Thursday, February 10, 2022

It's going to be grand

 It is the eve of garbage day. My trash truck is down at the end of the road waiting for pickup. 

My life has been exciting.

I bought parsnips and prepared them. They were good. My family said they were good. They just weren't something anyone was desiring to eat again. In my mind I was loudly thinking, fried potatoes are not the only vegetable we can eat. Actually I only fry potatoes about once every two or three months. I love fried potatoes, and I have to limit myself which I don't like to do. I plan to plant parsnips in my garden. We all need a bit of variety in our diet. 

Tonight, my dog Louise just disappeared in the dark. She is a black dog. I have an area I dump scraps of food and vegetable scraps. I had dumped some boiled peanuts, sour grapes, an expired banana, long ago cooked collards, incredibly ancient carrots along with the usual coffee grounds, potato peels, egg shells and the like in the field in front of my house. I was puzzled that my spoiled dog would plunder these remains. I do have two dogs that frequently sample the lazy chick's compost scatter. One is a dachshund, the other is my older brother's elderly rottweiler mix. Neither dog goes hungry but it is the found food is so delicious dog mentality at work. 

My neighbour is paranoid that someone or a dog is going to mess with his horses. They have called the law on me for sundry offenses such as I have pulled fence posts from the ground. Luckily, law enforcement doubted my ability to do so. Even if I could, I would not waste what is left with my body and back on spite. Idiots. 

They were out there patrolling their property with their golf cart and bright lights. I have woken up in the middle of the night because they are patrolling their property line. Oh dang, where is Louise. I crank my car and drive a wee bit in the driveway. That dog will do anything for a car ride. Still no Louise, so I go into the house and decide to look in my bedroom. She is in there on my bed with a dead opossum. 

I take the sheet off my bed with the opossum wrapped up thinking I need to dump it away from my property. I put the sheet with opossum in the car seat next to me to take near the river landing area. That is about a mile from my house. As I exit my driveway, I realize that opossum is not dead. It is passed out. So I pull over as fast as I can and empty that sheet quickly on the side of the road. 

I came close to getting to know too personally a opossum in my car at 11 PM at night. 

Of course I could have butchered the opossum. I understand people used to eat roasted possum with sweet potatoes. I plan to bake sweet potatoes tomorrow. I have a feeling if I did that; no one would ever roll their eyes at me about trying something new like parsnips.

Meanwhile, Louise is unhappy. I took her prize. She looks at me with the knowledge that I just ruined everything for her. The other dogs walk around anxious like, we are thinking about having a PArtY toNiGhT. We think we know someone who has a opossum. It's going to be grand.




Young Virginia Opossum
Young Opossum by Liam Wolfe (Wikimedia Commons)


Saturday, January 29, 2022

Well it is a new year, eh?

 Every Thursday around 10 am, my garbage is picked up. With Covid, there has been a few missed or late pick-ups. Garbage day is also my deadline to write a blog post. I'm afraid, quite a few Thursdays have passed with no post written. I've read a few posts of others. What is unusual is that I haven't been reading many posts of others.. There are two blog I follow that post about six blog posts at a time. I am very impressed, very impressed.

My sister has left assisted living and is living in my home at present. It was rocky in the beginning. The last time she was giving me a hard time, I told her I would go to her house, clean it up and deliver her the next day to her own home. She has been much nicer. Having a stroke, she has had one miserable journey. My heart really goes out to her. And then I sigh and think why am I loaded down with taking care of her. In her defense, she was lashing out at me. But, a couple she felt were friends were pushing her to sell her house very cheaply to them. Betrayal hurts.

Negotiating with the assisted living was like a poker game. I knew I had to let them tell me she had to leave or I would have had to pay for January. The irony was the woman who was the manager had a hard time telling me. My sister was asked to leave because her doctor quit her and they did not have facility doctor on staff. Essentially, my sister was eating candy and sending her sugar levels up. The doctor quit her as a consequence. I was very surprised to find out I could not get an appointment with anyone until the end of February. To say I felt ganged up on is an understatement.

I have felt a great deal of disgust with the doctor. He could have agreed to treat my sister until we got her to another doctor. Adding insult to injury, he is my doctor. I can rattle my sabers louder. But why. I am torn. I think about quitting him. This is also my mother and brother's doctor. I broke the family doctor rule which is use different doctors. He has been very helpful with my mother. In short, this is about the head nurse and my sister at loggerheads over a piece of cake. A mess in which I really had no input. Well I did, I told the nurse to let my sister have a piece of cake which in turn angered the nurse. 

And the dominos being what they are, who knows? I understand Doctors will quit you easily if you aren't compliant with your diet as a diabetic. Being compliant, I did not know this. Knowing other diabetics, I could hardly believe it. One friend of mine tells me I am unrealistic about being diabetic. She has a Milky Way candy bar every night. I try to not eat any sweets.


The assisted living is returning my sister's deposit back. They were also nice about the situation. I'm afraid I had a bit of paranoia and felt like a nobody for about a week. I had three days to get her moved
out. Getting my sister moved out was exhausting but emotionally, it was good to be busy. I've since moved on and accepted the situation. Sometimes I feel old and alone. It certainly helps me tell the story I am writing. Just pour all that into a piece of fiction. It is certainly more sane than telling the doctor he is lucky I am a good witch. He is from the Philippines. Passive aggression poorly hidden in Southern American humor would freak him out. Besides, I don't know what to think. 

I have a cousin who is saving the day for me. She and her husband are going to help me do an estate sale for my brother. Unfortunately, they are both recovering from the Covid.  They had a mild illness which is a blessing. I've had to step into being more flexible in my opinions. I feel strongly that everyone needs to get vaccinated. But I realize we all have to make our healthcare decisions. I took the family for their boosters a little over a week ago. Covid is affecting a lot of people in this area. The husband of my cousin's daughter recently lost both parents to Covid. I doubt they were vaccinated. 

We have a lot of anti-vaxxer sentiment here. Hence my new attitude. They have to live and possibly die with their choice. From the news, it is not just the States that has a large number of people more of afraid of the vaccine than the disease. Some places in Europe sound like they have large populations of people freaking out about the vaccine.  I am truly impressed with Australia for kicking out the tennis player who was not vaccinated. We are so "nutted up" with people being gullible with phony information and paranoia. I don't think our country has the fortitude to do that.

My sister and I have been watching and sleeping through the series "Breaking Bad" on Netflix. I never had an interest in the show in that the premise just did not jell with me. But man, it is a good show. When you binge watch, you do get to the point you just wish it was a movie or mini-series. It is interesting and I love the details you have to pay attention to.  But it is taking forever to watch. One thing about some of the newer shows is the craftiness of characters. A sheer manipulation that gets a bit fabulous at times to believe. However, Breaking Bad does show the escalation of corruption and it's affects. 

I don't know if this is an American idea or not. I used to believe that all people who were bad were bad as a result of some of the frustrations and obstacles we face in life. I do believe this is true for many young people who are making bad choices. One way I do not believe this idea is that I think some people are just bad. Whether that evil is a choice or brain damage, it is just a meanness in them. What do you think?




Friday, December 24, 2021

So this is Christmas

Tonight, the sun was beneath the horizon and there was that unbelievably beautiful orange glow behind the distant trees. I looked up to see several planets in the night sky. They were roughly in a row. 


People sometimes don't understand how some of us are connected to the natural world. That beauty and permanence is something that takes the troubles of this world off my shoulders. I can't help but think how small we are in the history of mankind and the size of the universe. With or without us, it all will continue to exist.


I've never learned to totally let go of people. I read in the paper about a woman who wanted to stop staying in contact with her ex-husband since their only child was grown, married and a mother. My thoughts were I thought that was the idea of a divorce.


But the truth is, I'm one who holds on to people. My huge problem is my sister who had a stroke. Quite honestly, she was not an easy person before her stroke. There is a movie about Lucille Ball. Her daughter recommended that the writer Aaron Sorkin to take off the "kid gloves". Her mother was not an easy person.


Me, I am a bullshikser from the word go. I'm always persuading people to the point I need to just state the facts and let it go. This is my gift and my disadvantage and a portion of the problem in helping my sister. Humor is an oil and yet a greasy mess at times. 


In dealing with nursing homes and assisted living, it is important to know they have the upper hand. They have a product you have to have for your sanity and the welfare of your loved one. They know the brick walls to throw up and hassle you. And frankly, I know in time I may live in one the facilities. My dad was scared of living in a nursing home. I understand too well. My experiences will delay my going into assisted living as long as I can.


My sister hates where she lives. She is diabetic and is eating sweets which is just about the worst thing a diabetic can do. Her doctor has dropped her. I cannot get another doctor until the end of March. She has a pre-existing appointment with an endocrinologist on March 9th. The facility where my sister lives does not have an in house doctor. Nor can they have someone like my sister who does not have a doctor.


My short term solution was she could live with me. She came home for the holidays and immediately wanted to go back to her place at the Assisted Living which is a good thing. Rude is not the word for her abuse of me. So that solution is not going to happen. Well it may happen. My thoughts is she wants to do a bad business deal like sell her house for a small amount of money. Whenever she is going to do something like that, the first thing she does is get rid of me. 


I'm going to a lawyer and hopefully they can give me some good advice. I don't want to do guardianship for my sister in that she will take me and the rest of my family to hell in a handbasket. I do not want to be legally responsible for someone who will deliberately thwart and make it difficult providing her the care she needs. I know I am not the only person with a difficult, handicapped person. Sometimes I consider writing her off and not contacting her and telling the social worker and nursing home; I am out of here.


On another note, a writer I truly admire has had some horrible blows. Her husband who had dementia passed. There is the guilt of trying to take care of someone with dementia. That guilt is amazing in that taking care of someone with dementia is so very difficult. The other harsh part is she knows she is dying. I will say she appears to have a support system of friends. So my problem is not good. But I am not dying or grieving. 


The plight of refugees fleeing. They leave everything behind towards uncertainty and abuse. I can't imagine having to do that.


It's an older movie. I had tried to watch the movie several times. One day, everything slowed down and I actually paid attention. It was Brighton Beach Memoirs which was a semi-autobiographical story by Neil Simon. The film was followed by two more movies which are Biloxi Blues and Broadway Bound. I've never watched the latter movies. But Brighton Beach Memoirs really touched me. The father made me think of my own father. They had family from Europe who were escaping the conditions in Germany. Although it was the 1930s and times were tough; the dad says they will find a way to house and feed these people. 


There is something about the Christmas season that is disappointing. To be content is something I have to remind myself all the time.


I remember as a child some pretty fun Christmas days. One of my sisters was born on December 23rd. My mom remembers coming home and finding pieces of candy throughout the house for the longest time. I remember we got skates. Dad didn't want us out on the road. So we skated in circles on the pine floors of our house. Mom said the floors were really scuffed with black marks from all our skating. But somehow, my dad had cleaned all her pots and pans so shiny like they were brand new. I was six that Christmas. So all my stories are hearsay at that time. But I remember it being fun and the skates. My dad knew how to throw a Christmas.


I have purchased a standing rib roast for Christmas. Without my sister, I felt a bit sad that she would not be with us. But the folks at home are game to eat roast beef. I've never cooked a rib roast before. I understand it is not quite as good a cut as prime rib. I've been studying how to cook the meat. I live in the South. We like food done. So our roast will be cooked a might more than other folks would cook it. We don't like red or pink meat. My family are not huge meat eaters. I looked for the smallest roast they had. It is huge. We will be eating sandwiches the next day which will be a huge disappointment to all our dogs under the table.. 


We are also making a Yorkshire pudding. We don't eat much so it will be a small one. Peas and carrots will round out the meal. I'm sure the dogs will quibble over the bits of Yorkshire pudding we share. Truth be told, we will be sneaking meat to each of them. I would invite others. With Covid, I am reluctant to invite others. I am mindful when I go into my sister's assisted living that I could be ground zero for a Covid infection. Plus, I don't know that any in my household would survive. I already know several who have died of Covid. We do have the vaccinations. Next week, we are getting our boosters.


So it will be Christmas. Some good, some bad, but a roof over our heads and a fine meal to boot. I can't complain. It will be 73 degrees and sunny. I'll be working outdoors after dinner. 







Sunday, December 12, 2021

Christmas Letters

 Christmas Letters, You either love them or hate them. I only get one long missive each Christmas. The letter writer is a friend from over twenty years ago and she and her sister were like family to me. I have mostly enjoyed her letters. My mother enjoyed the letters too although she only knew them through what I have said.

But one year it was too much. It wasn't really the letter's intent. It was more my longing for things I have missed in life. 

The production workers in the Kentucky candle factory where so many died in the spate of tornadoes this past weekend made $8 an hour. I've been that worker. I remember making 70 cents an hour at the Tastee Freeze. I felt most fortunate to occasionally pull a second shift and raking in that cash. 70 cents times 8 hours extra. There was no overtime. I worked seven days a week. That job paid for my first year of college. I had the luxury of banking all of my money which I doubt many in the candle factory had. I wasn't exactly that worker in retrospect. 

Living through a tornado, woo doggie, I can't even imagine. I live in the land of tornadoes. I remember walking my dogs, the weather was pleasant between rain storms, my cell phone rang. It was the owners of the property across the road from me. They were asking about a tornado. I said, there was no tornado. I came back into my house and turned on the news. About four miles from me as the crow flies, there had been horrific damage from a tornado. The bank I used was totally demolished. Only the vault remained on it's concrete base. 

On another occasion, there was a teacher who was sheltering in her bath tub. The twister totally demolished her double wide home. It tossed her into the back yard. She sustained a broken ankle. It's obvious she did not return. It is now an empty lot in the country.

The funniest twister story was the inebriated man who was hurled from his home into his backyard unhurt and unfazed due to his drunken state. I don't imagine he found it that funny the next day. That is why I sleep in a bra. I'm prepared to come barreling out of my house come hell or high water. 

My Christmas letter is very simple. 

I am still here. Most of the people I love are still here. 

I still have hopes and dreams. 

The house is a mess. 

My dog BoDuke has arthritis like me. It's hard to keep a dynamo down. But I am insisting he use his little stairs and no longer take a flying jump to give one of the cats or dogs what for. I remind myself to stand up straight  

I've started a new flower bed.

Maybe, I will make it to Bouchercon in Minneapolis this September.

My field of Goldenrod are grayish white puffs of flowers. They are still beautiful in the sunlight.

Life is lot of luck no matter how well you plan.

I am still here.

I wish you the best this Christmas.







With love, Ann

Tuesday, November 30, 2021

Same Song Different Title

Kyle Rittenhouse and his mother makes me think of the consequences we face for our actions. Kyle Rittenhouse's lawyer gave the hope that time would allow Kyle to fade into anonymity for his shootings at a riot in Kenosha. Does he follow his lawyer's advice? Does he let political pundits use him as a cause du jour to frankly make money. Does he do some serious introspection about the deaths of two men? Does he sue CNN?

He was too young and untrained to do what he professed a desire to do at the riot. His crying on the witness stand was played all day everyday somewhere on the television. The cynic in me has seen a lot of crocodile tears. I'm one of those people who feel we need to man or woman up to what we have done. My life experience tells me there is a place for mercy with someone so young.

What changed my mind was not his lawyer. If Kyle Rittenhouse and his mother did anything right, it was hiring Mark Richards. Mark Richards changed the focus from politics to the situation and the person. The original lawyer, Lin Wood, was spending through the donations for Kyle's defense and granting interviews with the Washington Post, et al with his client Kyle Rittenhouse.

What changed my mind was reading the profiles of the people Kyle shot. Don't mistake me for one of those people who feel they were scum who deserved to be shot. That is not what I am thinking. What I did recognize is they were unstable violent men. Thousands of years of evolution has given us all that inner instinct to recognize danger in another person. Kyle saw that danger.  

I remember a psychologist who warned teachers to always respect that instinct. I only had one student in my work that evoked that response. 

I worked at an evening high school. He was one of many day school students who were trying to catch up by retaking classes they failed. My night school kids were irritated with their immaturity. The day school kids mistakenly thought they were the better kids. He sat in the front and I had a large student lab table between me and him deliberately. 

 One day, I absentmindedly broke my rule and walked over to the side of the table and that kid reared up at me. Two of my "so called bad kids" were there blocking him from me within seconds. My instincts were right. Those two kids knew it too. It was interesting how the lightbulb went on in the average day school student's heads. They began to to be quiet and polite like my night school gentlemen. 

I suspect Kyle Rittenhouse had an innocence like the day school students. Those two night school students would not be attending a riot. They understand attending a riot can lead to death and injury. Heck we have death and injury where people crowd a music venue. My beef with Rittenhouse and his mother was what fantasy world did they exit when they loaded up for the riot. I can understand why a young man could want the adventure. But momma, you gave him a lift and a "cool" rifle?

Consequence? Originally, I thought he should serve some jail time. I'm tired of everyone who has the money and inclination arming themselves to the teeth with guns and not having a clue what a responsibility and burden it is to be a responsible gun owner. I was raised with rifles and guns. They were considered dangerous tools. I had someone point a gun at me about ten years ago to intimidate me. I still have no respect for this person. 

I was raised to only show a gun as you use it. If you are wondering what I would use a gun for. It would be to be to protect a person or one of my animals from being attacked by a wild animal such as a feral hog or dog. The days are long gone where I would shoot game for dinner. My cousin still shoots a wild turkey on occasion, and they have a nice meal from the meat.

My dogs are working dogs. No one sneaks up on my house. I have a rule that we lock doors and windows at all times. If we were to have a home invader, this would give us time until law enforcement arrived. I know I would not go all Rambo and be successful. I would be scared and make mistakes. My pitbull would be behind me shaking in fear. But my chihuahua, I don't know. I can see the home invader being brought down by him. 

Rittenhouse has a lifetime consequence. I'm sure going through the court case was a hardship on the mother and son. I know it was paid for by donations and Fox news making a documentary. But there are other hardships than financial. Rittenhouse may be emboldened by winning the court case and the urging of people for him to sue CNN or President Biden. My prediction is that doing so will make him never live what he did down. He would be like David Duke with his KKK affiliation or  Zimmerman shooting Travyon Martin.

I see Kyle sort of like the young woman who was photographed hassling black students integrating a school in the 1960s. Her name and image deeply affected her life. She did her best to live it down and remain obscure. Maturity and a conscience led her to work to help black Americans live better. I certainly hope that Kyle takes his notoriety and builds a better life for himself and others. In some sense, being involved in such a notorious event makes a person almost obligated to live a life of redemption.

In humility, I think of times I was shielded from blunders of ignorance. I think about the woman who made a lame joke flying to South Africa and the public condemnation she received because social media took her serious. This is one big reason why I am hesitant to voice public opinions. The other reason is I can think of a lot of other things I would rather do than listen to someone disagreeing with me. 

Plus, I always find things I have had wrong my entire life.

For instance John Fogerty's brother was Tom Fogerty not Dan Fogelberg. I went to see John Fogerty a week or two back. What a great show. He was very close to being as good a showman as Marty Stuart. My favorite was his saxophonist, who had a Dixieland Jazz outfit on. So all these years I have been calling John Fogerty, John Fogelberg. A mistake amplified by the fact that I am a huge fan. The internet is my fact checker. And so many things for me to learn. 






 


Monday, November 15, 2021

A dog goes into a bar saying I want to find the man that shot my paw.



I listened to a zoom meeting where Catriona McPherson discussed using humor in your mystery novel. It was unusual in that she did such an organized presentation. Writing discussions can ramble all over the place. 

I'm a retired teacher. I can ignore a lot in life. But I am a stickler for detail at times. Over the years I learned how to grade almost anything. They introduced teachers at one time to rubrics to evaluate student work. For most teachers, we had been using rubrics over the years. 

One year, the grade level I worked on agreed to use a rubric to evaluate science fair projects. I was young and dumb. I took the rubric serious. One dad called me upset with the C his child received. Exasperated, he said, "But I worked so hard." Later I learned the other teacher had given all her students A's. I would like to say I was smart enough to change all my grades and be popular too. After all, a science fair is a PR event for the school where all the projects are wonderful and all the students are great. But, I didn't.

Sometimes I find myself grading inane things. And one is any presentation I watch. One thing I do know is that you can learn something from almost everyone. There are so many writers and so much to read that I have become a bit more realistic in acknowledging I can't read everyone's novel. I also have a tendency to read what my blogging friends over years write. Sometimes, it is someone I met at the few conferences I have attended. I'm a huge memoir reader.

I was really hung up on Catriona McPherson's mother's quote that "there is more to life than being happy". I got a phone call and had to walk away during the question period. But I don't know if I would have had the nerve to ask exactly what context her mother said that for. And even though McPherson did an excellent job describing why use humor in a serious story such as a mystery or suspense novel; I can't remember much of her rationale. 

More than anything, she helped me build a character in a story I have been working on. He is the King of "dad" jokes.

These were the notes I took from the presentation. I thought they had a resonance. I highlighted the books she mentioned.



why be funny

there is more to life than being happy

humor is not comfort or whimsy

dark is not more real than light

James Robertson "The testament of Gideon Mack"

To write humor, you must be able to accept people may be offended. She likes what has a bit of bite.

Taking potshots makes you a bully or weak

"My sister the serial killer"   Oyinkan Braithwaite

"Squeeze me"    Carl Hiaasen   offensive?  set in country club of an ex President where the older women are being  bumped off. . lampooning a country club of ex President will hurt no one.

google bad sex awards

punch yourself makes a safe joke

If there was a funny laugh in say a rape, it would have to be from the victim not the rapist. Terrible idea.

There are people with no sense of humor

Germans have a form of humor that is much different than that found in other European languages. (Catriona is a Scot. She doesn't know we Americans don't comprehend anyone speaking anything but English.)

do not say your characters laugh. Do not ever share your characters laugh  no funny speech tag

Be funny throughout if you use humor

How to do humor

Surprise - laughter is response to a pleasurable surprise

      search your writing for cliché and switch it out

Rule of threes

     Add two more things to get something funny

    Works with a running gag  You need to time three good hits. First needs to happen in the beginning.      The second needs to happen quickly.   The third should be a surprise later in the book.

   Three people in dialog helps boost the comedy

Mismatch between style and substance

Standard Joke set-up can be used. 

Consider point of view.  Absurdity is in the eye of the beholder.

Leave on the laugh.

Commit to detail. Detail can also hide a clue. 

Sock barrel 

"Diary of a bookseller" which is a memoir by Shaun Bythelle

What is screwball comedy? I looked up the answer. Chitty Chitty Bang Bang the movie would be a good answer.


Below is one of several paintings in a doctor's office interior. I would have liked to gone into the offices to see some better work. The frames and matting hid the artist signatures. 

My next journey in life is to take an art appreciation class. I know if I understood the rationale, I would like the work more. But it may be like all things, what is good is subjective. 








Saturday, October 30, 2021

Passwords be crazy sometimes.




 Except for my phone, I have not had internet the past three weeks. And I missed it. It is hard to believe that I am so attached to surfing the internet. But it is not just surfing, it is the programming by netflix, hulu or discovery+ which interesting enough, I rarely use. Paying bills and checking my bank balance are other big items. 

I have always found it interesting to need a password to pay a bill. I paid a large amount to keep the electricity on for my brother's house. I sort of had to hack my way into the system to keep the bill paid. I can't see having to spend the day getting service shut off and turned back on. Plus the presentation of legal papers seem like counterfeit to the person working in the window. Obviously, I am a very suspicious woman.

It has been a chore getting his house ready to sell. I now understand why people start giving items away willy nilly after a death. Truth be told, I have not been ready to let go of my brother. I took papers to be shredded and I felt like my brother was left there. I had the mental urge to go back and get him. Ridiculous I know. It did make it easier to take the next batch.

Isn't it interesting how businesses who collect debts can't divulge private information but they will tell you the X amount of money they want to be paid. When my younger sister had a stroke, I had to piece together her life for awhile. She was out of the mental business. For some bills, I waited until the second billing to make sure she had not paid it the first time. 

I will say Verizon was very kind to reactivate my sister's phone number after the bill had gone unpaid for much too long. Some things had to slide. It is difficult keeping up with someone in the hospital or rehab. A hospital rehab insisted I spend the night in a chair to make sure she didn't fall out of bed. It was a hellish three weeks for me. I would rush home, catch a few hours sleep, take care of everyone a little bit and then return.

The worst experience was the naïve clerk at my sister's insurance wanting me to pay her premium. I would call her the idiot but that was me. I paid the bill. What were they going to do? Cancel her car insurance? The car is still unused in her driveway. 

My sister was a civil service employee and the only way to get her W-2 for taxes was to access her federal account. This is why I needed her phone reactivated. The phone had a yahoo account active which I could access. I did my sister's taxes for 2015. To get her W-2 to do the taxes; I had to access her federal email account. One benefit of being a sister, I guessed her security questions with her permission. Good thing I could guess them, at that time she could not recall the answers. They sent a temporary password to her home address. 

I've heard of people who give way off answers to security questions to foil people like me. I have tried that in the past and found myself permanently locked out of an account. There was no remembering what I had put down and I am sure there is a scratch of paper that I carelessly scribbled it on in my office somewhere. I can see myself puzzled after reading it and wadding it up to toss into the trash can. 

This brings me back to passwords. My sister had borrowed money from an annuity. They would not let me make a payment. My sister says, she will pay the penalty which turned out to be quite expensive. But at least I was able to file her taxes. I printed several years worth of W-2s in case we needed them. We didn't. 

My internet was repaired on a Tuesday. And another man came and repaired the line last Monday. Apparently, lightning had damaged the phone lines on the road where I live. The first man went a mile down the road. But as the technician said, one side was not working. Hmmm.  

My DSL has a history of working well and then slowly going downhill until it does not work. On the same day that someone bombed the AT&T, by coincidence my internet began it's latest descent into not working. Then boom, lightning must have traveled down the line to disrupt my internet. 

I know I should immediately contact AT&T when it first starts. It is always a bit of a hassle. It is a shame that getting something repaired should be as easy as they collect the bill. They ask, did you check x, y or z? Then they ask, could you check them again. I do. I know I could lie but what would that really help. By some miracle someone in India may fix my internet. My truth serum would be the potential of being embarrassed by the technician doing the suggestion to fix the problem.

I've seen on twitter where people are saying quit AT&T over their support of a right wing news channel. First, I don't boycott over politics. Second, the news channel is a business decision (They's money in them strong opinions). AT&T also owns Times Warner which includes my favorite news channel, CNN. 

I did get on Facebook via my phone. I follow several "I smell Bacon" sites which really is I like the updates on car wrecks, and gossip.  Anyway this woman was blasting a "Karen" for running her off the road. I was so relieved it was not my SUV. Can you imagine going on line and finding out your car has been outed. This post erupted into a fight and the "Karen" basher stopped comments. Those comments can be a riot. My fellow "Baconites" were not sure her story was the only story. Have you ever noticed that those that can dish it out can't take it tossed back to them. Oh well, that is another blog post.

This plant has a myriad of names. I have always heard it named Mullein. It grows well on the sides of the roadway. The plant has been used to make a tea which helps the lungs. The jury is still out as to whether this is true. The plant is not indigenous to North America but it is not considered invasive. It is a naturalized plant in that it can reproduce without human help but never to the point it disrupts the ecosystem. 



It's going to be grand

 It is the eve of garbage day. My trash truck is down at the end of the road waiting for pickup.  My life has been exciting. I bought parsni...