thisendoftheswamp

My faithful readers remember the battles we’ve had with Comcast over the land line. They claim we can’t have it because if we called 911, the emergency vehicles would come to the wrong place. Everything I’ve ever had occasion to call 911, they always ask for the address. Let’s face it, if the place is on fire, I can find the desk phone a lot more quickly than I can stumble around trying to find my cell phone. The really weird thing is that we can still make out-going calls and if you have a 679 exchange, you can still call us on the landline.

Back when Eldest Daughter brought her poppa a new Smart Phone, I was bullied into taking his old one. I still prefer to use my ancient flip phone for any number of reasons. For one, I can open it and use it. I don’t have to fiddle around unlocking it – it is always ready. But the new one has some really neat games, and Eldest Daughter added the Yuka app, which is wonderful. If you’ve never heard of this app, it allows you to scan the bar code of most foods and many cosmetics, and it will show you what’s good and bad about the product. If something has too much salt but is high in protein you can decide for yourself if you want to eat it. Some stuff – positioned as “healthy” – is anything but. OK, I never expected a candy bar to be good for me, but that energy bar I grabbed at the health food store ought to rate higher on the scale than it did.

So – back to my story. I lost the hand-me-down Smart Phone. I honestly lost it. I didn’t put it down someplace, walk off and leave it or drop it in the offering plate at church. I lost it. Didn’t bother me one bit, but both The Squire and Eldest Daughter were upset. She sent me a new phone. It is small and seems flimsy to me, and I like it even less. The Squire bought a case for it, which outweighs the phone by about six to one. It has a coin pocket, slots for cards – and a strap. I can’t carry my hairbrush or my little flashlight or . . . so I stick it in my purse.

Both The Squire and Eldest Daughter are really pressuring me to use a phone I simply do not like, and it bugs me no end.

Now, quite often the new phone won’t talk to The Squire’s phone, so I have to use my old flip-phone anyway. I can hear him talking, but he can’t hear me. If I have it on me, I just dig around and find it so I can call him back, but a few days ago we had a bit of a set-to. I had to run into a store for something simple which only took a few minutes. Normally, he parks the car where I can see him and waits for me to come back out. This time he couldn’t find a parking space so he was parked “out in left field” and I couldn’t find him. I pulled out my phone and dialed. We did the old “Hello, hello, can you hear me” routine. I tried again with the same results, so it was back to the flip phone. As far as I know, he ONLY has this problem when I call him, so he had to know it was me. And he had was -presumably – waiting to pick me up. If I’m calling and he’s waiting for me, why didn’t he just come get me?

To quote my oldest and dearest friend, I must love him. I didn’t kill him.

Borsi is fascinated with ice cubes, especially those in a glass, a fact which we sometimes forget, much to our dismay.

This evening The Squire and I were working a jigsaw puzzle when I heard a distinctive “thunk”. We had not put our half-empty drinking glasses in the dishwasher after supper, and Boris had decided to investigate. He’d pulled one glass over and was busily pawing that the second one when I pounced on him. Water all over the table and on the dining room rug.

Oh, joy.

The entire condo is carpeted with wall-to-wall beige pile. I don’t know whose idea this was – probably some man’s – but it is the devil’s own to keep clean. We took the Karastan out of one of the bedrooms and put it in the dining room here, but the amount of water Boris had dumped soaked through and got both the rug and the carpet wet.

We had to get out the carpet scrubber to draw as much water as possible out of rug and then had to lift the rug off the carpet and drape it over the table and two chairs.

OY!