'm not sure the dosage can be increased. It seems to have stopped working.

I have five boxes of ashes from our previous dogs. Sable, Slade, Bee Bee, Cheech and Chong. It's kind of silly having all these boxes.  But, I can't stop and not get Milton's.  I couldn't do it.  

One of the best dogs I ever owned was a little terrier.  The closest I can come to describing her is the grey/silver Dandie Dinmont Terrier breed.  My brother-in-law found her running around his worksite. She had a collar and a tag. I called the county to find out the owner of the dog.  Came to find out the lady had passed away.  She is buried in my oldest sister's Pet Cemetery in her back yard.  (I'm sorry, the dog not the lady).  My sister took her in when I moved to Virginia in the mid 80's.  The poor little thing had only three legs from a Fourth of July accident where she was hit by a car. She lived two years after that accident.  She was such a devoted, lovable dog. I've never come anywhere near another one with that personality. 

My cat Moses, thinks he is a dog.  He attaches himself to a dog and when it passes, he moves on to the next one.  Right now he is lovey dovey with Milton.  What he will do when Milton passes, I don't know. He has been warming up to me.  I did some reading about cats who don't like being pet or touched much and did what the article said.  Now, the cat has to climb up onto my desk all the time and lay on my keyboard which I have to move out of the way.  He is a lot bigger than he used to be. The article(s) said to give him a pat or two and then stop.  Don't force it.  He is always (play) biting me. Sometimes he chews on my finger. (Or gums my finger rather.) There is a space between his fang and teeth so it does not hurt me. I only let him do this for a few seconds.

I'll probably stick with cats after Milton passes.

Season of the Sticks

 I touched my first computer terminal keyboard in 1980.  Prior to that I  used an electronic telephone computer system to place orders for the store I worked at.  I started working with terminals and mainframes in 1983.  Personal computers in 1988.  (Well, I did help a co-worker with an Apple computer in 1984 but I didn't touch it).

I was the family go-to person for computer issues until my nephew passed me with his super knowledge of the machines.  Actually, I was still the go-to person because my nephew didn't have the time to help anybody.  

I continued to work with mainframes, personal computers and in 1996 I added switches, routers, networking, firewalls, taps, modems and anything else they can throw at  you.

I retired in 2024 and I have a confession.  It almost seems as if the day I stopped working in the field of technology I lost my entire ability to troubleshoot technology.  Did my brain just say "Enough!  I'm done!"  I think so.  

I avoid self check-outs.  I had to use one today because the store did not have any human being ringing people up.  I ran the price under the red beam.  Nothing.  I did it again.  Nothing.  A person walked up beside me on the next machine over.  The barcode!  Idiot!  Barcode, not the marked price!  LOL!  I turned the product over and scanned the barcode.  Beep!  Okay, I did the next one.  I was only purchasing 2 items.  Then what.  I'm trying to shove a ten dollar bill into the slot that looks like a picture of paper money.  Nothing.  I shove and re-shove.  Finally I looked at the screen.  Oh, I had to choose cash.  I pushed the selection on the screen and the cash slot lit up.  It took my ten dollar bill and after a bit of grinding and chirping, threw some change back at me.  I scooped it up.  My fingers almost got smacked by the little plastic door that comes down when you remove the cash.  Sheesh!  Then I looked at the screen again.  Print receipt.  Push.  More grinding, and popping and out comes my receipt.  I grab the receipt, shove the two items into a plastic bag (which I couldn't open until I spit on my fingers to pry it open) and I went on my way.

I can't tell the people I know that now technology confuses me.  Especially my new phone.  I have worked with technology for over 40 years but I am OLD SCHOOL.  My brain is tired.  My brain says 'No more!  Stop!  I've had enough of technology!'  My body is getting tired quicker and my brain seems to blank out all the time.  The other day, I went to ask my daughter if she wanted me to get her crutches and I could not (for the life of me) remember the word crutches.  I asked "Do you want your ....er.... your...uh...sticks!?"

Nightmare over

 The phone nightmare is over but now I have the "Learning curve" as I try to master the new features of my new phone.  A la headache.

I returned to the Verizon corp office armed with prices from Amazon on the two phones I was considering purchasing.  Each phone had 3 versions.  Small, medium and large.  Well, regular, plus and ultra.  

I was hesitant to order online (recently burned by Verizon) for fear that the delivery would be delayed and backordered.  I was tired of waiting.  But, I did not want to pay in store prices.

I showed the prices to the Verizon rep.  He was young and so polite.  He was unable to match the price.  However, he used to work at Best Buy and suggested to go there and they would match the price.

I did.  I had a great nephew that worked there and was hoping he was working that day.  He was not. In fact he had moved to a Best Buy 30 minutes north.  Rats.  Anyway, before finding out my nephew no longer worked there I walked around waiting for somebody to offer to assist.  Nobody did.  I walked and walked. I looked at refrigerators. I looked at cameras. I looked at phones. I was disappointed - they only had a few phones.  I was looking at a phone and noticed the one I wanted was missing.  The little stand was there, just no phone.  There was a little yellow button-like piece.  I pushed it.  You see a button, you gotta push it - amiright?

Well, that got me some attention as it set off an alarm.  A young gentleman quickly came over and said he needed to get a key to turn it off.  He was very nice about it.  He said he was with a customer but if I just took a seat he would be with me in a few minutes.  I waited.  And waited.  I even joined in the conversation with his current customer.

Finally, it was my turn.  I explained to him a few details.  He said yes, he could match Amazon's price but they would have to order the phone.  Oh, I can't do that.  My wound was still too fresh.  I didn't want to go through it all again.  But,....but....he did have my second choice.  It was in a status of "Open box".  I asked what that meant.  He said somebody had purchased it, opened the box but returned it.  So, it wasn't "used" or "refurbished" - just open box.  Well, this was a much nicer phone and their price was very close to Verizon's price for the regular model.  I took it.  I wanted this to be over. If I did not purchase this "Ultra" model at $8 more than Verizon's "regular" model price I was not getting a phone today.  By the next day I would have been without a phone for 2 weeks.  

In speaking with the salesman (very young polite guy) I mentioned that I was in the process of switching banks.  He said that he was going to look into working at a bank.  I thought the job position of bank teller was going to be a thing of the past since ATM's came out.  He didn't think so.  Huh.  A bank teller job is better than a sales job at Best Buy.  It just didn't sound right.

Later, I had another two hours to kill before picking up my daughter from work so I went to a nearby craft store.  As I got out, I looked around at the plaza recalling how it looked 20 years ago.  The big draw to the plaza at that time was Circuit City.  Remember that store?  Micro Center is still around.  I looked up the nearest Radio Shack.  It is a couple of hours away from me.  I was surprised.  I thought they had all closed.  I used to go to Radio Shack just to browse to see what was new out there.  I have "NEVER" browsed clothing, shoe or hand bag stores.  I only like to shop for a few things.  Tech items and stationery supplies being my favorites.  My interests change over the years same as everyone else.  These days its more houseplants, flowers and gardening.  I did tech for so long, I tend to steer clear of that subject completely if I can.  This phone shopping was enough to last me the next five years.

No soup (phone) for you!

 Currently at a Verizon store there is a big poster on their window that reads:

Broken phone?  No problem.

I beg to differ.  But, of course it isn't the fact that my phone is broken.  The problem is the fact that I ordered a phone from Verizon on line and used up my upgrade.  I was not eligible for another upgrade until I canceled that order.  Sure I could buy another phone but I could not get my phone number attached to it.  I could buy a second line....no thanks.

When I ordered the phone online, it said the phone would ship in two days (48 hours).  Of course they meant business days (although they did not specify).  It did not arrive in 2 days.  I went to the Corporate office closest to me and tried to get it canceled.  There were unable to - the Verizon service center said it had shipped.  I returned two days later and said the phone still had not arrived.  This time they were able to cancel it (in 2 more days).  

I was ready to close my account.  I believe I have been a Verizon customer for over 20 years.  I was wondering where the nearest Sprint or T-Mobile stores were.  Verizon purchased Frontier (my Internet provider) and I get a discount but I don't think it is all that much and I was prepared to forego that when I dropped them.

I refrained from closing my account.  I left the store today looking for another provider.  I did not see one.  I got home and checked my e-mail later that afternoon.  Order canceled.  Okay.  I can go back and get a phone, now.  Every damn thing these days has to be so difficult.  Nothing is simple any more.  We have to make three or four trips to get a job done or three or four phone calls.  

One step forward, two steps back.  The nightmare will be over soon.  It is a hassle without a phone.  I have reached for my phone no less than five times when I wanted to take a picture.  I've written on my to do list to call so and so and such and such just to realize I could not.  My daughter is at work from 8 to 5 (when most businesses are available for phone calls) so I do not ask for her phone.   Friday it will be 2 weeks.  It isn't all Verizon's fault.  I take some of the responsibility.  They have their procedures and rules.  Still...

Dizzy from going around in circles

 So.  I suppose it is pretty much impossible to live in today's society without a cell phone.  Or, it is very, very difficult to participate in life as we know it.  I knew I would get another phone sooner or later, it was a joke that I asked "Can I survive without a cell phone?"  LOL!  Most people would say "What?  Who would want to?"   Well....

I think it is great when I am out picking something up for a family member and they don't have that color, size or flavor and I text them and say "You want me to get one in  yellow instead?" or something like that.  They answer (hopefully before I give up and leave the store).  Sure, it's great but what did we do before cell phones?  We bought what we thought they would like and they dealt with it or returned it. It isn't the end of the world if we are unable to have instant access to them.  Really, it isn't.

It is also nice to let people know if we are running late or how to get somewhere, sure the cell phone has given us endless opportunities that we did not have before but we managed.  There are also all those funny "Flour the kids?"  stories.  I recall one from my niece's phone conversation to a friend.  She was learning to drive and told her friend over the cell phone "I drove to Cambridge."  and her friend thought she said "I drove off a bridge."  

First, I looked on Amazon.  Shipping sometime in August.  Pass.  I went to the Verizon site.  I would switch providers but my Verizon (cell phone) is connected to my Frontier (Internet) and I get a combination discount.  On the Verizon site I find a phone that I want.  I'm tired of looking - at this point just send me a phone that will text, call, get on the Internet once in a blue moon and take a picture now and then.  I go through the steps to order it.  What do I want to do with this phone - upgrade my current line or add a new line?  I chose upgrade.  I've been eligible for an upgrade for years.

To complete the transaction it wants to send a text code to my cell phone or (hallelujah!) my daughter's.  I was thankful she lives right in my basement as I was able to get the sale to go through.  Sheesh!  I'm quite dizzy by now.  

The hard cast

 This is what my daughter has been wearing for two weeks or so.  She sees the doctor tomorrow for a follow up and she is hoping to get it off and get a lighter easier to maneuver cast.  

This isn't the kind of cast I've ever seen (I've not seen many).  It has a dial to adjust the tightness and a button like air pump.  I don't think my daughter had to do much adjusting.  She is mostly bothered by her toes.  She says they feel weird.

She has been stuck in the basement since the operation also.  She will be getting some fresh air tomorrow and I hope it helps her headaches.  We didn't want to make her go up and down the stairs as when this first happened she over-did it and ended up back in the ER with fracture blisters and severe swelling.  So she just stayed home and I did too.  

She starts a new job on the 27th.  I'm not sure she can put in a full day.  She will be in training.  I will take her and then go to sister 1944's house for the day.  She lives close to where my daughter will be working. I'm going to have to buckle down and get a phone so my daughter can call me if she is only going to work half a day or so the first few days.  She has been doing nothing for weeks now except roll herself to the bathroom.

A Mess

 I made a No-Bake raspberry cheesecake today.  I wanted it to look like the above image.  It did not.

I've researched and I think I have discovered what went wrong.  That recipe has been destroyed.

I'll be cleaning the shelving in my refrigerator tomorrow.  Heh, heh.

I made a mad dash to the local produce stand in town this morning before it got too hot.  I picked up some blackberries the size of mountains, yellow Rainier cherries, Mariposa plums, cucumbers, sweet peppers, tomatoes, sweet corn on the cob, and a large garlic bulb.  

The tomatoes were a variety of Heirloom.  They were horrible.  I threw most of them away.  I'll go through the rest tomorrow and taste test them to see if they are decent enough to eat.

I pulled my phone out of the rice tank today and attempted to turn it on.  Nothing doing.  I figured as much.  I'll probably go in on Monday and get a new phone.  I hate this.  Like buying a car.  What one should I get?  I will have to research between five and ten phones and read about them.  And they all cost too much.  I should just purchase one off the Internet and take it in to be set up.  Le sigh.  

After the cheese cake catastrophe, I was so disgusted (and hot working in the kitchen) I decided not to fix sloppy jo's and corn on the cob.  I fixed turkey sandwiches for my daughter and I - along with cut veggies and (very well cleaned) fruit.  Her husband had a gig tonight and he and his band always eat dinner (most of the time at the place they are playing) before they perform.

The smoke from the Canadian fires has dissipated in my area.  It was rather thick for a couple of days.  I limited the time I let the dogs outside.  I usually limit them when it is really hot anyway.  I hope Canada got some rain to help them fight the fires.  The Little Knife incident fire and the Chub fire are both currently in Minnesota but originated in Canada.

https://disasterresponse.maps.arcgis.com/home/index.html

Squeaky clean phone

 With the Cyclosporiasis parasite going around and recently reading an article that our cell phones are more contaminated than our toilet seat, I washed my phone.  In the washing machine.  I think it's clean.

No, it wasn't on purpose.  It is spending the night in the rice tank.  I know it probably won't help because you can't take phones apart like you used to.  At least I can't take it apart. But, I had nothing to lose.

It is over 6 years old anyway.  It was time for a new one.  I am just wondering if my sim card will be salvageable enough to transfer my data.  Or, does Google do that, now?  I don't keep pictures on my sim card (well, I had about a dozen of my plant progress - no biggie).  

I don't think I've ever lost a phone before.  I'm thinking....no dropping, no puddles, no toilet drops, nope.  I guess this is my first cell phone catastrophe.  Now external hard drives - that's another story.  I blame my cat Moses.  He was always getting caught in the cable and dragging the poor thing off my desk and they did not recover.  I eliminated that problem by purchasing a docking station that holds 5 hard drives (I have about 10).  I keep all my hard drives from my old computers so I can still get access to the data.  I double and triple copy everything. I am a hoarder.  I hoard many things.  This happens to be data hoarding.

A job with USPS (almost)

 Brother 1942 was in the air force and when he finished his tour, started working at the post office.  I applied for a job there in 1983 while I was between jobs.  I studied for the tests (I recall it was addresses and zip codes, etc...) and I believe I did well but I did not get called.

In 1986 I was living in VA Beach. I had a full time job and health benefits.  Things were going well.  My Mom (I think) got word to me that the Post office called and gave me a phone number to call.  They had a part time position (midnights) with no benefits for two years.   I mean the post office was a pretty good place to work (back then).  I was thinking who can wait three years to get called for a part time job with no benefits available for a couple of years?  Not me.  I remained in VA Beach about two more years until my relationship ended and I returned to Ohio and continued working in technology.

I am reading a book by Stephen Starring Grant who delivered mail in his old home town after graduating, earning a degree and working in Europe and big cities in the US.  He grew up in Appalachian Southwest Virginia.  He needed a job.  It didn't pay a lot but did offer benefits and he had a family.  Between brother 1942's stories, sister 1949's stories and this author - I'm kind of glad my opportunity with the USPS did not work out.

Just Don't!

 I ran into the manager I wrote about on May 11th at

a memorial for a good friend of mine.

My good friend had been a manager in another department and

had beat cancer stage IV in 2016 (mine was 2017 Stage 3A)

Not the same type of cancer.

Hers came back with a vengeance. I don't know if she was doing

the follow up blood work or not. She went to the doctor because

of a back ache and they found her full of the vile disease.

Her husband had passed less than six months prior and she was 

gone within 6 weeks.

I remained friends with about seven other women from that work

place and we (more or less) got together once a month since

we all worked there.

The memorial was a day of bittersweet memories.  I saw a lot of

people I had not seen in over 30 years. I had left this job in

1995 and worked in education until I retired in 2024. 

There were a few I recognized right away and a couple that I had

to apologetically ask their name.  We shared stories of the past

and had a few laughs.  It relieved the sadness of it all.  The

friend who passed was one hell of a lady.

She had 3 songs play during the memorial. I suppose she picked

them.  

The songs that my friend had play were:

"The Rose" - Bette Midler

"The Dance" - Garth Brooks

"What a Wonderful World" - Louis Armstrong

It got me to thinking about what I would want.

I looked up "popular songs played at funeral/memorials".

I decided on:

"Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" - Wizard of Oz

"Knocking on Heaven's Door" - Bob Dylan

"Cold As Ice" - Foreigner

runner ups:

"Stayin' Alive" - Bee Gees

"Another One Bites the Dust" - Queen

and I told my daughter if she played "Don't Worry, Be Happy"

by Bobby McFerrin I would come back and haunt her. 

I loathe that song!

Oh, this list of choices is written here in jest. Of course I

won't have them play at my memorial. Well...

Greed. More, more, more!

 When I began working in the schools in the mid-90's in rural Ohio, we (my organization) set up the Internet for schools in several surrounding counties.  A telephone company was called to install a 56k line and I would connect the appropriate equipment to that biscuit (the little phone jack on the wall) and the school network.

I would arrive at the school and being polite and somebody who followed the rules I would wait in the office until the telephone worker arrived, then we would go to the wiring closet and complete the connection. That was how it was supposed to work.

I was at one such location and after waiting an hour, I called my home office.  They said they would look into it and call me back.  They called me back and said the phone guy had been there and gone.  I was like "How? I've sat here all morning and I didn't see him."  If you are a visitor at a school you are to sign in at the front office.  

Come to find out, the telephone guy had snuck in the back door (schools were not yet locked down), went to the closet (also not locked back then), installed his biscuit and left.  He never bothered signing into the office.  The telephone company was not worried about breaking the rules. They were the only game in town.  Corporate American greed had seen to that.

Situations like this were not uncommon in my early years of working in this environment.  I also came to find out that the phone guy did not like other people around when they worked.  Know why?  Because they never did it right the first time.  Never!  I would go, install my equipment and nothing worked.  The phone guy had to come back.  I thought either their job must be really difficult or they hired a bunch of bozos.

Until I caught up with one.  It was a Wednesday afternoon and this was the second or third time he had to come back to make the connection.  He bragged "I've already got my 40 hours in and it's only Wednesday!  Everything from here on out is overtime!"  He almost sang it.

Sadly, later that day it hit me.  They did this on purpose.  They did it wrong so they would have to be called back out however many times so they could build up their hours and make more money in overtime.  I didn't get overtime. I was a salaried employee.  I had to drive out to the site every time only to find out the connection did not work.  Tax payers paid my mileage (through my state organization).

It was an eye opener and a depressing one.  The phone company did not hire bozos and the job itself was simple enough if you knew what you were doing.  No, they hired greedy workers.  I need more, more and more!  More money, bigger house, a new boat, a nicer car! More stuff to put into my bigger house.  

Things changed.  After Columbine, schools began locking all their doors.  56k lines turned into T1 lines and then several T1 lines and then fiber.  The big Ma Bell was broken into several smaller Bells and competition improved the installation process a bit.  Not much, though. I left in the Spring of 2024.  

Ti 22

 My daughter will have to inform Airport Security from now on that she has a titanium plate in her ankle whenever she flies now.  It was a long day.  I found out that pain killers give my daughter a migraine just like they affected me.  The nurse had her eat 4 saltine cracker squares so she could give her 2 Percocet.  My daughter slept, came home, slept a bit more and woke up with a screaming headache.  I'm pumping fluids in her and got her some chicken nuggets.  It is a tossup as to which pain she wants to deal with.  For now, since it just happened she will deal with the headache pain because the operation was just today and she has to east THAT pain.  As time goes on, she may adjust to the pain pills, I don't know.  But, she may stop taking them sooner rather than later.  

Say it ain't so

 My first memory of headaches was 10 years old. I slept in my Mom's room and at around 4:30 or 5:00 she would wake up and sit on the side of her bed. I was across the room. And I would hear it.  The first thing she did every morning.  Strike a match and light a cigarette. A few seconds later the smoke smell would hit me.  I hated it.  I had a headache almost every day.

When I was 12 my headaches changed.  Migraines.  My Dad had migraines, brother 1942, sister 1944 and sister 1949 all had them.  We called them sick headaches back then.  When I began to get headaches nobody seemed to realize they were migraines.  Even though we had a family history of them. Perhaps it was because I was so much younger, I don't know.

But almost ALL my headaches stopped after my total hysterectomy.  It was bizarre.  All the folks saying it was what I ate.  Well, I kept eating the same things I had always eaten and there were NO MORE headaches. Not only migraines but those regular stress headaches ceased also.

Le sigh.  That was late 2017.  I had a doozy today.  Is that the word and is it spelled correctly?  Yep. I looked it up.  For about five years 2018 - 2023 my life was much improved without those headaches.  I had a lot of issues at work in 2024 and I retired that year. I noticed a few more headaches than I'd been having. 

It may be allergies.  I have never had an issue with allergies but they can creep up on a person anytime.  My daughter  pointed it out to me a couple of years ago with a nagging cough that was just driving me crazy.  I began to take a pill but it must have been seasonal because it all stopped.

I noticed myself sniffling today.  For the past three days I have been sneezing a lot.  And then the headache.  It may have been the heat played a part, also.  Since the temperature has come down a bit, I thought I could get away with  not running the A/C.  Not because I want to save money or be "green" but because I freeze the kids out in the basement.  I was also spending more time in the basement with my daughter since she broke her ankle.  I came upstairs today late afternoon and it said 87 degrees.  I was sick to my stomach and my head was pounding.  I can't say it was heat related since I'd spent a few hours in the cool basement but maybe it was a delayed reaction from earlier in the day.  I turned the A/C on and then just now turned it back off (dropping into the high 60's overnight).

I am postponing going to bed because laying down makes the headache worse.  I will have to lay on my left side because that is the side with the pain.  I'll probably have one hand tucked under my head to create some sort of pressure on the throbbing.  I've taken my usual ibuprofen and I even took an allergy pill.  I did not take a migraine pill (Imitrex).  It is too late for that anyway.  They usually only work when you take the pill at the very first sign of the migraine attack.  And for an hour or two it is pure hell.  The pill makes everything hurt and sometimes it can squeeze the chest area.  It no longer does that for me but I do feel pretty bad.  After the initial two hours and if the medicine works - voila!  I am headache free!  I can't jump up and down on a pogo stick, but I can function.  I don't dance, run or bend over.  Just calmly carry on.  No sudden movements, especially the head.  

From 12 years old to 35 I had nothing but OTC headache pills.  My sister did have me try a Midrin (an older drug my older siblings took) but I didn't really like the way it made me feel.  It took the edge off but it was just weird. Then at 35 when my daughter was four years old I reached out to a doctor after seeing a commercial that spoke of new medicine for migraines.  I went through a few and the one that I seemed to do well with the most was Imitrex (sumatriptan).  Well, Maxalt (rizatriptan) was the best but I had a tiny little reaction one day to it and that stopped that.  My doctor prescribed me another one, but I still had prescriptions left of Maxalt and I am sorry to say that I continued to use that until the prescription ran out.  I never told my doctor.  

The reason I reached out when my daughter was young was because it made me angry.  When I had a migraine (which was often) I was no better than a drunk on the couch.  I couldn't move.  I couldn't stand lights, sound or smells.  I was throwing  up.  My head was pounding.  It was pretty much the same as a hangover but you did not have any fun the night before.  I hated that my daughter had to "play quietly" because Mommy was sick again.  Medicine had come a long way since 1972.

Ad for coffee

 There is a  YouTube ad for a mushroom based coffee that has a tune everybody seems to love.  It isn't a song from a band or from a recording.  It is an unknown singer and the tune was made specifically for the commercial.  You only get a minute or two of the song in the ad but it is SO mesmerizing.  I love it.

https://adtunes.com/threads/ryze-mushroom-coffee-one-small-change.110243/

Yes, let's!

 Let's blame everything on AI.  

It's the new scapegoat.  

Something goes wrong?  It was AI.

Something misunderstood?  It was AI.

Burned dinner?  It was AI.

Keeping my cool

 My daughter and husband live in my refinished basement.  Since she broke her ankle, I have been down there more than usual.  While husband is at work, I help my daughter navigate.  My daughter was to start work on the Monday after she broke her ankle on Sunday.  They are holding the job for her for 30 days.

It is so much cooler in the basement.  It might sound crazy, but I keep my A/C at 82 - 84 degree F.  If I make it any lower I will freeze them out.  They have all the registers turned off downstairs and have even taped cardboard over the larger one.  

I am okay upstairs when I sit in front of my fans.  I don't dare turn the oven on. (The dryer is in the basement, so it can run).  If I absolutely have to use the oven, I have a small second one built into my stove - I will use that one.  I just have to use certain casserole dishes that fit in there.

A/C does not just cool the air - it helps the humidity.  

Surprise, surprise - I hardly hear my young neighbor's loud car when my windows/doors are shut, the A/C and fans running.  So, he gets to live.  For now.

And now, the fireworks.  My young (other) neighbor is fifteen or so and I hope he gets out of the firecracker stage soon.  He does this when his parents are not around and when he has a friend over.  At least I think it's them.  Again, I don't mind the occasional noise on the actual 4th and maybe the 2nd and 3rd if it doesn't go on too long.  But the last Saturday in June pushed the limit for me.  I can recall one year, they must have let off firecrackers a dozen times.

Along with thousands of other folks, I am staying indoors during this heat wave. It's funny.  My daughter has two large dogs both with long, full fur.  When I let them outside (they live in the basement) they lay out in the sun.  Not so much the black one, but the gold one just stretches out like she is sunbathing.  I let her stay out a bit, but not too long.

Getting Big

 Two in the nest out of four eggs.  I believe I saw three that hatched but I think they get pushed out to make room.  Unless there is one underneath the other two.  I still won't look at the bottom of this bush the nest is in.  If they fell out, I don't want to see them.

Quick update on daughter.  New job said they would wait a month for her to recover.  Surgery is the 10th of July.  Crutches hurt under the arms (I already knew this but I've never had to use them).  Helping her yesterday I accidentally banged her broken leg three times.  I thought it was only two but she said it was three.  Today I didn't bang it at all but the darn dog jumped on it. She can move it a lot more today.

I get queasy

 I can't handle the sight of blood.  I REALLY can't handle the sight of a broken bone.  My 35 year old daughter stepped off our back porch on her way to a benefit yesterday morning and broke her ankle.  Her husband came running in to tell me and when I went out, she was fading in and out of consciousness.  I've not seen anybody do that.  Especially not my daughter.  

I got the car next to them and he and I were trying to fit her in the front passenger seat.  The car door was the major obstacle.  Halfway into the car she regained consciousness and perked right up and was able to maneuver herself in the rest of the way.

I actually just thought the reason she was so quiet and unresponsive was because she was in so much pain. We are very close to the hospital and so many people ran out to help me get a wheelchair and get her into it.  Two people who were leaving the ER, two policemen (who just happened to be there gabbing with the security guard) AND the security guard.

The security guard looked at me and said "It's just dislocated.  I've seen hundreds of these."  I sighed my relief.  Of course I was nauseas.

Once she was wheeled into a room, the attending nurse looked at it and said "Oh, it's broken alright." So much for the security guard.  I didn't even think to tell him when I left that it was indeed broken. 

Anyway, about four different females and four different men attended to her during the four hour ordeal in the ER.  One male made the temporary cast (which he had to remove), one who admitted her (she left with us after 4 hours but she was put under anesthesia so they had to make a record of admittance).  And two male doctors. I'm not even counting the orthopedic surgeon (I never saw/met him). Everybody was wonderful - no issues there.  A total of 9 workers had the insurance machine in my head going ker-ching, ker-ching, ker-ching.

After the cast maker (he talked to my daughter and her husband about X-box games, etc...) made the temporary cast (while explaining ALL the new materials that are available today) the on-call doctor said the Orthopedic doctor was coming in to re-set the ankle and he needed to remove the cast.  All that beautiful work!

They had to re-break the ankle so my daughter was put under for that.  The nurse that came to get us said she was a hoot (she was high as a kite on pain meds) and had them all laughing.  I taught her well and most of it probably comes naturally as my entire family loves humor.  It is our lifeline.

To top it all off she was to start a new job today (Monday).  She emailed the person that hired her.  She is unable to drive.  I believe I heard one doctor say they would probably operate sometime this week.  Ugh, the heat!  I really didn't want to go anywhere during our upcoming heat wave.

Oh, one more thing.  On a Sunday morning in August 2025 we ran her to the ER for a dog bite on her hand.  Her husband and I have decided we are not letting her out of the house on Sundays any longer.

So what?

 I told my cat Moses that he was getting a little hefty in his mid section and he mumbled something back at me while looking at me like this.  I didn't catch all of it, but I did hear something about stones and glass houses.  Huh.  Whatever.

 As I mentioned in yesterday's comments I am tired of rude neighbors.  I drove to Columbus and back yesterday (250 miles in the pouring rain) and I was a bit tired and grumpy by the time I arrived home. I went to bed around 10:30 and was just drifting off to sleep when somebody lit a firecracker.  I jumped awake and sat up.  Then another one.  Very loud.  I got angry.  I went to my back door.  I turned on my back porch light and back yard light.  I saw my car keys. I grabbed them and hit the panic button.  My alarm started and I turned it back off.  Huh.  No more fireworks.  

 

Loud cars

 About the time I was learning to drive a car one of my brothers just started working in a steel mill and was making pretty good money.  He purchased a white AMC Hornet (I do not recommend) and a 1971 Mach 1 Fastback Ford Mustang.  Well, I guess I don't really recommend that one, either.  The above photo is the closest I could get to what his looked like, although his was dark blue and the tires were always bald  I am not positive his had the spoiler on the back but it might have.  You think I would remember since I washed that darn car so much.

I recall driving the Hornet in the summer of '76 to work at Ponderosa steak house.  And, the mustang in the summer of '77 when I worked at the local ice cream stand.  One time I started the mustang and realized I forgot something and ran back up to my bedroom.  The bedroom window was vibrating.  It was an old house but the car was loud.

I am 66.  The neighbors to my right are in their 50s.  Neighbors to the left, high 60's.  Neighbors across from me in their 70's and 80's.  Except one little house almost directly across from me.  A sweet old lady lived there until about a year ago.  A 26 year old man purchased the house.  Why in the hell he would want to live on a street with a bunch of retired folks - well, I don't know.

He has a loud car.  A very, loud car.  When he first starts it I jump out of my skin.  Then he let's it idle and he revs the engine.  Okay.  I get it.  How can I complain when we had a loud car when I was young? Actually, I never had a loud car. I only drove one a dozen or so times.  

I talked to one neighbor. She is directly to the left of his house.  She said she doesn't mind it, and as long as he doesn't sit and rev it.  I said "But, he does!"  The other day was too much.  It hasn't been hot enough to run the A/C so I've had windows and front door open letting fresh air in.  He started the car (about 3 in the afternoon) and I swear he was idling it in my front yard.  

I finally walked out on the porch and he was sitting in front of my neighbors house (they have a 16 year old teenage son).  He and his friend were outside and this 26 year old wanted to show off.  And, he did.  He squealed the tires and revved the engine.  All the way to the end of the street and then more when he turned onto the next street.  It was so, so loud!  

It might be the way the sound travels directly to my house.  I may talk to more neighbors before I talk to him.  I can tolerate it if he would start it up and go - then when he comes home, park it in the garage and shut it down.  No, he has to rev it four or five times.  Gah!

He drives a very quiet SUV during the colder months.

Two and two

 Our nest has been two and two for a few days.  Two babies and two eggs.  I do recall there was a few days between her laying two eggs and four.  I left things alone today.  I'll check tomorrow if I can.

Reading:  American Rambler: Walking the Trail of Johnny Appleseed by Isaac Fitzgerald

Where Are the Children by Mary Higgins Clark

Dinner With King Tut by Sam Kean

Worth their weight in gold

 Growing up I just never appreciated a good tasting, fresh out of the garden, tomato.  My Mom and Dad put a garden in every  year for a long time.  I don't recall the last year we had one.  I know it was a lot of work.  I hated to hoe the weeds.  Mosquitoes ate me alive.

I just can't find a good tomato.  I go to farmer's markets and they are selling the same hard, barely pink tomatoes you can get in the grocery store.  The other day I did get a real tomato at a local farm store in the area.  But, their bacon was gray when I fried it up.  That was the second "bad" item I had purchased from that store, so I won't be going back there.  Not even for a "real" tomato.

There is a farmer's market in my town every week.  Rarely do I get a real tomato.  Most stands are run by the Amish and it isn't their produce.  They just get up early, go to a huge market miles away and bring it to our town.  The produce is not picked out of their garden that morning.  Years ago, I did come across a little produce stand.  The lady was Vietnamese or similar and she said she had just picked the tomatoes that morning.  They were delicious.  But, I can't find any of those stands any longer.  People are probably canning or freezing any tomatoes they grow.  

My Mom would can (not sure why the call it can because we used mason jars).  Towards the last  years, she only canned tomatoes and that is the only produce I know how to can.  She rarely let any of us help out in the kitchen.  I think we just got in the way and she didn't have the patience to teach us. She would get mad and preferred to do it herself.

We even have a few "honor system" produce stands here and there.  Not many, as they are getting ripped off and will stop eventually.  I stopped at one a few years back and left my money in a box where the sign said to place it.  I'm sure they got ripped off as they were near a busy highway and some degenerate certainly stopped and helped themselves to either produce or the money box or both.

The deer eat everything we grow in my neighborhood.  My neighbors have become very creative as they continue to grow produce in their back yard.  I have to sprinkle a powder (ox blood) around my flowers to keep the deer away.  After it rains, I have to reapply.  My sister planted 25 tomato plants when she first moved into her most recent house and the deer ate every one.  A few years back she and her daughter had a big garden and the groundhogs went through and took a bite out of each tomato, leaving the rest on the vine.  All that work.

I can remember one year we had SO many tomatoes that my brother, his friend and I had a tomato fight in the garden.  It was the end of the season.  The stalks were all brown and dried.  We threw them at each other.  They were rotting on the vine.  I was a teenager.  I didn't appreciate our garden fresh produce back then.  I remember  another year, my Mom made me take a big brown paper bag of vegetables and leave it on our neighbor's doorstep.  Just to get rid of some of it.

My Mom never grew lettuce, onions, peas, radish or broccoli. I think those are the early  plants?  We had plenty of cucumbers, corn, tomatoes and green beans.  I figure most young adults and children have no idea that a cucumber has prickly little bumps on it when first picked.  I can still remember how it felt to pick a cucumber and rub the dirt and prickles off of it before putting it in the basket.

We never had a fence around our garden.  It was huge compared to our neighbors. In fact most of our neighbors didn't even put in a garden (this would have been late 60s through the 70s).  I only remember one time my dad was taking a gun down to the garden to shoot a pesky rabbit and I cried and asked him not to.  If he did shoot the rascal, it wasn't when I was around.  

One year we grew pumpkins.  We never did that again.  We had pumpkins coming out of our ears. I can remember them in our house lining up and down the upstairs hallway.  They were everywhere.  I'll probably go out and about today searching for a real tomato.  Mayonnaise in the fridge ?  Well, Miracle Whip.  I grew up on Miracle Whip.  Check.  Bread in the cupboard?  Check - fresh from the grocery store bakery (not the commercial loaf).  Salt and pepper?  Check.  It probably won't happen.  But, I can dream.  I got lucky a few weeks ago but like I said - the other products in that store are questionable.

Update on bird nest

 I just checked.  We now have four eggs for this third clutch.  I hope the fourth one doesn't get pushed out of the nest like the last one did.  Or, I think he did.  After all four were born, one disappeared before the others got really big before they began to fly.  She should have added on to her house before laying that fourth egg.  I could have helped but I know her. She wouldn't ask.

No stranger things here

 I take Milton (old dog) outside to do his business.  I sweep the back porch (pine tree in neighbor's yard, I always have needles on the porch) while he is busy.  All probably less than 3 minutes.

I return to my desk and I see this.  I keep a glass of ice water on my desk at all times.  I drink from it often as I am always in the kitchen refilling it.  I know that I probably took a sip not long before taking the dog out.

I stare at the toy on my yeti cup for a minute.  I go to the basement stairs and holler down to my daughter. "Did you put the plastic toy lizard on my water?"  She walks over to the bottom of the stairs and looks up at me.  "What?"   I repeat my question.  She says "I have no idea what you're talking about."

I walk back to my desk and look at my cat sleeping in the dog's bed.  (He thinks he is a dog).  I had Milton outside with me.  Currently, nobody else in the house.

How did that toy get there?  It didn't help that I was currently reading an article about quantum physics and how it may be related to a form of after life.  (I don't know how I get down these rabbit holes. I just read something and I have to follow it up and pretty soon....I'm in way over my head.)

A few minutes later it hits me.  I had JUST wiped my monitor down with a dust rag before taking the dog outside.   The little toy must have been on the top of my monitor or somewhere that the cloth could catch it and deposit it right on the top of my cup.

I don't need any mysteries in my life.  I'll spend all day until I get to the logical reasoning for it.  If I don't figure it out, I'll lay awake at night wondering what the what.

On a lighter note.  For the past 2 days I have had to put drops in my left eye. Pataday.  I haven't used this medicine for months.  My eye hurt.  It didn't itch.  It was blurry.  But, instant relief.  It gives relief for hours.  My right eye is a bit dry (because I keep fans on me at all times, probably) but it does not ache like my left one is.  Eye appt next month.  I'll ask the doctor about it if I am still having issues.

I was always missing my eye when I put drops in.  I don't do it often enough to do better.  I have found out that NOT closing the other eye helps my aim.

Clutch number 3

 Three new eggs.  This is the third clutch.  Not sure if it is the same mama or a different one.  They all look alike.

I grabbed a  photo just after the rain, once I made sure Mama was not in there.

Polka dot plant

I have great luck with the pink polka dot plant.  I have at least six of them.  I started with one.  I like it.  It may be my favorite.  I am struggling with getting my spider/airplane plant to propagate.  I still have the rubber tree quarantined.  I got that one May 24th.  He looks good - I've not seen any issues/pests with him.  He has some new growth.

I also have about six umbrella plants started from one original plant. 

I have started with the golden ivy.  It is not taking off,  yet.  

I have my outside flowers planted.  I'll make sure I get a photo of them.  I've spread the ox blood dust around in an effort to keep the deer from eating them.

I am so happy - my peach/orange lilies are blooming this year!  I purchased them two years ago, neglected them that winter.  Green plants came up last summer, but never bloomed.  This year - beautiful!  I'll get a  photo of them, also.

Currently reading:

 still, - the Viking book.  

A biography of Zsa Zsa Gabor 

and a book about Krakatoa.  

The Viking and Krakatoa books are dry and detailed and hard to not fall asleep while reading them.

Cut back on what, now?

 I was reading an article on retirement the other day and it listed a few things retirees should cut back on.  One was eating out.  What?  It is getting expensive.  But, that is all everybody wants to do.  Let's meet for lunch, let's meet for dinner.  I really don't want to go anywhere else, either.  

So, I only drink water when I order in a restaurant.  I rarely order dessert or an appetizer.  I also have started looking at the less expensive items on the menu instead of going for the filet mignon or fancy fish.  Chicken is just as good and so is meatloaf.  I always take cash - screw that plastic card charge.

I meet a group of women I worked with back in the late 80's to mid-90's.  We average about once a month (mostly on a birthday, or holiday).  I also meet with a group of retired ladies (from most recent job mid-90's to 2024).  Once a month with them, also.

Family -  always somebody wants to meet.  About two times a month.  Then my son-in-law's band plays at wineries, bars, craft brew houses and festivals.  That is about three times a month.  I do purchase bottles of wine, but that is for gift giving later at the holidays or special occasions.

So, dining out - is between five and seven times a month.  That seems like a lot!  I've started to keep a running tab of it and will start to make some changes where I can.  I am not currently in dire straits, far from it.  But, you never know what is right around the corner.