Awareness Issues: Who’s Clueless Now?

I’m not known for my mindfulness. Frequently I walk into doors, trip over lines in the floor, and manage to poke myself in the eye while applying makeup. I once nearly caught the house on fire by accidentally dropping a load of clean laundry on top of a burning candle. If not for the unique scent of burning elastic, I’d likely be living somewhere other than Doright Manor. And those were my favorite panties. 😢

Studly Doright, on the other hand, prides himself on his observational abilities. And I have to admit that he notices stuff other males often don’t—new haircuts, new eyeglass frames, anything new I happen to have purchased hoping he wouldn’t notice. That old line “This old dress? I’ve had it for ages!” never works on him.

Very rarely will he be out of the loop when something changes in his domain. But when he slips, I’m there to take note.

Just a couple of days ago I heard him say, “Hey, you finally hung the grandkids’ senior pictures!”

“Yes, honey, they’ve been up in the same location for two months now.”

“Really?”

“Yep. A couple of feet from the door you walk through multiple times every single day. Now who has awareness issues?”

Then he reminded me of that time when I didn’t realize he’d shaved off his beard until he’d been clean shaven for a month. In my defense, it never was much of a beard.

And the time I got into the driver’s seat of a complete stranger’s car and wondered why my key wouldn’t fit into the ignition.

And also the time I had a conversation with my own reflection in a mirror. I was a bit drunk, but still…

I guess I remain the clueless one. How could he not notice these stunning young people though? Boggles the mind. Has anyone seen my phone? Oh, right, I’m using it to blog.

Garrett and Dominique

Peace, people?

Pioneers

This morning I was halfway to Tallahassee when I realized I’d left my phone at home. I came close to turning the car around and going back to Doright Manor to fetch my little rectangular lifeline, but resisted the urge and continued on into town.

I’m not going to lie; I felt helpless without it—not nearly as helpless as I felt when I lost the phone at Whole Foods last week, but that’s a story of its own.

Then I remembered those days when my daddy drove us from Floydada, Texas, to Los Angeles, California, without a cell phone or a GPS. He did it with maps and a pocketful of change for phone booths along the way. Freaking amazing.

Today’s kids need to remember the bravery of their grandparents and great grandparents who crossed deserts in cars without air conditioning. Monuments should be erected to those brave souls who didn’t have heated seats when driving in blizzard-like conditions across the plains of North Dakota.

And lest we forget, we should all pay homage to those pioneers who continue to physically insert keys into ignitions or manually roll down windows or drive in reverse without the benefit of a backup camera. I’ve done them all and lived to tell about it. Hear me roar!

Those of my generation might never have driven a team of mules through the muck and mud of an unpaved, rut-infested road, but by golly, we’ve had our share of hardships.

Now, I think I need to go back and get that phone.

Peace, people.

Vaguely relevant photo

Studly Doright: Air Conditioning Hero

Florida is hot this time of year. I mean really hot. So, when one of our air conditioning units went kaput last week we didn’t hesitate to call on a heating and air conditioner service.

We are gold level customers at B_________’s Heating and Air in Tallahassee. That means we pay an annual fee that covers biannual maintenance visits and results in discounts for any labor and parts costs. Sounds great, right?

Well, when the unit failed, the company sent out two guys to work on it. One seemed to be a trainee, but hey, two heads are better than one, right? The two guys fumfered around for several hours before declaring that either the air handling control board had gone bad OR our thermostat needed to be replaced. Their lack of certainty was less than reassuring.

They wanted to install a rescue motor to bypass the circuit board until they could get a new board from the supplier. The rescue board, a temporary fix, would cost $250. When the new board arrived (it was currently on back order) in a month or so, it would cost $1200 ($1500 if we hadn’t had the gold discount) and that didn’t include labor.

Studly Doright was having none of it. He got the parts number, looked it up online, and found the same brand new board for $486. It came in today and in about ten minutes Studly had the thing installed and now our home is pleasantly cool.

I’m all for companies making a profit. Honest. But that kind of mark up on a simple part is ridiculous. Couple that with the need for a temporary “rescue motor” because the part we needed was unavailable (even though we found it in one simple search of the internet) and one might come to the conclusion that we were being snookered.

All I can say is thank goodness for Studly Doright. It’s too bad every home doesn’t have one.

He’s good with dogs, too.

Peace, people!

Still Wearing My Mask

I’m fully vaccinated, but I live in Florida where only 49.8% of the population can say the same. Good old Florida, where the number of those infected with Covid continues to rise and hospitals are again running out of resources with which to treat them. I personally know a man who was sent home on oxygen because the local hospital was out of beds for Covid patients. He’s not doing well.

The Delta variant is resulting in breakthrough infections among the vaccinated. And while if I were to be infected I’d likely have a milder case of Covid than an unvaccinated person, I’m not willing to risk it.

This stubborn refusal to take the vaccine coupled with the anti-mask mindset of many in my state is literally killing people. And I just don’t understand it. For some it’s become political—a show of solidarity for a former president (who, by the way, admits to having received the vaccine). I guess I put common sense above politics.

Others have fallen victim to disinformation spread via social media. I’ve had people tell me that the vaccine inserts a device into the bloodstream so the government can track them. That one gives me a headache. Guess what, folks, the government really doesn’t have time or the need to track every single one of us. And unless you’re up to no good, why would that even worry you?

Others believe the vaccine is the biblical mark of the beast. C’mon man. I’ve had every vaccine available since I was a little kid. Chances are, these naysayers had as well—until Covid came along.

So yes, I’m still masked up even as I see most of my fellow Floridians unmasked in stores. I smile at them with my eyes while they give me dirty looks. Like I’m the one potentially spreading a deadly virus. Hm. Go figure.

Peace, people.

Mind Blown

A contributor on a Facebook writers’ group posed a question today about when to use the word “supposably” instead of “supposedly.” My gut reaction was to reply that “supposably” was slang. Fortunately, I decided to Google the word and to my amazement found this:

Supposably means “as may be conceived or imagined” and is the adverb form of supposable, which means “capable of being supposed or conceived.” On the other hand, supposedly usually means “allegedly.” The words are often conflated when one usually intends to say “supposedly.”

All I have to say is”Holy Wordsmithing, Batman!”

Now, a good many folks who commented on the post refused to believe the Google entry. They preferred to stick with old knowledge. Supposedly they’d be the ones who supposably might ignore the importance of vaccines leading to dire consequences.

I have no idea if I used the word “supposably” correctly or not. It’s a tricky one and I’ll probably ignore it from now on. Still, it is a word, so don’t disrespect it.

Peace, people!

Crazy Gracie, Shredder of Worlds

Our beautiful cat came to us already named Gracie. And since she was beautiful and the epitome of grace we kept the name. However, Shredder of Worlds might have been a more suitable moniker.

It took about a week for this scratching post to start unraveling. Note that she’s liberated the ping ping balls from their furry coverings.
Gracie laughs in the presence of corrugated cardboard.
For a brief time there were feathers on the end of this stick. Now it boasts only a stub.

She’s figured out how to open the antique hutch in which her snacks are stored, and at least once a week I wake up next to a package of treats.

See the little tooth marks?

Gracie is endlessly fascinating and slightly intimidating. We are kind of in love.

Don’t be fooled by my innocent look.

Peace, people!

This Old Picture

That’s me holding Ashley and Studly holding Jason.

As I recall this was taken right before Christmas late in the evening. The baby, Ashley, had been sick for several days. Neither she nor I had gotten much rest in that period of time. Studly Doright had just come off a week of working the midnight shift at Northern Natural Gas in Sunray, Texas. He was exhausted and almost as cranky as Ashley and I were. Only three-year-old Jason was in a good mood.

Cue a knock at the door. Studly’s brother-in-law, Steve, and Steve’s dad, were standing on our porch. Steve had a brand new camera and was itching to try it out. On us. Oh mercy.

Reluctantly, I agreed and the result was the American Gothic type image on display in this post. Never one to enjoy having my picture taken, I’m pretty sure I was thinking horrible thoughts about the photographer. Sorry, Steve, if you’re reading this. Thank goodness none of the stuff I wished on you came true. Not yet anyway…

A few years after this was taken our son said, “I really don’t like this picture. It makes us look poor.”

“Well, son,” Studly said. “We were poor.”

“And exhausted,” I added.

At the time, I didn’t like it either, but now I kind of love this old photo. Steve, I forgive you.

Peace, people.

The Pessimistic Optimist

The pessimistic optimist believes

That the glass is half full

Of some noxious liquid.

That the grass is always greener

But the fertilizer

Is toxic

That the shiny silver lining

Is mostly worthless strands of tinsel

This, friend, is a day in the life of someone

Who counts her chickens

Before the eggs have even

Been laid.

Jacksonville Zoo

One of the highlights of the anniversary trip Studly Doright and I took this past week was a visit to the Jacksonville Zoo. We’d heard great things about this particular zoo and we weren’t disappointed.

Knowing the temperatures were going to rise into the high 90’s on Friday, with a heat index of 110° predicted, we checked out of our wonderful hotel room at Margaritaville on Jacksonville Beach early and were at the zoo when the gates opened.

This zoo was kind of magical. The habitats were spacious and creatively designed with walkways for the animals that allowed for closeup viewing without restrictive cages.

In the bonobo exhibit.
This guy was upset that another bonobo was pushing a red bowl around.
Very upset!
From the tiger exhibit.
He was so close to us!
Who doesn’t love a giraffe? We missed seeing the little ones!
This guy was a visitor just like us.
Handsome guy
Shudder!
These guys were taking it easy.
While this one was lying in wait…
This quote by Langston Hughes is one of my favorites.

At each exhibit there were volunteers explaining how the animals had been acquired and the steps taken to provide the optimal habitat for each of the zoo’s residents. It was a great way to spend a few hours.

The landscaping was gorgeous.

Peace, people!

Forty-five Years and a Bad Selfie

In a perfect world every selfie taken on one’s 45th wedding anniversary would turn out perfectly. Alas, I’m not very photogenic and after multiple tries this is what we ended up with.

At least we had a beautiful day and plenty of great food.

Our hotel—the brand new Margaritaville in Jacksonville Beach.
Our pool and our view.
Ahhh!
Give me the beach and I’m happy.

Peace, people!