Almost an Emergency

For Christmas I got a new iPhone. It’s pretty badass with its facial recognition and fancy camera capabilities. And once I figured out all the stuff that worked differently from my old iPhone, I was definitely pleased. It did do something yesterday that totally caught me off guard, though.

I was walking across a parking lot in Tallahassee on my way to get my hair cut. No sooner had I shoved my phone into my purse than I heard an alarm similar to the sound of a car alarm. It was pretty strident, and at first I thought it was coming from one of the cars on either side of me. Then I realized the sound was emanating from my purse.

I grabbed my phone and realized that somehow I’d activated a 9-1-1 call! The screen was doing a countdown to notify my emergency contacts. Quickly I shut off the call and stopped the countdown. Whew! That could’ve been awkward.

After checking in at the front desk inside the salon I sat in the waiting area and tried to figure out what I’d done to trigger the emergency call. As I was poking about trying to make sure I didn’t inadvertently do it again my phone rang.

In response to my “hello?”, the guy on the other end said, “We received a 9-1-1 call that was cancelled from this number. Is everything okay?”

I apologized, told him I was fine and that it was a total accident. I thanked him for checking on me.

Even though I screwed up it’s kind of nice to know that somebody out there’s looking out for me. I still need to figure out what precipitated the call, though. Any ideas?

Peace, people!

Phone Me

For Christmas Studly Doright bought me a new iPhone. According to him it’s the biggest, baddest iPhone available. I’m properly humbled and intimidated.

In my typically stubborn way I dove into setting up the new phone, heedless of Studly’s advice to let someone at the Verizon store assist me. “They said it’ll be easy!” Studly assured me. “Just switch out the memory cards and you’re good to go.”

It was not easy. I’ve lost all my contacts and have had to download all of my apps and remember the passwords and try to recall user names until I’m ready to scream. Plus, the navigation between pages is totally different. And all my contacts are screwed up. Argh!

It literally took me an hour to figure out how to get from the home page to my app icons. If you don’t hear from me again, it’s because I’ve been admitted to a psych ward–preferably one where no electronic devices are allowed.

Peace on earth and all that jazz.

Tuesday Tech Miscellany

Yesterday (Monday) I wrestled with my internet connection all day long. Studly was traveling, and I didn’t want to exacerbate the technical issues by doing something stupid in his absence. Instead, I was mostly tech free all day, and it was kind of nice.

My understanding of WiFi and connectivity and the million other little things that go into making my devices communicate smoothly is limited. I know that some of the little lights on my home router need to be flashing while others need to remain constant, but beyond that I’m lost. Thank goodness Studly Doright arrived home in time last evening to tell me how to fix the problem. (Basically I had to unplug the router, count to five, and plug it back in.) My hero!

Speaking of being lost, one of the things I like best about my Apple Watch is the gps feature. When I ask Siri for directions to a location, my watch will sync up and provide brief instructions as well as a pleasant buzz on my wrist as I approach a turn.

For some reason, though, on Saturday´┐╝ the watch lost its ability to guide me. I was heading to an estate sale using iPhone guidance and kept driving mile after mile waiting for the friendly buzz to indicate I needed to turn. Finally, I pulled into a parking lot and realized the watch wasn’t doing it’s part, and I was stuck with just the phone instructions. Plus, I was way north of Tallahassee. Not lost, but not where I needed to be either.

When I returned home I googled possible remedies to the situation, but none of them bore fruit. I figured I’d need to seek out some technical assistance at a local tech shop. Then this morning I noticed the little airplane icon on my watch. Hmmm. Had I accidentally switched it to airplane mode?

Why, yes. Yes, I had, and as soon as I figured out how to take it out of airplane mode the gps was back in business. I literally just asked Siri for directions to Trader Joe’s and my watch responded with a turn suggestion. It’s a bit confusing since I’m still inside my home, but still, I’m back in business.

Now, at the risk of making myself seem even more foolish, my car has a gps built in. Yes, I could, and often do, use it for directions. But it doesn’t buzz on my arm. I like the buzz.

No, not that Buzz; although, the wallpaper on my Apple Watch can be set to Toy Story.

To infinity and beyond! Or to Trader Joe’s. Whichever is closest.

Peace, people.

Art or Nart

I had tons of time to come up with a blog post yesterday, but zero ideas. While I was watching Ellen Degeneres’s new show “Game of Games” I played with the doodle option on my iPhone instead of preparing something for this venue. So this is all you’re getting this morning.

I call this, “Art or Nart”

Playing Hole #5 on a Blustery Winter Day in Florida:

The Emperor Reimagined:

Beach Day:

Hello from the Other Side, Kandinsky:

I’m hanging on to these pieces of art. If I become famous one day perhaps they’ll be worth a fortune. Or nart.

Peace, people.

Woman Before A Mirror

Picasso’s “Girl Before a Mirror”

one of the kardashians, kanye’s wife,
kim, published a coffee table book around her favorite

of pictures of kim, provocative, poised,
playful, compiled for public perusal,
appropriately titled

i did not
purchase this book; however, i wonder
if it could be used as a template for my own book of

so far, of
the twelve selfies in my iphone, only
two do not render my visage as a distorted picasso

much work remains.


From Kim Kardashian’s book, “Selfies.”
The author, giving a sneak preview of her book of selfies.

Peace, people! 

Copyright 2016. All rights reserved by Leslie Noyes.

Note: I have no connection at all to Picasso, nor to Kim Kardashian, never have been or intend to make any monies or free lunches on the back of this post, and to my knowledge was never a model for Picasso or for Kim.


I have a gift when it comes to giving out too much information, a.k.a. TMI. My brain is hollering, “For the love of God, STOP!” while my mouth keeps spouting all the details of my life that are better left untouched, unknown, and uncovered.


In the good and/or bad old days if one gave out TMI it often wasn’t a big deal, unless one happened to be in front of a television audience. The TMI didn’t travel far or for any distance. However, today’s social media makes sharing TMI much too easy and in some ways dangerous. 

Take yesterday, for example. My 10-year-old grandaughter started a pet care service. She created a professional looking sign, made copies, and posted them all around her small town Illinois neighborhood. I immediately copied the photo and posted it on my Facebook page. Thank goodness my youngest brother pointed out that it might not be wise to post the phone number of a preteen girl on Facebook, and I promptly deleted it.

Usually, though, my tendency is to provide entirely too much information about myself. Case in point, I typed this post on my iPhone. In the john. Would someone fetch me some t.p.? TMI?

Peace, people!

Weather Vain

I’m standing in

My closet

Trying to

Decide what to


I have not

Checked the


I go to do so

On my


But I notice

There are unread

Notifications on

WordPress, and

Facebook, and


After reading one

Particular post I

Realize I must

Google the population of

Guatemala before I

Forget so I can

Update a future

Article, and then

I go back to the

Bedroom closet to

Dress for the


That’s when I

Realize I still

Must check the


On my


Repeat as necessary

Until dressed.