Project Log: Crocheting

I was so excited to get my 5 big 1# cones of Peaches & Creme yarn: lots more dishcloths lurk in these crocheting fingers.

It took me a long time to select my color choices from the many offered by the company, and I was already thinking about making some other products with the new, vibrant colors coming in the mail. I bought yarns with fall/winter in mind, perhaps to use in making knit caps, scarves and warm mittens.

Today, the package finally arrived. Can you say, "Yuck"? Some of the colors aren't very pretty and don't actually look the same as the picture in the catalog. I'm going to make a sample of each color selection and see if I like them better in a washcloth than wrapped on the cone. If not, I'll find a place to donate them, let someone else deal with all that cotton yarn, and go back to buying little rolls that I pick off the shelf so I know I'm going to like the colors.

I'm sure someone else in the world is just waiting to make more washcloths ...

I did, however, make a project I kinda like from a cone of cotton yarn I bought about a week ago. It's a slouchy purse, an original design, and will go with just about any summery color. I had an idea and decided just to go for it. I wanted a bag that was roomier at the bottom than at the top, but with a secure flap and a strap that can be flung over the shoulder. I used a great pattern stitch, so it's jazzy but doesn't clash with the varigated yarn (btw, I like these colors).

I just wanted to make the bag, not carry it, so now I have to find an unsuspecting soul to gift with this project.

Whaddya Think?

This is what Phase One looks like finished; well, to be truthful, I need to buy about 4 more bags of the tiny rocks as I've finished the first layer, but have to go back and build depth.

Yep, it's exactly what I wanted it to look like--well, if all the plants grow, that is. The gophers are a real challenge, but I'll buy bait to put down their holes and use their dead bodies for deep fertilizer!

Augie was out and about at 6 am, just as the dogs and I were finishing our walk, so I asked him if he could roll the biggest rock across the street and put it in place for me, which he and his helper did. I gave him $10 for his morning coffee, so we were all happy. Believe me, there was no way I was going to be able to move the rock: the sweat equity required for this project is at the far end of my physical endurance.

I also told Augie I'm going to remove the rest of the dead grass and finish landscaping, and, oh, by the way, do you still have that Bobcat tractor? Yes, he does--and it's $55 an hour to rent. Hm, remove grass from side yard = 20 minutes + remove all the grass from the front yard = 40 minutes + add 2 scoops of dirt from across the street for the mound in the middle = maximum of $100. The mound in the middle is so the rocks will make an interesting pile and more nooks and crannies for my planting plan.

I'm also going to ask him about bringing in the larger rocks for the front yard as there are at least 2 dozen large rocks in the fields on the street, which shouldn't be a big deal. And, depending on how much all this will cost, I really, really want the huge flat rock from the field about 5 blocks away, and I'm willing to pay for it if Augie will go get it and put it in place. It'll form a natural bench so I can sit and enjoy the landscaping.

So, it seems to me that all of this piddly tractor work should stay somewhere in the $250 range, which is cheap and saves me weeks of manual labor. I still have to drive to the quarry and get the stones, one trip for the side yard and another trip for the big yard, once the rocks and planting are finished.

All in all, by the time fall arrives, I should be fully desert landscaped! Hurrah!

Phase One: Project Yard

The phase one area is down to the basics: bare earth, my big rock, and the weed plant I really like.

Tomorrow, I need to relocate 2 more large rocks from the back yard into the cleared space, plant a big weed plant by each of those rocks, then fill in the blank areas with lantana. It'll look nice, add some interest to the front yard, be colorful and require low maintenance.

I'm going to shower, then shop for the landscaping cloth and the plants. I think I have help tomorrow with moving the rocks from a man who lives up the street. I stopped to admire his front yard and he said he would help me with mine. I told him I'll pay him $10/hour, but he can only work while I'm working: no working without supervision and then claiming he's put in umpteen dozen hours so he gets paid big bucks. Been there; done that; no reruns.

The side yard is next, but it's just dig out the dead grass, put down the landscaping cloth, and cover it with crushed rocks. I'm not planting anything on that side at all.

So far, so good. By next weekend, I should have both small areas finished, and then it's time to work on the main front yard. Whoopee!

Desert Landscaping

Today is the first day of the desert landscaping project. Since a project has to start somewhere, I decided to do the smallest section, the part that I already know how I’m going to plant: in a gay profusion of colorful lantana!

I started digging before the sun came up and almost finished removing the existing grass by the time it was too hot to continue. I have about another hour before all the grass is out, and perhaps that will be done tonight after the sun moves way into the west, leaving the front of the house in shade. I’m going to buy about 7 plants, each one a different color, and just randomly plant them in the area, then cover the bare ground with wood chips (I think) to keep the dirt from blowing and to help keep the water where I want it.

Next will be the larger area to the left of the driveway, which is going to be stripped, covered with landscaping cloth, and heaped with ground gravel. No planting; no water; no maintenance.

Phase 3 will be the largest part of the yard, which I want to strip of all grass, cover with landscaping cloth, heap with some huge boulders to create a focus, and then plant with a variety of semi-indigenous desert plants in and around the huge boulders, leaving most of the yard plain. I know how I want it to look when it’s done, but I also know it’s impossible for me to do that part of the project without some help, so I’m going to find an equipment rental place and ask about a tool that will take out all that grass without my having to dig it out by hand.

Then, I’m going to have to find a person to bring the rocks, most of which are already in the empty lots on my block, but there is one special rock a couple of streets over that I really want as it’s a bench! Yep, a natural bench, and it’ll look great, so I have to find a person who can bring it to me.

The other part of this that I cannot do is the watering system because there has to be water, but there are so many buried pipes already that I have no idea which ones are connected, which ones go where, etc. I’m going to ask a friend to untangle that part because I think what is already there can be disconnected, and just the pipes I need for the two areas that will have plantings can be installed. It won’t hurt to leave a lot of plastic pipe underneath it all!

Once the landscaping is finished, the fence people will come install the fencing; it was their suggestion to complete the changes to the yard before fencing, which makes sense, but does delay enclosing the property to keep out the visiting neighbors and pets.

So, confident as I am about most of the projects in my life, let’s see how far I get on this one before either collapsing or causing myself bodily injury.

I Don't Believe This!

For 4 months, I've been trying to combine my 3 phone services into one. Thought I'd accomplished that goal twice now, but ...

As of today, I have another bill from Verizon: my $69.99 advertised monthly service is currently $106.02 because (ta-da) I don't have the bundled services. Yeah, I know: I thought I canceled Verizon June 29, 2007 because the plan they offered cost me $130.80 the first month, a far cry from $69.99. Ah, but there is no record of a switch to AT&T, and no record of any change in my service plan; hence, the bill. I'm paying $67.23 for phone service and an additional $38.79 for DSL, with all the taxes, etc., added into the base rate.

The $69.99 is supposed to include both phone service and DSL, but the last dozen or so employees I conversed with have all made errors (it's like a chain), which is why I'm still paying separately for DSL on a monthly plan. I cannot just have Verizon DSL without a "dry loop," whatever that is ... and that's tricky, which is the opposite of what the last person, Pat, said, so why not continue with the services I already have?

Instant pissed off. Again.

However, 37:38 minutes with Lydia and I'm once again going into the double bundle discount, which is phone and DSL, for $69.99 a month (base price), which is what I was after when I started this debaucle last April. However, those prices may not show up on my bill for 2-3 months, so I could continue to have $100 monthly phone bills until the changes take place.

Am I supposed to believe that is true? We're talking electronic recordkeeping and billing, which means she inputs it and it exists. There is no endless line of under-paid secretaries who are going to manually write the change orders, pass them on to the next level, etc., until "someone" finally gets the memo and changes the service! It's in the computer: change the damned service!

Okay, that's off my chest. Now on to AT&T.

After the hour spent on June 29 with a series of non-English-speaking, off-shore employees who all pretend they are fluent Americans, Davis promised me that my service was changed to the AT&T basic plan, at $23.95 per month, and I was happy. However, today Kevin confirmed that order was never put into the computer, and, actually, was canceled June 29, 2007! I currently have NO AT&T service at all, which is fine with me as long as there also is no bill coming in the mail!

I'm still trying to do the right thing for my monthly budget and consolidate these services. Guess I won't know the outcome for a while, which is why I never change anything!

Running Amok!

Retirement is expensive; when one is at work, there are few, if any, opportunities to go shopping, so it costs less to work than it costs to be retired. However, I have found myself running amok the past couple of weeks, spending recklessly to indulge my addictive habits.

The K-Mart is at the corner, and, although it doesn't have top quality merchandise, it does have a nice selection of books. I am a reader. I buy books, but have put a spending limit of $25 on my purchases, which isn't that many books these days. Of course I could go to the library, but my small community has an equally small library, the sum of which would probably fit into my house. I also like to copy edit as I read, so if you ever pick up a used book and the printing errors are indicated, it may be a book that passed through my hands--or an equally anal individual.

It's a straight shot to the Wal-Mart, 7 miles one way, where I can indulge my other passion: W-M stocks yarn and craft supplies. I'm still not sure about my compulsion to make wash cloths, dollar purses, and little belt purses for cell phone, ready cash and gift cards, but that's what I'm enjoying, so that's what I'm doing. The little balls of cotton yarn are $1.27 each, so for $10, I can just keep myself out of mischief. I have a rule: don't buy another ball until all the little balls in the basket are used up somehow, so I've been using up all the little left-overs to make colorful whatever strikes my fancy. I'll find a place to donate the lot one of these days.

Now, the good news: I've found another place to spend my retirement income, this source on-line. The little balls of all cotton are called "Peaches and Creme," and they come from Elmore-Pisgah Incorporated, which has a website and a veritable rainbow of solids and mixed colors, both in little balls (4-pack purchase) and on cones (a good deal). I ordered 5 cones in exotic color mixtures, such as Mountain Shadow, Sea Breeze, and Country Garden, colors that W-M doesn't know exist. I will now limit myself to using up the cones before indulging in any more little balls!

I have a pattern for a tote bag using the cotton yarn, and I'm going to give that a whirl. It's pretty simple to make, basically a huge rectangle with a gusset, outside pockets and handles, and it'll probably use up the cones of yarn as it's a larger project. One can never have too many totes, unless one is retired and spends time making totes.

My mom used the term "idiot's delight" to describe certain activities, such as making wash cloths, little dollar purses, and crocheted totes, I suppose.

Princess/Mia

Ironically, I was 'watching' the Princess movie about Amelia, called Mia, whose father died, so she has to inherit the throne of Genovia, except no one knows that she's really a princess ... oh, you know the movie! Today, I have my own Princess/Mia in the house.

My friend's house flooded, and while it's difficult for humans to deal with everything associated with the disaster, it's compounded when you have a dog. People can move into a hotel and keep their lives together, but dogs get stuck going to a kennel and spending most of their day/night in a pen. Princess is a wonderful little bundle of energy who was sprung from the kennel at noon and is going to stay with Mia for a week or two--until her owner's home is once again inhabitable.

She's great; however, Mia's nose is a bit out of joint as Princess is affectionate and wants to be petted, hugged and play ball, all of which Mia feels are her right as my dog, and she's not sharing. As the picture shows, Princess is showering Mia with kisses, but it's not really Mia's thing, so she's just putting up with it at this point.

They've gone in and out the doggy door roughly one thousand times already, but I'm sure the novelty will wear off before midnight? They've chased the tennis balls up and down the hallway until Mia collapsed on her cushion and refused to move for an hour. They've shared the water bowl, with Princess thinking it's a lap pool and jumping into it, of course at the same time Mia was trying to get a drink.

Mia showed Princess the toy tote, a small wheeled crate with doggy toys, and Princess enjoyed pulling every single thing out of it, then pushed the cart around the tile floor. Nope, she doesn't know how to pick up after herself, so that's my job, I guess. She did try to interest Mia in sharing a pull-toy, but Mia nixed that idea.

I fed Princess her moist, canned dinner, while I locked Mia outside: she's condemned to a dishpan filled with her dry kibble, which she eats when she's hungry--or not. If she doesn't like the kibble this month, she'll swat at it until it's all over the kitchen floor to show her displeasure.

They've each had a treat, dropped them to scope out what the other had, then switched the ones I'd given them before gobbling them up.

Mia has retreated to her private place, the knee well in my desk, and Princess will NOT invade that space without a fight! Princess is currently curled up on the rug in the doorway to the office, perhaps already realizing that she's not welcome (yet) to actually come into the office.

The good news is that they are getting along well, so this is going to work out for all of us. The bad news is that this whirlwind of activity is exhausting! and it's only been 6 hours, so far. I'm sure we'll all find our rhythm by mid-week and settle down into a boring routine, but I'm ready for bed.

Someone Thinks Knowing About Me Would Be ... Their Business?

What's it called when someone sends you the to-do list you're supposed to respond to and send on? Whatever it is, here it is:

What’s in my wallet?
1. cash
2. credit/debit cards (1 of each)
3. medical cards, insurance cards, membership cards
4. gift cards to theaters, restaurants, Starbucks
5. telephone numbers for both my daughter and my son

What’s in my ‘fridge?
1. yogurt: always
2. cheese and low carb tortillas: always
3. cold water/beverage, but probably not milk
4. fresh fruit, veggies: sometimes
5. meat: I’m a carnivore

What’s in my closet?
1. jeans
2. t-shirts, both plain & printed
3. Birks & tennies: several pairs as these are comfy foot coverings
4. dresses I refuse to wear if I can avoid doing so
5. huge bundle of toilet paper that has no place else to be stored

What’s in my car?
1. extra jacket, with hood attached
2. water: always
3. a cooler for the purchases at Sam’s Club
4. directions to wherever I’m heading
5. parking passes

What’s on my desk? Quick Answer: A total mess
1. keyboard, mouse, screen, PalmPilot
2. stamps
3. holds-all, lazy susan-style storage cube (needs cleaning)
4. bills to pay
5. lots and lots and lots of pens (and I throw away pens when they quit writing)

Foodie

Unfortunately, I have many bad food habits. The worst habit, chocolate, has been taken care of in the form of total abstinence. I've read that all it takes to change a habit is 21 days, but that's bull roar: I haven't had chocolate in about 10 months, and I still want it every single hour of every single day. I just don't eat it.

My other bad eating habit is gorging on single foods. I find something that tastes good and I eat way beyond it tastes good or I'm still hungry. Yesterday, it was fresh asparagus. I went to Sam's Club and bought the big bundle, about 2 pounds of fresh asparagus, to cook up and eat for several days. My cooking method is to clean the veggie, then put it on a silpat, drizzle with EVOO, sprinkle with coarse sea salt, and bake at 350 for about 20 minutes, depending on how much asparagus I'm preparing.

Yum-Oh!

I sampled a piece hot out of the oven, then another piece, then sat and ate all of it during the next hour! Now, I not only don't have my fresh veggie for the rest of the weekend, but I don't care if I never see another stalk of asparagus, and it's one of my favorite veggies.

I also bought the huge bag of broccoli flowerets, but I separated them into little freezer baggies and only cook one portion at a time, which is what I should have done with the asparagus.

There is an artichoke awaiting prep, but it's easy not to binge on a veggie that is currently selling for $3.99 each.

It could be worse: I could still be bingeing on Hershey's almond kisses, so I guess stuffing myself to overdose on asparagus isn't all that bad--and I can always go back to Sam's and buy more if I ever develop an asparagus craving again in this lifetime.

Foul Ball

Nice telephone contact from the hospital: it has, after all, been 24 hours since I was released. How ya doing? Everything okay? Anything we can do for you? No?

Well ... then,

It seems that I slipped through the cracks and someone failed to get my down payment before services were rendered to the tune of $32k toted up in my name between 11:30 am Monday and 10:00 am Wednesday. At the very least, I should have stopped by the admitting office and paid before I left the hospital grounds, but, again, so sorry, someone didn't do their job.

Um, is this the admitting person who came to the ER to fill in all the paperwork or the admitting person who came to my room to fill in even more paperwork Tuesday who failed to do their job? I was pretty much a captive audience, so they had all the time in the world to tell me I owed them money before I left the hospital.

But no worry because I don't have to pay the full one thousand dollars I owe on the $32k bill until I actually get the bill, I just need to put a down payment on what I owe toward the total by the end of the work day tomorrow. How much? Well, usually half of the total amount the patient owes is expected.

I can pay in person or use a debit card over the phone, if that's more convenient. No, it really cannot wait until I'm sent the bill because the hospital requires that a payment be made at the time services are rendered, and since that wasn't done, they need to rectify their error ASAP.

Since learning the lesson well re: your procedure is scheduled for any time between 10 am and 1 pm and you'll be released to go home this evening, and being taken down to the cath lab at 5:30 pm and having to stay an extra 12 hours, it seems to me that I actually can take my own sweet time before I drop by and take care of this matter.

I wonder if I get to deduct for the meals I never got to eat?

Not One of My Favorite Things

A nurse walks into a bank totally exhausted after a 20 hour shift. Preparing to write a check, she pulls a rectal thermometer out of her purse and tries to write with it. Upon realizing that her pen isn’t working, she looks at the flabbergasted teller and without missing a beat says, "Well, that's great…that's really great. Some asshole's got my pen."

(A nursing joke)

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When Julie Andrews sings about a few of her favorite things, you’ll notice that being in the hospital is not on the list! It’s never been on my list either, but Monday, on my way to the doctor’s office to request a quick check-up on some weird chest pains I was having, I turned left into the emergency room and just got back out today. Seems that when an older woman shows up with chest pains, she isn’t leaving until it’s been firmly established that she hasn’t had a heart attack.

Since last Friday, I’ve been dealing with unusual chest symptoms: clenching/releasing heart action, including throwing off a little extra blip, accompanied by severe crushing chest pains that radiated across my back, all of which were announced with a sudden rush of Niagara Falls sweats. Pretty much said to everyone in the medical profession “heart,” but guess it’s not, which is good to know. I especially like knowing that the little pieces of plaque merrily blocking the arteries in the TV ads have not taken up residence in my body. I also don’t have high blood pressure. Of course, I don’t know what caused my episodes, but we take it one step at a time in the medical profession by ruling out something that could kill the patient first, and then not worrying about whatever else could be causing the same symptoms because someone else will—eventually—figure that out.

According to both my doctor and the cardiologist, the symptoms could be gall bladder, so that’s the next organ to be examined, but it will be done as an out-patient, require tons of time and more tests, and then may turn out to be … nothing, after all is said and done.

I did learn through practical experience that waiting for tests is a euphemism for patient patience training; if you are told the tests/procedure/medication will be in an hour, you may assume it is a hospital hour, which is defined as an unspecified amount of time occurring on any given day. Unfortunately, the majority of non-hospital personnel, such as patients, believe an hour means a specific period of time comprising 60 minutes. In the hospital, “in an hour” means it happens when it happens, and if it’s not during this shift, it may occur during the next shift, but it may also happen tomorrow sometime. It just depends.

I did learn that hospital personnel can come and go 24/7, taking blood pressure, measuring oxygen saturation, drawing blood, replacing the IV drip, and I can sleep right through it. When I woke up yesterday morning with a sore arm, I reached over to check it and found the adhesive and cotton ball confirmation of a blood draw some time during the night. My heart monitor went off indicating that one of the attachments came loose, but the nurse just reached under my gown and fixed it without my stirring. The IV drip finally stopped, and the attachment was removed without my being aware of it.

However, wide awake and out of toilet paper is another story: I asked 3 separate people for toilet paper, to no avail, so had to use up the tiny box of tissues that are provided for every room. As I was dressing for the walk to the wheelchair, I was finally able to convince the nurse to restock the toilet paper!

Regarding the whole food issue, suffice it to say that not only was I not fed, but when someone's left-over dinner was finally brought to me last night, following the angiogram, it included jello, pudding, juice, a huge white roll, and a handful of dried beef. Requiring diabetic meals does not seem to compute at the local hospital facility. Nor does the fact that a diabetic needs to eat about every 4 hours as I went 15 hours without food the first day and 24 hours without food following that meal.

I was treated to a bit of humor, courtesy of an embarrassed male nurse who, yesterday, came to take yet another EKG. He was a big guy, somewhat uncomfortable with having to attach the leads to my naked chest region. The direction he gave me was to “raise my chest,” which I did—right off the bed, to be sure it was high enough.

“No,” he said, “raise your chest.”

I looked at him quizzically and confirmed that I had, indeed, raised my chest. That’s when he averted his eyes and pointed at my left breast and said, “no, that. Raise that.”

I laughed and told him he must have missed anatomy class because “that” is a breast—or, for most guys, a boob or tit! If he had wanted me to raise my breast, he should have said so! He did the quickest EKG in the history of cardiology and was out of my room in a flash.

I’m home. Everything seems to be okay, except it does hurt where the catheter was inserted into my femoral artery for the angiogram, but by Friday, that should be good to go and I can drive again. Still haven’t taken a shower as that’s another activity reserved for tomorrow to protect the insertion site, but I have sponged off and taken a really nice, restorative nap.

Mia is curled up on the couch next to me, glad to have her mom back home, and I still have balls of cotton yarn to turn into more washcloths, so life is good.

The Guardian

One of my favorite pastimes is sharing time with my son, often during which we used to watch action movies. The Lethal Weapon series was a favorite, as well as some of the Clint Eastwood with a gun blowing criminals away movies. I’ll admit that I don’t watch many of this genre anymore because my son grew up and moved away. However, the other day I rented an action flick, The Guardian, with Kevin Costner and Ashton Kutcher. I liked it, I really liked it, even though I watched it all by my lonesome.

I enjoyed the story, which centers on the Coast Guard, most specifically the rescue swimmers. Although movies that feature a raging, pounding, angry, stormy sea don’t often engage my interest because I don’t swim and don’t much like water, this one is good. I hated the George Clooney film, the one with the boat battling the inevitable sinking in the storm of the century, and actually wished it had just sunk about 45 minutes into the film and saved me an hour of my time not because I wanted the men aboard the ship to perish at sea, but because the movie was tedious.

The three qualities of The Guardian that make it stand out from others are the commitment to excellence in the training program; the demand that high standards are both met and maintained; and the concept that teamwork is the solid foundation for success.

As a teacher, I know how important excellence in training is and how important it is to maintain high standards, but society does not support that philosophy for “my child.” We can all talk about how important excellence is for all students, but it never applies to “my child,” often because “my child” is special, a conversation that ends all effective discussion about all children. In the film, the recruits for the rescue swimmer program go in on day one knowing that half of them will not make the final cut because only the best can be certified as rescue swimmers. On day one, Kevin Costner’s character puts the recruits into the pool and tells them to tread water for an hour; anyone who cannot meet that standard for any reason is finished. When one man climbs out of the pool, he is dropped immediately; when he complains that he has a cramp in his leg, he’s directed to the door. If this were a public school classroom, we’d let him retake the challenge—and continue to enable him to retake it until the rest of the class grasps the concept of “it he doesn’t have to do it, I don’t have to do it.” The program would be changed to accommodate the one person who cannot meet the requirements, rather than moving that person on to something (s)he may be better able to do.

The other concept that is a core value in the film is teamwork. Not the phony “let’s all do the same thing at the same time and in the same way,” but the real concept of teamwork: we can only accomplish this goal if we all work together. It relies on each individual meeting the expectations of the task, rather than each person doing his/her own thing and shrugging off failure with a “whatever.” The three musketeers used the slogan, “One for all and all for one,” but we’ve replaced that concept with “it’s all about me.” For a rescue swimmer, the job includes not just jumping into the situation and doing one’s best, but it also includes deciding in a split second who lives and who dies. In a team, it is often possible that one person may have to die to save the lives of others, but we no longer honor that concept: think Cindy Sheehan, who dishonors her son’s death in combat by her refusal to accept it.

The certified rescue swimmer knows that it doesn’t matter who comprises the rest of the team because they all have the same training, they all meet the same standards of excellence, they all know what the job is and how to do it, and that’s what they do. They work together, complementing each other’s part in the rescue, and the reputation of the rescue swimmer is without blemish.

I’d show this film in a classroom, rather than directing the students to read another meaningless piece of lit bound in a bland textbook of appropriate pieces selected by a politically correct committee. We’d discuss the key ideas and write about them and probably learn something about ourselves, as well as about the other individuals in the classroom. The film is good PR for the Coast Guard, but it is also good commentary on demanding individual excellence to maintain program excellence. There is no download from the internet to earn a passing grade: each person has to jump into the pool and demonstrate that (s)he can tread water for an hour or go find something else to do because their ability is not compatible with this program.

So, How's Retirement?

I’ve run out of fingers and toes counting the number of times I’ve been asked that question during the past 6 weeks.

The answer is always the same: I don’t know how retirement is because, so far, it’s just taking a rare summer off, a summer that I don’t work. I planned to work, but the class I was scheduled to teach was canceled the week before summer session began. My fall classes begin with an in-service August 10, for which I am paid just to show up and sit through the agenda, and my commitment every Tuesday for 18 weeks leaves me lots of days to do whatever.

I do know that I’m not doing a darned thing because it’s too hot. Mia and I go for our walk early in the morning, long before 8 am, because after the sun is well and truly up in the sky, I stay inside. If I go outside during the actual day, little reddish blue spots appear on my exposed body parts, an indication that my exposed body parts are not happy to see the sun.

At this point in the process, I’m decompressing from a couple of intense years just completed, years that included working 3 jobs simultaneously, as well as completing my master’s degree. I had no time that was not already scheduled for that which had to be done, so having time now with nothing to do is precious. I’m exploring possibilities, including a visit to the local library, which has a story time for children, and the local senior center, which offers lots of fun activities with age-appropriate peers. I’m still interested in cake decorating classes and, if nothing else, I’m going to order the Betty Crocker 100-piece cake decorating set off the TV. I’m taking a trip to the coast to visit a special friend, and will stay a couple of days so I can walk my soul along the shore. My lawn is dying off because I’m determined to install desert-friendly landscaping, but I’m not sure how long it’s going to take to remove what’s there in 100+ degree weather when I can only work before/after the sun leaves the sky.

I just haven’t done those things yet.

I am reading, including some meaty books that I don’t read during the school year, which is when I read for fun. Two books that I’ve enjoyed are The Widow of the South, by Robert Hicks, and Jodi Picoult’s Perfect Match. I love the Roxanne St. Claire Bullet Catcher series, most anything written by Mariah Stewart, Lee Childs, Lisa Scottoline, Lindsay McKennon, Robt. Craix, Catherine Coulter, Janet Evanovich, Nora Roberts writing as J.D. Robb, and Harlan Coben. I have ordered a couple more John Sandford books after reading one. My one reading regret is that when she turned 50, my all-time favorite contemporary author, LaVyrle Spencer, stopped writing, so I’ve reread some of my favorite stories from my collection.

I’ve been renting films at the local video store so I can knit/crochet and think about whatever needs thinking about. The tally is 19 knit and 14 crocheted washcloths in a rainbow of color because I like making washcloths! When I tried to explain that to my b’fast friends, they suggested I make baby blankets and donate them to the local hospital, but I don’t like making baby blankets: I like making wash cloths! No, I don’t know what I’m going to do with them, but I use my own wash cloths in both the kitchen and the bathroom because they last forever, unlike the flimsy squares that are bundled and sold in the stores. One ball of all-cotton yarn ($1.67) makes one cloth, plus a little left over, and for every 3 balls I buy, I get a 4th cloth out of the left-overs from the 3 balls. What a deal.

Nope, haven’t begun the office project because I need help. I haven’t finished refinishing the dresser I use as a buffet because it’s too hot to finish the sanding in the garage—but it’ll cool off some in September, and it’ll only take me one weekend to complete that project. I did clean up dog poop in the backyard and tossed some big rocks into Mia’s nest by the fence because it looked like she may be tunneling her way to freedom. I’ve had my friend’s dog for 2 consecutive weeks, but feel housebound myself because I can’t leave Mia for the week I’d like to be gone because my dog sitter is out of state right now. I installed a shelving unit in my kitchen, in an unused corner, so now all the little things I’ve been setting here and there are all in one place and look as if they belong where I put them. I have an estimate on the security door installation, as well as the security lights on the sides of the house, but it’s too hot for anyone to climb in the attic to find the wires and complete the process. I have been to the fencing place and am thinking about getting that done, but don’t know if I should do it before I replace the lawn with desert landscaping or wait. Looks like September is going to be a busy month.

The other question, what am I going to do now that I’m retired, has a simple answer: I don’t know. I’ve never been retired before, so I’ll probably have to try a few things and see what fits. I love to cook, but don’t have anyone to cook for; otherwise, I might enjoy a cooking workshop. I’d like to go to Wyoming and Montana, as I’ve never been to either state, and I’d like to visit the dinosaur museum at 4 corners, where the states come together and the dinosaurs used to roam. I’d also like to stop at the Caverns in New Mexico. I drove past the exit for them a couple of times and thought about stopping, but I was on my way elsewhere, so didn’t make the turn. I’m not sure about the trip to Italy and Greece as I just can’t get comfortable with all that flying!

I won’t be relocating to Tyler as both of my dearest friends there are gone. Camille died a year ago, and Barbara passed away 6 mnths later, my two reasons for returning to a place I loved. If I do uproot myself and relocate, it’ll be to live closer to my children, not to go back to a town where now I know 2 fewer people in the already small circle of people I met while I was there.

So, that’s how retirement is at this point in my life. Once it cools off, retirement has great potential for becoming much more interesting as I’ll feel more comfortable about getting out and about. Until the temps come back into even the 90s, I’m just going to read more books, watch more videos, and up the count on washcloths.

CFLs

Compact fluorescent light bulbs are a lot of hype without the performance to back up the publicity. I am now working my way through the third, yes, the third box of GE Energy Smart™ CFLs, a box of 6 CFLs that are supposed to last 5 years! I’ve been willing to pay the extra bucks for the bulbs to save $$ on my electric bills, have bulbs that don’t have to be changed as often as the old incandescent bulbs, and do my part to save Mother Earth from my conspicuous consumption.

However, my experience is that the bulbs do not outlast the old-fashioned incandescent bulbs and need replacement about every 3 months, which negates the money-savings reason for using the CFLs. When CFLs burn out, they really burn out, with curling smoke and a noxious odor announcing it’s time—again—to replace another CFL. I haven’t decided how healthy the emission from the burning CFL is as it wafts its way throughout my house, but I do know the lamp contains mercury, a substance harmful to humans.

Of course, it is just in the last couple of months that I’ve learned I no longer can throw away the steady stream of burned-out CFLs as the mercury in them poisons the aquifer. Saving the environment from my conspicuous consumption is becoming a financial burden between the much higher initial cost of the CFLs and the cost to dispose of them properly.

I’ve bought CFLs from Big Lots, Wal-Mart, Sam’s Club, Lowe’s, and Home Depot, but I haven’t found a brand yet that saves me $$ while saving the environment, too. The last box, the GE Energy Smart™ bulbs, proudly proclaims “Lasts 5 years,” which theoretically off-sets the purchase price of $20 for 6 bulbs. However, the promised 8000 hours is actually 333.33 days, which is not even 1 year—leaving 4 years unaccounted for, so is the 5 years the shelf life of the package of bulbs?

No. Reading the limited warranty, the bulbs are “guaranteed to last 5 years based on rated life at 4 hours consumer use per day at 120v.” Ah, the 333.33 days of use would be round-the-clock, but at 4 hours a day of actual use of the bulb, I might actually get the 60 months? Not happening in my house.

Okay, I’ll admit that I use the bulbs more than 4 hours per day, and I suspect that most consumers use light bulbs more than 4 hours a day (duh!), but these CFLs are burning out just as fast in my fixtures as the old-fashioned bulbs. The box says the CFLs “use up to 75% less energy and last up to 10 times longer,” but I’d like to see the studies that support that claim.

The good news is that when my bulbs have a failure to perform, all I have to do is … return the UPC from the box and the dated register receipt and GE will replace my bulb! Fat chance of anyone saving both the UPC and the receipt for a light bulb and keeping track of how many 4-hour days of usage have been accrued, but it may happen in GE’s world, right?

Even though I MAY be saving the planet from destruction by using CFLs, I’m paying a bunch of bucks for bulbs that aren’t living up to their advertising claims, so how do I know they are living up to the ecological claims?

Of course, I’ll continue to use the CFLs, try to remember NOT to discard them with the trash, keep the thermostat up in the summer and down in the winter, replace my lawn with desert landscaping, and walk, rather than drive my car, to destinations that are within a mile.

When I question the wisdom behind my ecological decision-making process, all I have to do is recall that my use of “one six pack of GE Energy Smart™ CFL’s … prevents the emissions equal to six million cars being on the road.” To date, I've already saved emissions equal to 18 million cars being on the road!

Wow; it's so worth my sacrifice, even if I do have to change the bulbs every couple of months.

You know, if I've already saved the emissions from 18 million cars, perhaps I can reconsider my decision to walk, rather than drive my car, to destinations that are within a mile.

Popcorn Anyone?

If you’re going to do comedy, don’t have it church-specific and don’t use a child as a tool.

License to Wed could be really funny, but it’s not because it revolves around a cleric engaging in some outrageously inappropriate conduct and using a child to conduct criminal behavior. I watched it all the way through and was not thrilled with having done so.

Then, because it’s in excess of 115° in the desert, I stayed around and watched Evening, not the greatest idea if you’ve already watched a mother die in her bed at home from cancer.

The mother is supposed to look age-appropriate for 2 sisters in their late 30s, but she looks more like their grandmother! Of course, there’s the sister dysfunction, which I know up close and personal, as well as the hallucinations, which I also know up close and personal, as well as the floating memories of a time long past that could be real or imagined as the drugs drip into the veins. It wasn’t pleasant going through it the first time, and reliving the experience in a theatre filled with my peers did not improve my recollections.

All in all, it would have been better for me to sit on the couch and knit some more washcloths as my day at the movies was a bummer, dude.

Breaking News

“You don’t know what you don’t know,” the commentator says, and then analyzes the daily topics ad infinitum based on perception, innuendo, speculation, and pure ratings grab.

The list of what we don’t know is lengthy, including the Jessie Davis/Bobby Cutts situation; the Chris Benoit homicides; the details of the doctor’s involvement and arrest; the intimate details of Paris’s attempt to escape the media by fleeing to the Aloha State; the identification of the hunk allegedly sharing ocean with her; the contents of Britney’s hand-delivered correspondence to her mother; the legal basis behind the Libby sentence commutation and the ramifications for that action within the Republican party, its effects on the conservative movement, and the potential damage to the 2008 elections; nor how well the lobster pleased the palettes at the Lobster Summit with President Putin.

Because we don’t know jack, why do the newsreaders prattle on ad nauseum, sharing what are called the “details” of all of the stories they are purportedly reporting to the public?

If the situation in Britain were to develop in the US, the paparazzi would be there before the police, pushing and shoving to get the money shot! The key suspects would be able to avoid detection just by watching network coverage of police activity. And if there were any doubt about vulnerable targets of opportunity for terrorists, the networks would gleefully share those with the public and set up 24-hour surveillance just to be there when it happens.

In Britain, there is no on-site coverage of law enforcement personnel setting up command centers, positioning snipers on the roof tops, running the suspects to ground, or escorting the perp on the walk into the jail facility; instead, there is a news release each time another individual is arrested. Police business remains police business, not a media event.

My vote goes to the British: don’t say anything, an approach perhaps based on the Mark Twainian philosophy that it’s better to say nothing and be thought a fool than it is to open one’s mouth and confirm it.

...happily ever after

I watched the final episode of The Starter Wife, and cheered the ending as Molly realizes she needs to stand on her own two feet, to find herself again, rather than her stereotype. She publishes the book, dedicates it to the special people in her life, and then ruins the entire mini-series by asking, “Has anyone seen Sam?”

Life isn’t pretty, it isn’t neat, and it seldom ends happily ever after. Most of us come to the day when we have to face who we are and who we should be, and we either have the strength to accept the need to change or we wind down to our inevitable end, chugging a chain of should woulda coulda cars behind our caboose. We all die with loose ends that someone else has to gather into a ball and distribute or dispose. It’s the human condition, it is what is, and no one has the right to try to pretty it up to fit their perception of life’s reality.

My son challenged me to watch two videos, the director’s cut of Payback, a Mel Gibson film, and the Will Ferrell film, Stranger Than Fiction. He wants to know what I think, so here ‘tis.

Stranger Than Fiction fixes life, and that isn’t what life is all about. Harold read the book and he knew how important it was for his life to be what it is, not what he wants it to be, but that’s not the way the film ends. The only reason to watch this entire film is to get to the ending, and the ending is a huge disappointment. I feel cheated and do not recommend this film as it’s tedious to get to the contrivance and not worth the journey.

Payback, the director’s cut, is a difficult film to watch because it is harsh, it is violent, it is brutal—but it is honest, and, as hard as it was to do, I wanted to watch it. It is dark, both in tone and in cinematography, and it explores depths of depravity that I have never experienced, but somehow know exist. The film reminds me of another one of my favorites, Viggo Mortenson in A History of Violence.

Mel Gibson’s performance as Porter is terrifying as he becomes the crook who justifies the need to “pay back” the people who stole from him. He knows that his wife shot him in the back and left him for dead, but in this remake, the audience doesn’t know much of the back story, so his brutality toward her is shocking. As the story exposes layer upon layer of the plot, the viewer is drawn into the chain of events almost as an unwilling participant, and Porter, the central character, somehow becomes a “good guy” in a world of bad, worse, and worst characters.

I also watched the feature about remaking the film released in the theater and applauded the writer’s refusal to participate in the remake of his first version to be more commercial. He opted out of ‘fixing’ the film for the consumer, believing that his original vision was what needed to be released. He willingly, however, spent many weeks recapturing the film he thought he made the first time, and is pleased with the product currently on the shelves, even though it became a third version, rather than a remake of the first finished film.

It doesn’t matter what I watch, but it does matter that it’s honest and real, even when it’s fiction. "Just drive, baby, just drive."