Archive | February, 2020

Lost and Found

21 Feb

It was 21º – F this morning, and even by my standards, that is darned cold. The Squire decided to wear a coat when he left for the gym, and when he put it on he discovered the pockets were full of “stuff”. Brown paper napkins from a restaurant and a fistful of candy.

When I reminded him that  don’t wear his clothes, he muttered “Well, somebody has been”.  And then the light dawned.

“Oh, no! This isn’t my coat!”

We made a quick rundown of the places he’s been recently – a funeral and to church, and that’s about it, and he didn’t bother with a coat the day of the funeral. He’ll send out a shotgun email to the parish and see if he can return it to the proper person.  If not, it’s a really nice coat.

No Good Deed . . .

9 Feb

The Squire has a Galaxy  S-4 that Eldest Daughter gave him several years ago to bring him into the Smart Phone age. Recently, she found a newer phone – an S-6 – and offered it to her dad. They spent an hour doing what she called a “Smart Swap”, automatically switching all of his info – pictures, contacts, apps, etc. – from the older model to the newer one.

When we got home he discovered the new phone wouldn’t work so he called Eldest Daughter to ask her advice. She checked on-line and discovered that the service did not show it had been changed from one phone to the other, and suggested he call Verizon to see what was up.  The upshot of this three hour marathon is that the S-6 is too old to be activated. And, because the tech at Verizon had deactivated the S-4 in the middle of this mess, it is even older and cannot be reactivated.  The Squire now has two Smart Phones, neither of which work.

Me? I’m sticking with my trusty, dusty flip phone from Target.

A Week’s Work . . .

7 Feb

. . .in one morning.

I had to take the cat to the vet yesterday, and Eddie wasn’t having any of it, thank you very much.

First off, it took me for-bloody-ever to get him into a carrier. Any carrier. He howled and clawed and carried on over the first two, so I had to find keys and boots to get the largest one out of the barn. That bad boy is big enough that our great-grandkids could set up a playhouse in there. While I am trying to wrestle with the cat, the dog is bouncing around, getting under my feet and “talking” up a storm. “What is she doing to you, Eddie? Are you OK?”

“Momma, watch out! Eddie’s mad!”

In the chaos Eddie jumped onto the dining room table and knocked over a glass of juice, so everything was on hold until I got that mopped up before it ran on to the carpet.  Once I managed to jam the cat into the carrier, I had to get out the door. Eddie weighs fifteen pounds and I’d wager the carrier is at least that heavy. And it is HUGE.  (I think it might be the one we had for Brinks, our beloved pit-boxer mix.)

It took me so long to get through the door that I set off the alarm, and then I discovered I’d left my keys on the counter. Dash around to get the house key – a two step job, as the actual key is located elsewhere – and of course, by the time I unlocked the door, the alarm company was on the phone, about ten seconds away from calling the cops.

And I still managed to get to the vet’s on time!