Anyone who knows me is aware of my trials and tribulations with technology. Let’s call it a love/hate relationship. Of late let’s just say it’s leaning toward the latter.
Now don’t get me wrong; I do love my computer and all it has to offer. Take Google for instance. I’m from the era where research meant visiting the library to look through a multitude of books, searching microfiche or thumbing through volumes of index cards….time consuming and tediously boring necessities when seeking information.
Today Google simply tells us whatever we need to know. What’s not to love? Instant answers are at our fingertips. That’s exhilarating. Depending on how fast you type, you can have your answer within seconds. It’s actually quite remarkable, don’t you think?
I received a call last week from Chris who has over 70 acres in the hills 10 miles from me. He and his wife are interested in getting feral cats as mousers for this, their second home with an upstart vineyard, enormous house, big red barn, a flourishing garden, a pool and pool house. In a word: the place is a dream. Yes, I’m aware that’s five words. But come on, it’s too incredible to warrant just one.
Anyway, the vineyard is isolated almost 3 miles off the main road, winding along seemingly endless pastureland. It was then that it occurred to me this could be a setup. I hadn’t told anyone where I was going and who knows what awaited at the end of that gravel road?
I’m sitting here with my laptop actually on my lap while Wally sleeps on the ottoman. Thoughtful of him to let me have some of it, don’t you think? Anyway, you probably notice his belly band (aka diaper). Not exactly stylish but Amazon lost my order of fashionable diapers for him and Taffy, my other pup who also struggles with the concept of peeing outside.Having said that, I do have 2 other pups who recognized long ago that canines peeing in the garden is the preferable urinary etiquette expected by dog guardians who enjoy their home being pee-free. Two out of 4. Humm. Where did I go wrong?
Last week I wrote that the older I get, the less I care about how I’m perceived by others. I’m noticing that also goes for voicing my opinion, good bad or ugly. Apparently this whole aging thing has dulled my sense of concern in regard to what slips out of my mouth.
Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not condoning being rude or hurtful. Not at all. I’m just saying I no longer feel the need to remain silent when something strikes me as wrong, or to temper my response to please someone when I’m asked my opinion and it happens to be different from theirs.
Generally speaking, I think women (more than men) struggle with confronting friends when they have a criticism, even if it’s constructive. My women friends avoid this scenario at all costs because they don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings.Continue reading →
I want to scream. I’m talking the kind of scream where I throw myself on the ground like a 5-year-old having a tantrum, legs kicking wildly, arms flailing, red faced and near tears. THAT kind of scream.
So what could cause me, a normally even-tempered, happy-go-lucky gal to feel this way? Two words…a dishwasher. God help me (and everyone around me) if another of my appliances bites the dust. I’m at the point with this Bosch dishwasher that I’d throw it through a window if I could lift it. Which I can’t. So I won’t. Continue reading →