Mad Skills

When Studly Doright and I returned home from our brief trip to northeastern Georgia we were faced immediately with two issues. 1) Our refrigerator/freezer had stopped doing its job, and many of the contents inside were rendered inedible. 2) Our television developed the odd habit of turning off after ten to fifteen minutes of viewing. The sound continued operating, but there was no picture.

Our first inclination was to call repair companies for both issues, so we googled the appropriate service providers and soon had repairmen scheduled. Neither could come quickly, though, and that was frustrating.

As we sat contemplating our situation Studly looked at me and said, “I think I can fix that refrigerator.”

Not to be outdone I said, “I think I can fix the television.”

Truly I was kidding, but once Studly began exploring the fridge and gathering tools, I decided to see what Google could tell me about our television’s problem. The hard part was in figuring out how to word my question, but after only three tries I hit pay dirt.

It took Studly about three hours to get the refrigerator cooling properly—and that included two trips into town for supplies. It took me approximately five minutes total to fix the telly and to call the tv repairman to cancel our appointment. Yep, I won. Studly just won’t acknowledge that there was ever a competition.

Peace, people!

Hooty-hoot

There’s an owl in my neighborhood. I can hear him hooting every evening, and I always hoot back. A couple of years ago the owl (probably not the same one I’m hearing now) did a flyover to check out the “owl” who’d responded to his hoots. He wasn’t impressed. After all, I don’t even have wings.

Barred owl

My hoot isn’t all that realistic either. I borrowed the one Gomer Pyle taught me in my childhood.

https://youtu.be/4FEDst1GVsQ

Still, I captured his attention for a moment. Girl owls, eat your hearts out.

Hooty-hoot and peace, people.

What to Write?

I’d really like to take a nap, but I need to write something today. The question is, “What to write?”

Do I write about our refrigerator and freezer going on the fritz while we were out of town and the subsequent spoilage of all our perishables? Naw. That’s just depressing.

How about the television set developing a weird habit of simply turning off mid-program? No, that’s not interesting. Frustrating, but boring.

I could write about how my hands and arms look like pincushions because Gracie, our new cat, hasn’t yet learned to sheath her claws during playtime. At least she doesn’t bite. Not too often, anyway.

I refuse to write anything political even though politics are on my mind much of the day. One minute I’m hopeful, the next I’m distraught.

Maybe I should say something about someone I love who has tested positive for Covid-19, but I’m trying hard not to worry too much.

Here’s something! Our eldest grandson received notification that the college he has his heart set on attending not only accepted him into the program, but also awarded him a nice scholarship.

Garrett’s Bradley Bound!

Now I can take that nap.

Peace, people!

Helen and Home

Studly Doright and I took a couple of days and drove north through Georgia. We’d planned on going to Dillard, but at the last moment decided to stop in Helen instead.

Helen, GA

“Nestled in the hills of northeast Georgia, lies the German Alpine city of Helen. … The city leaders decided to resurrect their community as a Bavarian alpine town, which became mandated through a change in zoning. Beginning in 1969, Helen adopted a classic south-German style, that today is present on most buildings.”—wanderingtrader.com

Helen is a charming tourist destination with plenty of good restaurants and drinking establishments. There’s a water park and an alpine coaster, carriage rides and lots of little shops. Studly and I walked a bazillion miles exploring the town before checking into a cabin on the banks of the Chattahoochie River. Then we walked a bazillion miles more.

Studly tried on a Peaky Blinders style hat. He wouldn’t buy it even though I thought he looked quite handsome.
The view from our cabin.
My lovely mother-in-law’s name is Helen. We sent her this photo.
Who are those masked folks?
The Chattahoochie gurgles along merrily through the downtown area.

We’d still planned on driving to Dillard to stay Thursday night and drive home on Friday, but the cat sitter related that our new kitty, Gracie, hadn’t made an appearance during his last two visits. We became worried, and returned home on Thursday.

The minute I walked through the door and called her name, Gracie came running, meowing and needing to be held. She’s barely left my side since we got home.

We’ll have other opportunities to visit Dillard, Georgia. Our kitty needed us more right now.

Peace, people!

Drinking Wine from a Paper Cup

I’m in a hotel room somewhere in Georgia. I believe the town is named Milledgeville. Why am I in Milledgeville? Because Studly Doright came home from work this afternoon and said, “Let’s go somewhere that’s not here,” so I called a pet sitter to watch over Gracie and we got into our car and drove north for five hours or so.

COVID messed with all of our vacation plans this year, so Studly had several days he needed to take off before the end of 2020. Hence, the road trip.

Tomorrow we’ll push further north to Dillard, Georgia. He visited there last year on a motorcycle trip with our now deceased, and much loved friend, Jim, and it’s held a special place in his heart ever since.

I packed in a hurry, so there is no telling what essentials I left behind. I packed the wine, though. I never forget the wine.

Peace, people!

Buzzkill

Yesterday I was feeling pretty high after I voted. Happy, happy, happy, and optimistic.

I’d worn blue from top to bottom (even my undies were blue) and once I had that “I Voted” sticker I decided to run some errands.

I was in the checkout line at Walmart, keeping a nice social distance from the folks in front of me when I sensed someone standing right behind me. I moved up a couple of steps. They followed. Finally I turned around and said, “You go in front of me. I feel uncomfortable with you standing so close.”

Then I realized this woman, about my age, didn’t have on a mask. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but sometimes it operates independently of my brain.

“Good grief. You don’t even have on a mask. What is wrong with you?”

“Oh, maybe I have one in my pocket,” she smirked. She actually smirked.

Before I could do anything more stupid, I walked away and miraculously found a register that had just opened. Karma?

The whole thing brought my mood down for a second or two, but dang. What’s up with some people?!

Trying to remember: Peace, people.

Tomorrow, I Vote

For nearly four years I’ve watched Donald J. Trump tromp on our freedoms, embarrass us in front of world leaders, and make a mockery of the democratic process. I’ve listened to him tell one outrageous lie after another—over 20,000 of them, the last I heard.

He’s made me cringe. Caused countless sleepless nights. He’s left me feeling helpless and hopeless, wondering if our country can survive his ignorance, his hateful rhetoric, his self-serving agenda.

With the exception of, perhaps, Andrew Jackson, this country has never had such an ill-prepared, uncouth, morally bankrupt person in the Oval Office. May we never have another.

So, tomorrow, October 19, 2020, I vote. For decency. For experience. For a return to civility. Tomorrow I vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

Peace, people.

Indiana Jones and the Restless Cat

Indiana Jones keeps watch over me every night.

He sits on my bookcase/nightstand, prepared to take on whatever evil comes my way. Except for snakes. He hates snakes.

Last night, though, Indy met a foe for which he was not prepared—a restless cat. I heard Gracie as she investigated the objects on the nightstand. Apparently she didn’t think it was time to go to bed, so first she knocked around an ink pen until it tumbled to the floor, then she tried to squeeze behind the books, causing them to tumble like dominoes.

After I straightened and reinforced the books, I noticed that Indy was in a perilous predicament—heels over head above a cavernous chasm!

How will our hero survive this situation?

It’s not looking good.

Peace, people!