Call me “Scaredy Cat!”

I have this little problem with technology.  I am a bit afraid of it!  I don’t have a fear that I might push the wrong button and crash my computer.  I am afraid of undoing something I have already done. (I hate wasted effort and wasted money, although I am very good at wasting time.) I am deathly afraid of updates! My wireless printer is so very convenient, but it keeps giving me an “Updates Available” message and I keep ignoring it!  You see, I am also a creature of habit and I am reluctant to create change in my workspace.  Comfort – it might be my undoing.  Imagine my dismay when my oldest son who was visiting for the weekend walked by my printer, noticed the message, and touched the “OK” button!  I gave him a threatening look.  He just shook his head and walked off.  I have yet to discover if he broke anything.

When I had my first cell phone I was notorious for letting the battery get too low.  My husband would chastise me for not carrying my phone.  “Oh, I had it, but the battery was dead,” was my typical response. I enjoyed my first camera phone and clung to it for years. My last camera phone recently gave up the ghost.  When the screen died and I could no longer tell if it was OFF or ON or whether I was sending or receiving a text, I knew it was time for a new phone.  Did I mention I’m not good with change? The same oldest son convinced me to get an iPhone. I didn’t want to pay for the data package (wasted money?) nor was I crazy about learning to use something different.  I was also feeling a little guilty about the indulgence.

For the first few days I took some really great pictures, sent text messages easily, and added my contacts. (By the way – you may want to message me your phone number as I lost them all when the flip phone died.) I continued to feel guilty about the data package. I then determined to use the phone as it was made to be used.  It changed my life! It is a much better communicator than my old phone friend.  For instance, I had a meeting the other for which I was going to be a few minutes late.  Unfortunately, I did not have the individual’s phone number in my contacts, but she is a friend on Facebook.  I couldn’t send a text message, but I was able to send a Facebook message!  Problem solved.  Everything from Map my Run to the organization tools it offers is making things better for me.  I have scripture references at my fingertips and a stop watch I can actually see. My grocery list is now on my phone. Not to mention being able to Face Time with my grandkids!

Silly me.  What took me so long? I’m loving my new phone!

What good things have you embraced that you were previously afraid to face?

Early morning emergency!

It is not unusual around my house to receive phone calls and front door visits at odd hours.  My husband serves as local clergy and sometimes he is needed when most folks are sleeping.  When these occasions arise, some very specific questions pop into my head.  “Who died? Where is the fire? Do I need to tag along?  Does he need a white shirt?”

This morning, long before sunup, our doorbell rang.  That is unusual because it’s a temperamental bell and only works if it is pushed just right.  My husband, an early riser, was already in the shower and I was enjoying the last minutes of my morning – sound asleep!  When the bell rang, the questions began.  Thankfully, the list was interrupted with the thought, “You are in your underwear.  Find something else to throw on before you answer the door!”  With that, I scrambled through the dark house to don a robe and get to the front door before the individual in dire need gave up and departed.  As I readied myself for any number of emergencies that were about to present themselves, I opened the door to see a young man of about 22 years of age standing on my front step.  In his hand he held a newspaper.

“I deliver your paper,” he began.   “And … I don’t know if you know it or not, but … your house was toilet papered!”

It begins.

What?  Nobody died? I thought for a moment I was experiencing one of my early morning dreams that were often disjointed and completely senseless. I think I may have shaken my head to clear the cobwebs. He waited, dutifully, for my response.

“Um … yes, thank you.  It’s Homecoming week.  It will probably be like this all week. We’ll just leave it, but … THANKS!”  In earlier years I would have responded with much more sarcasm!  Lucky for him I have mellowed some.

I returned to my bedchamber, heart racing, still confused as to why my sleep was interrupted.  In nearly twenty years of receiving the traditional Homecoming Week honor of toilet paper on my lawn and in my trees, there has never been a Good Samaritan that felt the need to wake me from my slumber and inform me of the damages to my property.  I am hoping it will take at least twenty more before another comes my way!

My newspaper is still waiting on the step along with some of the evidence!

If you win, I lose. Really?

There is an idea being widespread that, in my opinion, is both false and disturbing.  Many in today’s world, especially in the USA, are under the impression that if one person is wealthy it will automatically make another person poor.  That is like saying, “If she loses weight, it will make me fat,” or, “If your house is clean, then my house must be dirty.”  It simply does not make sense.

In my world, those who have more money not only spend more money, thus contributing to economic health, they also give more to charity, thus helping those in need. 

Surely there are those enslaved in poverty from which they have very little hope of release.  They often had no hand in creating their circumstances. However, to blame their poverty on the wealthy is an incorrect assumption.  This is not intended to be a political post, rather an observation of a thinking trend that is handicapping all of us.  If we adopt this attitude, we deny our own accountability. Think about it.

“I am unhealthy because there are too many fitness fanatics around. It has nothing to do with my choices to hang out on the sofa and eat junk food.”

“I didn’t finish high school because there were too many smart kids in my class.  It had nothing to do with my failure to show up for class.”

 “If he has four cars, then there will not be enough cars for me to have one, because he bought all the cars.”

Have you got the picture yet?  Here is one more just to help you see …

“If he is happy, then I have to be sad.”

It just does not make any sense.  However, it is a very effective tool for those that would have us remain in a state of unhappiness and discontent.  Denying one’s accountability only fosters an attitude of disappointment and inevitable failure, because there will always be those who succeed and according to popular thought, if somebody succeeds others must fail.  Don't get caught in this thinking trap.

That is my opinion.  What is yours?

The Price of Procrastination

Yesterday was a windy day.  I made the mistake of putting off my run until today, thinking it would be a better day for running.  I should know better.  Oh, I am familiar with the old adage, "Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today," but sometimes my hope of a brighter future leads me into trouble.  You see, had I faced the wind and gone for a run yesterday, today would be brighter because I could stay indoors free of guilt.  Alas, I must run.

Nuther is NOT a word!

I can't take it another minute! I've held my tongue long enough. If I have to listen to another newscaster give another badly phrased description of another anything, I may scream! These people are getting paid to speak. Can they not get it correct?

“A nuther” (emphasis on the 'A') is not anywhere near proper grammar. Nuther is NOT a word! Even more offensive is the tendency to insert another word into the middle for emphasis, as in “A whole nuther!” Are you kidding me?

The British claim Americans have adulterated the English language. I'm beginning to think the British have been watching our evening news.

I don't claim to speak perfectly. I often use words such as “cuz” and “yeah” and even the occasional “ain't.” In my defense, I am not getting paid to have people listen to me – not yet, anyway! I am considering it. Maybe I could git a whole nuther job jist yapping at a camera.

Reality Check?

I had to renew my driver's license this week.  That's right - I am having a birthday.  It's not a significant one.  That happened last year. 
I don't know why, but the driver's license renewal is just unappealing to me.  It is especially bothersome since Idaho went to the eight year plan. Daily stuff like making my bed and brushing my teeth do not present themselves as nuisances.  It's the annual things that get to me - taxes, vehicle registrations, and physical exams.  I just don't seem to have time for those! Those things on an eight year rotation ... why bother?
The driver's license renewal is a bit of an honesty check, is it not?  I'm really squeaking to pass the eye test!  I forgot and left my distance glasses home. (I seldom use them!) The weight question always gets me. 
"Is your weight still the same?"
"Well, no, it has gone down a bit, but actually it is closer to the weight listed.  Just leave it." (I've been lying about my DL weight for years!)
Hair color?  That changes all the time!
It is good, too, that they do the eye test prior to snapping the photo.  I couldn't see a thing afterwards!  I hope I recognize my signature.
Friends have been complaining about the "new" Idaho license design.  I don't think it has anything to do with the new design.  I think we just hate the whole experience.  It's just too revealing.

The Eye of the Beholder

Two weeks away from the wide open spaces of Idaho was most interesting.  I can't do it all justice in one post, so I will begin with this ...

I landed in Pittsburgh and rented a very small economy car to drive to Erie, PA.   Beautiful green trees with splashes of red were everywhere!  Freeway exits in Idaho are spotted miles away, as are the various conveniences surrounding those exits.  In woody Pennsylvania, if one isn't reading signs she may miss the exit entirely.  At the very least, she will be unable to spot any of the conveniences surrounding that exit.  (I did not miss exits.  I avoided them.)  The "ways" are not FREE.  I encountered toll highways. 

In Idaho, as in Utah, Colorado, Nevada, and most western states, mountains are clearly identified.  Hills are not mountains!  Apparently, the wooded hills I was traversing were mountains.

When I spotted the warning road sign "Falling Rocks" I naturally looked heavenwards.  It's a normal reaction for a Westerner! We expect to see rocky cliffs threatening to loose small boulders sending them tumbling to smash our vehicles. There was nothing heavenwards.  Rather, there was a raised median that was sloughing mud and a few small rocks into the barrow pit.  Hence, the "Falling Rocks" warning!

Their lake is vast.  I wanted to call the shoreline a coast.

It's all relative!

What Does it Really Mean?

You've heard the expression, “And then the wheels started coming off.” It is a metaphor most often referring to the falling apart of a plan. How about this one? “I'm going to drive it into the ground.” This is yet another metaphor for using something until there is nothing left to use, as in a car or a vacuum. (Spelled it correctly this time!)

Well, today I did both! As I was mowing our large and hilly lawn with my John Deere mower that has high miles and a rebuilt body, one wheel fell off! The drive wheel, however, was still engaged in its duty, continuing to propel the mower forward literally driving it into the ground! There is a lovely gouge in the hillside of my front lawn.

And I thought they were merely metaphors ...

I'd Rather be Writing?

Why is it sometimes so hard to write?  When I don't have the time, all I can think about is writing.  When I have the time, here is what I do ...

Turn on the computer and check my email.
Start a load of laundry.
View my checking account balance.
Look on facebook to see if I have any new friends.
Grab a snack.
Check my blog stats.
Check my other email account.
Look to see if I have written anything in the past worthy of posting today.
Google literary agents.
Read the blogs I follow.
Wonder how to get more followers on my blog.
Look for a cute photo to post with a blog I have not yet written.
Bake something.

And the list goes on ...

Singers and Stars

I recently had the opportunity to chaperon the Parma High Singers on a trip to Seattle. It's quite a job. They are a pretty rough crowd - a bunch of country kids, athletes, and honor students. Just look at them!

After their performance the judge was doing her best to critique and display her knowledge. One number she chose to give pointers for was "And the Night." In an attempt to inspire the choir to catch the "feeling" of the song (the night is filled with music) she told them to imagine they were camping. "Look at the sky and see all the stars - not like when you are at home in the city." (Or something like that.)

Hey Lady! We can see the stars from our front step!!

Ya gotta love the country!

Channeling Shirley

I've found my muse!

I'm going to forget about writing material that has any depth to it. I just need to write about junk. The kookier the better.

I caught snippets of Shirley Maclaine on the Oprah Show yesterday afternoon. (I'm not a regular Oprah viewer, but occasionally I indulge just a bit.) Now there's a woman with something to say! What she says is, well, out there!

I believe in allowing folks to follow their own path. If they truly believe in something, who am I to stand in their way? Let them follow what they may. And if it sells books ...

Does she really thinks all those goofy things, or does she just know how to sell books??? The woman is a a self-proclaimed expert on reincarnation and UFOs. I'm wondering what the purpose of UFOs are if the same souls just keep returning to this earth over and over again. Don't UFOs travel betwixt planets? Having seen them in Peru and other parts south of the equator, Shirley would certainly know how to identify an unidentified flying object, would she not? Because she lives in New Mexico where she claims there is a concentration of UFOs (apparently the Land of Enchantment is a conduit) her observational skills are well honed...

"UFO's look like clouds," she says. "But then they move."
Moving clouds? Incredible! Where can I buy her book?

I'm gonna give it a try.
I have aliens in my fruit room. They look like potatoes, but they have white antennae coming out of the top of their heads.

Anybody wanna buy a book?

Privacy Protection

My privacy is so well protected I can't hear myself think!

You know the instructions …

“Please reset your password. It must contain a minimum of eight characters with at least one upper case and one lower case letter and two numbers … and no special characters.”

“Please set three security questions. 1) What was the name of your first pet? (I was a kid. How should I know?) 2) The name of your college roommate. (I had lots of those.) 3) What is your grandfather's mother's maiden name? (Let me get out the family bible!)

My son is serving a two year proselyting mission in Brazil. He only calls outside the country on Christmas and Mothers' Day. He lost his debit card three months ago! I ordered a new one and he finally received it three weeks ago. In his weekly email he indicated he was having difficulty using it. I stepped in to the local bank ...

“Everything seems to be working. Did you give him the correct PIN?” I sent another email with the PIN once again. I assumed that was the problem. Another week went by and another email arrived - “Still having trouble with the card. Here is an 800 number for assistance.” I called the 800 number …

“Please give me the last four digits of your social security number to verify your identity.”

“Please give me the number on the card.”

“If you could just ask him if it gives him an error message when he tries to use the card ...”

Me: I cannot call him. I have to wait for an email. He needs access to this account!

“If you could just call him ...”

Me: I can't call him! It will take two weeks to get an answer by email!

“I can't view his account because you are not him.”

Me: I am a co-owner of that account! I have all his information. I have Power of Attorney for him! HE NEEDS ACCESS TO THIS ACCOUNT! It will take two months to order another card and get it to him. Can't you just check to see if it is authorized for international use?

“I am a mother, too, so I understand, but because his name is on the card I can't ...”

Me: My local bank was able to access it last week!

“I would hate to give information to the wrong person ...”

Me: WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? HE NEEDS ACCESS TO THIS ACCOUNT!!

“Well you could step in to your local bank and they could VERIFY YOUR IDENTITY.”

Isn't that why I gave her the last four digits of my SSN?

I Could Have Been Sunbathing!

I was supposed to be sitting on a beach in St. Thomas, Virgin Islands today, my skin softening from the humid tropical climate, toes wriggling in the sand, nails painted to match the waters of the Caribbean, lunching at one of the many restaurants at my all-inclusive hotel ...

Alas, here I sit at my computer, skin drying from the forced air, toes curling and uncurling as I work, fingers turning blue from the frigid northern air, wondering what I shall fix for lunch ...

Blame the weather. Blame the airlines. Blame poor luck.

I'm trying to keep a positive outlook. Maybe this is my lucky day? What about the other passengers of the 5500 flights that were canceled this week? Is it possible we could all be lucky?

I'm using the time to promote my writing. I rewrote my query letter. I searched out and contacted yet another agent for my novel. I'm blogging with a complete lack of humility (or is it in a complete act of desperation?) to gain followers that my writing might become popular and I may somehow hit the literary jackpot.

It is always a stab in the dark. This agent has an interesting name. This agent "says" she accepts historical fiction. This agent actually has an active website!

So I stab and then I wait. Then I scar! "Thank you for your submission, but ..."
"We don't feel we can effectively represent you in the current marketplace." Huh?
"Your manuscript does not fit our needs." But I only sent you a letter - you haven't read the mss.
"Your work has merit and your characters are well developed, but I represent writing set in North America, specifically, Maine." Doesn't that limit one just a bit?

More stabbing. More waiting.

Oh, to have been basking on the beach today!

Impressions

There's nothing like a first impression … or a second, or third, or whatever it takes to make a good one!

I make retainers for peoples mouths. They need to fit. The problem is, no matter how talented I am or how meticulous I work, the quality of the final product cannot be better than the quality of the model provided. In other words, if someone else does inferior work, my work will inevitably be inferior and there is nothing I can do to fix it. Frustrating.

Okay, there are a few things that I can try to make the product a bit better, such as build a tooth where there wasn't one or whittle away a glob of plaster that doesn't belong, but I can only use my experience and imagination hoping that I am getting a “close” rendition of the actual mouth. It will, however, never be quite the same.

Here's what I think …

*First impressions might be poor, but it is worth the effort to try to rectify them.

*Others cannot fix our mistakes, however, they often pay for our errors and shortcomings.

*Even the best imitation is not as good as the original.

That's my sermon for today!

Ski Season

The snow has fallen! I don't remember the last time my favorite ski resort was open in November! Here we are clear into the third day of December and the Greens have not yet hit the slopes. The boys are getting restless! The master of the house is beginning to twitch!

It creates a bit of a problem, this early season opening. I had not planned to commit my Saturdays to the ski hill until much closer to Christmas. After all, I am still a football junkie! The transition goes something like this ...

1 - Clothing. Rather than don a favorite team shirt and lounge pants, participants now must layer on warm and wicking base layers and waterproof outer layers. Gone are the fuzzy socks and slippers. It's time to cram ones foot into unyielding ski boots. Helmets, gloves, and goggles are also part of the required attire.

2 - Alarm Clock. Yes, I have to set it on Saturday.

3 - Food. No more various snacks and main courses dubbed "tailgate food," it is necessary that the meal now fit into the small crock pot (this I love!) that plugs into the dashboard lighter. Chips and sodas are allowed as the physical activity provides a bit of justification. In addition to regular breakfast, a cream filled Bismark is often consumed on the drive up the hill! Ironically, this meal is often consumed on an actual tailgate as opposed to the tailgate food that is consumed in front of a TV!

4 - Equipment. The remote control has been traded for skis, boots, poles, goggles, helmets, jackets, gloves, and ski passes.

5 - Recovery. Much the same with the addition of ibuprofen consumption.

And so it begins ...

Just a Formality!

While I was busy doing my best to get a PR (Personal Record for all you non-running fans)my sisters and company were making the most of their journey. Notice the tuxedos? That's right, the Nelson girls managed to get a formal escort across the finish line! Maybe we SHOULD have gone for Gofer Girls, cuz we always go fer boys!

It's Really About Love

My husband can seldom pop the top on a soda can without sharing “just a sip” with me. The same goes for chocolate cake, cookies, dessert at a restaurant, etc. It’s not that I really want a soda. If I wanted one, I would have one. I think it’s deeper than that. What I really want is to know if he loves me enough to share his soda with me.

Think about it. How many times have you seen a woman take “just a taste” of her sweetheart’s dessert? She doesn’t really want a dessert, for if she did, she would want the whole serving … and she wouldn’t be all that willing to share.

It is a test. Maybe it is a ritual or a well choreographed dance. Hubby orders dessert. Wife declines, “I couldn’t eat another bite.” Hubby gets his dessert. Wife helps herself to Hubby’s dessert - just a bite! Hubby never complains, because … he loves her, and he expects to share … and he knows the game rules.

Overheard recently after a wife helped herself to her husband’s sports drink:

Husband #1 “They always want to share.”
Husband #2 “Ya, until it’s theirs. They don’t ever want to share with us!”

That’s right, because if we really wanted a treat, we would want it all to ourselves. We’re just testing them. Isn’t it grand that they know the rules?

Look Who's Whining Now

I'm the one that taught this kid to ski when he was whining that he just preferred to kneeboard - he didn't want to learn to ski. Now, he's the first one in the water every time. We started that practice when he was little, because he was the baby. It helped to minimize the whining!

Now - he just likes to show off. Wonder where he got that? Last week he graduated to his dad's ski. Look out! There's no living with him now!

I have never been able to get that low to the water. Fear? Maybe. Not tough enough? Maybe. Too old? Maybe. Guess I'll just have to play the "Grandma" card. Or, there is always the "I brought you into this world" card. Whatever. He's been a great student. Taught him everything I know!

Warning Signs?

We embarked on a long awaited bike ride through the country. We estimated the route to be about 20 miles - a nice Saturday morning ride. The route had been planned for weeks. The weather was nice. Nothing would keep us from our goal, not even the Fourth of July flag raising ceremony others were attending. This was our chance!

"Detour Ahead" only means detour if you don't live in the area, are afraid of gravel, or believe road construction truely means men will be working, right? It was a Saturday. There would be no workers, after all, this is a government job. Gravel is a fact of life in a farming community. If you don't believe it, just take a look at my windshield. Bikes can weave their way through any construction barricade. Right?

We turned left.

Someone must be reinforcing a bridge up ahead. It's Saturday. We'll just pedal across.

We would definitely need to weave through some barricades. We might even need to carry the bikes if the terrain was too rough, but it shouldn't be very far ...

Hmm. A barricade ... and a truck.

Yet another warning sign. "You have exactly 500 feet to turn back!" We had already come seven miles, surely we wouldn't have to turn back now!

The bridge must be beyond that truck. Time to get off the bikes and walk around the big truck blocking the bridge.

More construction equipment. It's called a track hoe. It's often used for clearing debris from irrigation canals in early Spring. Why would it be needed to reinforce a bridge?

What bridge!

If we just carry the bikes along the cement retaining wall, lift them over the rail and onto the metal beam, walk them across the beam, lift them down onto the cement retaining wall on the other side of the canal ....

Then maybe we could finish our long awaited twenty mile (22.9 to be exact) bike ride. And so we did!

(Note to self: In the future carry a camera on all adventures. This photo would have been oh so much more exciting with him in his bike shorts, helmet, and gloves actually lifting the bike!)

Is there a moral to this story? You pick.

"Ignoring warning signs and promptings is foolish and will only lead to trouble."

"Don't let anything discourage or detour you from your goal."

"Always be prepared, ie. carry a camera!"

"When someone says 'I think it is 20 miles,' expect it to be longer and know that there will be obstacles to overcome."

Huh?

A sign on the drive up window at my bank reads:

Non-customers must come inside.
Use rock or bar.

I thought about taking a photo, but I was afraid I would be mistaken for a non-customer trying to enter the bank with my camera instead of using a rock or bar as instructed.