Saturday, December 24, 2022

Just dinking around today in anticipation of more tomorrow


I decided you might enjoy my adventure into retail land when the only option for a postage free Amazon was to take it to Kohl's.

My first effort, while I was out and about doing errands last week was to put "Kohls" into my Prius destination "resource". She found an astonishing abundance of options: the first and closest option was over 1000 miles away.

My next effort began at home where I used the internet to find the Eugene location, which was in Gateway. Groan.  I had bailed on errands early last week as traffic had amped up as holiday hostages barrelled around town fulfilling plans of presents, feasts. decor, and discount antacids. So I decided to wait until Tues. morning, leaving at 8:30 (between likely bursts of start for work traffic) to arrive when it opened at 9 am.

My December Screen Saver

I recalled that I did not recall WHERE in Gateway Kohl's was, so I started at the northwest side and drove around counter clockwise looking my goal...looking for my goal... encouraged by large signs suggesting Kohl's was to be found in this shopping-verse.

And as I did this I amazed at how drastically it had changed since last I went there. I do not recall the year, but it was a long long time ago when I thought the Dude and I should go see a movie the day after Thanksgiving. Clearly, I had paid scant attention to how that day had been hijacked by the pre-holiday (*see note below for spell check fail) hunting/gathering frenzy. The traffic was epic. I have done that TWICE now.

It had been many years since I had even a bad reason to go to Gateway. The beltline access was grander, but the store offerings seemed diminished from a fairly low prior level. Of course Covid had resulted in much brick&mortar (more accurately frame&plaster board) retail store culling. But still, wow! (and not in a good way). 

And here is the delicious chewy center of this tale: in my mind I was comparing my last impression of Valley River Center (also eons ago) to today's Gateway. I had a little chuckle at my myself. These days my memories, or what I think are memories, are a dependable source of suddenly needing to pee.

* Spell check did not recognize pre-holiday, I was offered per-  ore-  pee-  pr-  re-. I am reasonably sure (not researching) that non of these are in Webster's or OED. But if so, please do not enlighten me. Also, amazingly Covid is also not recognized.



Sunday, November 6, 2022

Back from our Canadian working boat adventure (written on Thursday)


To discover a hurting cat, Cleo. She welcomed me warmly (has never held a grudge) and followed me around for scratches and cuddles. But except for the dosed canned food she ate very little. MOST unlike her. Also, I found her hiding in a new spot- in the 4" space under the couch. When not with me this was her new hangout. Not a good sign. In addition, her poor uptake of the dosed food we offer had resulted in compulsive scratching which had been going on before we left.

Here was my calculation: 

Gone 8 days, with 4 cat care visits which she seemed to handle well  - (decreased interest in food/water + explosive snot expelling sneezing fits + hiding) = a miserably itchy unwell cat.

Yesterday I tried for an vet appointment listing my concerns but the next available regular slot would be next month. I was then offered an "emergency" slot. John, still under the weather with a cold was not available to help with the two person herding, grabbing, and boxing of Cleo. So I prepared to do it solo. I was given a 12:45 "appt." and was told that due to her possible contagion we would wait in the car for likely 1-4 hours for the emergency slot to become available. So I gathered lunch, extra blankets, cleaning supplies, my tablet and girded my loins for solo Cleo boxing.

I enticed Cleo out from hiding by playing some music and sitting on the couch next to her two pillow stack soft blanket covered place next to me. When I sit there with TV or music she ALWAYS joins me to cuddle and nap. And thankfully she did. I have never been able to grab sufficient scruff with an adequate grip to pick her up (which John has used enough times that she now fights very little recognizing the futility). So I just stood up and before she could jump down I scooped her up, walked 13 steps to the carry crate and she walked in. Then the unholy yowling and howling began.

I put her in the foot well of the passenger side and covered her crate with her couch blanket. After the standard protest during transport she settled down. Until my battery was too low I used my seat warmer (!) and some cabin heat toward my feet and her box. That worked about 2 hours. We were called in after a 4 hour wait. An assistant took vitals and got her history and were told the Vet would be coming.

Nothing for another hour, so (needing a bathroom) I ventured from solitary and asked about what to expect. I was again informed that I was 3rd in line to be seen, with no estimate for how long the wait might be. I got my tablet, so I could distract myself, and returned to find Cleo under the Formica bench facing the corner of the room.

And we waited: Cleo making no sound, pretending to be invisible, and me trying to find a comfortable negotiation with the awful (but very easily sanitized bench) in the very cool room. Up side here: MUCH better for me than a very warm room!

Someone poked a head in to say that we had not been forgotten. I asked when they closed and was told they would be working until all the appointed and emergency clients were seen. Apparently one time that took until 11 pm. If not yet seen, they would send us home to try again tomorrow. I was not heartened. (I assume it will take more than one night for Cleo to let me put a hand on her again.)

Apparently this is not an actual emergency vet, which I had tried several years ago. I got a very large bill and inadequate intervention which pushed me to find this vet. This was their best stab at offering a "now" service.

At about 7 the vet arrived and made a quick but complete check with a focus on how long she had been off food. That plus the "explosive snot - and excellent name for a rock band" indicated infection. Which needed to be addressed first so she would resume eating. (I was told I MIGHT need to force feed her, which I assume would be followed by brushing her teeth.)

She took Cleo to administer an antibiotic shot, hydration, and take a blood panel to rule out other possible serious concerns for this 11 yo cat. She got a decent grade on the blood work.

We were discharged around 8 pm and had just gotten home when John arrived to see what had happened. I had been remiss in keeping him posted on the nothing that kept on happening and when I finally got home it was in recoup mode when he arrived.

We sat on the couch and much to our amazement Cleo came and cuddled next to me and let us gently love her up. She is difficult to care for, but upsides include never holding a grudge and being so generous with her sweet, soft, purring presence. I remain a cat person to the core.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Friday, October 21, 2022

Homage to Dave Barry

Even funnier than he looks!

I loved his column from Florida which was an alchemy of  his wit and alert readers.

When you sent something to him (which I did twice) you received the kind response:

"This certifies that Mary Miller is an Alert Reader and should seek some kind of treatment immediately."

I too have an alert reader in John. Here is his latest submission under the Heading: Voodoo Accounting? Is this even possible?

"Chintimini Wildlife Center claims to be the only “all-species” wildlife rehabilitation center in the Willamette Valley between Salem and Eugene. CWC says they have suffered a 256% decline in net revenue stemming from a 90% decrease in donations from 2021."

MY alert reader specifically sought my accounting based experience. Sadly (but very fortunately) I have had not a personal experience of calculating those kinds of results for any of my (comparatively fortunate) employers and clients.

So I put on my financial thinking visor and sleeve garters and came up with this response:

In my thought experiment (algebra became unwieldy) this could be explained by these possibilities:

CWC needs a competent financial person who does not mistake net revenue with net profit/loss
CWC needs an honest financial person who is not embezzling and using "creative" accounting
CWC had HUGE grants (which would be another source of funds) last year in proportion to donations, and the grants were not continued or were drastically reduced.
CWC recorded pledged donations last year, and  then subtracted them the following year when they did not appear.
OR (this happened to Alice at Eugene Clinic): her little calculator was dying but bravely kept on "calculating", yielding inexplicable results which seemed wrong to her, which I diagnosed and confirmed.
 

In summary:

The possibility of these two numbers as reported are evidence of something(s) being very wrong.
Stop funding this Trump "charity" immediately.
love, m

 

Upcoming trip

On Sunday Oct. 23rd John and I leave for another trip with Marine Link Tours. This will be John's fourth and my third time going with this great company. Google the above to see their web site.

It's a 5 night boat journey from Campbell River in British Columbia either going north or south from there. John has taken both routes, but it is always different as the stops are based on the deliveries for that journey. They service individuals and companies where no roads reach so supplies must come by water or air. We have seen float planes as taxis and our boat has a large loading dock with a ramp that can be used to drive off, forklift or hand carry cargo to and/or from each landing site. Logging and construction equipment is a frequent passenger, and once we had explosives on board (well, once that we knew of).

The passengers (max 12) in 2 person suites tend toward late middle age and more. Almost always west coast Americans and Canadians, but once I recall a very fun couple from Chicago. Meals are served at two large tables and the food is VERY good. They have a sufficient crew to have a full time cook even during the part of the year (most of winter) when they have no passengers. Likely the demand for transport diminishes in reverse proportion to the inches of rain falling as many of their customers offer fishing based accommodations.

John gets in as much time as possible with the man at the wheel, and brings out other folks' interesting travel and life experiences. On my first trip George W. Bush was our president, and several women passengers offered up unsolicited sympathy for our plight. On my second trip Trump was president. In spite of religion and politics being unacknowledged taboo subjects, I was still showered with sincere sympathy re: America's plight (curse, ill fate, tragedy, self inflicted mayhem etc.). This year they will likely offer commiserations for our current Supreme Court. Being an American abroad just gets funner and funner.

The boat is comfortable, the food varied and very tasty. There is fresh coffee available even when I am the first passenger to creep upstairs while John sleeps away the best part of the morning. This also enables me to get a very cozy nap after lunch when my personal thermostat is at it's nadir.

This is our first trip following a major remodel of the passenger quarters (and perhaps other areas). The passenger deck had a large open area where passengers could congregate for small group interaction. There were women's' and men's bathrooms and shower room. These are now part of each cabin. I did not mind having bathrooms outside our cabin and will miss the gathering place. However, if we got too noisy after dinner, we would disturb the cook who retired early in order to start baking early. And I surely do not want to impair the early coffee, baking of the morning pastry, and the refills to the cookie jar.





Monday, October 17, 2022

Over six (6!) months, actually 200 days have passed


Since last my muse managed to get a silly word in sideways. There has certainly has been Material! (especially considering my loose criteria for content). But life was coming on so fast and furiously that the wave of affronts, inanity, and consuming activities sunk my literary dory.

I may have kept some of you (short or long straw chooser I leave to your discretion) partly apprised of the abandonment of one of my values: owning only one house at a time. Friend Julie's move to a tiny home in Florence prompted my purchase of a travel trailer which I sited on a Greentrees (GT) lot I had purchased from her. This second "home" resulted in an unexpected quantity and variety of needed items and adaptations. In addition to taking up more space on this planet, I made extreme use of my Amazon prime account. This resulted in a treasure trove of reusable boxes which I was curiously loathe share on Craigslist. And a butt load of consumerism guilt. 

John and I made several visits to the trailer devoted to nest feathering (me) and solving  critical and desirable updates and fixes (John). We discovered that to make this spot desirable for more than two nights max, and enjoyable in warm weather, I would "need" a shadier lot and more livable square footage, both inside and out. And within a few months Julie spotted just such a property for sale in GT. It was a single wide mobile home with a good sized outbuilding (future guest quarters) with a full bath, a large open area, and a full laundry. In addition the lot had copious shade on the west and south sides from tall trees, a huge paved back patio (west shaded),  and two covered porches on the east and south sides

Front of Lot 80 (carport on left)
It was a gem. I made an offer sight unseen the day I was alerted. There were good photos that gave me confidence this would be very livable for me, with little needing to be done (unlike the daunting list for the trailer lot). I purchased it fully furnished  (as the couple was selling this, their summer home, and would be also be selling their winter home in Arizona to accommodate a move close to family for needed living assistance) which meant they left everything except their clothes. They started to ask if I wanted this or that friends might want. I encouraged them to off load any and all "decor" items inside and out. I asked only that they dispose of yard and home chemicals. There were also 2 large sheds which were absolutely chock full of yard, garden and patio supplies. These were clues I missed.

I took possession on July 15 and was able to spend 9 nights there during the height of Eugene's summer-crazed sports and festival season. This was a furiously busy visit, as both  buildings had "acres" of drawers and closets which (with the exception of the bedroom closets) were filled to the gills with stuff. Not only did it reduce any list of needed items for bath, kitchen, etc. but it eased my consumer guilt about needing to buy more stuff.

I actually could not move much of my trailer stuff in until I got rid of what was there. I ended up with about eight large boxes of garage sale/ charity/ leave it with a free sign stuff. Also, sad to say, a trash can full of opened pantry items I would not use, piles of old spices, decor too sad to survive, etc, etc. See: my temporary box hoarding(unlike me) turned into a stroke of genius.

My sole disappointment was the with the living room furniture. The "computer" cabinet was useless for my needs and too high for the TV, the sofa was a miserably uncomfortable and difficult to exit torture device, and the huge, ugly recliner chair had a non operable handle for lowering the foot rest of the captive user. Hence I needed to purchase a new couch, a cabinet to hold the TV and a small desk and rolling file cabinet for my computer activities. 

So, I surely overpaid for items that were left, but the delights of this house were worth it. John and I had a few very warm days when the house did not warm past 65 and cooled very nicely at night. There was always available shade outside. One coming expense is to add two awnings to the main building: one over the porch and stairs on the out building side, and one over the large west window in the bedroom. The reason: the coming rain and the fact that when it rained here we heard very little from the roof. And one plus for us with rain is it's cozy sound when your are warm, dry and reading a book or dinking around on the internet. Plus awnings should make it safer to have windows open when it is rainy but desirably temperate.

I am thrilled with my comfortable get-away. Due to Covid and other changes to our society there is no longer a reason for me to have a mobile escape pod (aka motorhome). You can no longer find a place to stay without a reservation and nearly all iffy places (empty lots, wide spots by a highway, etc) have been posted NO CAMPING.  I think it is partly because so many more folks cannot afford a place to live and so they tent, car or RV camp anywhere possible. 

I made a personal choice to not retain the lot with trailer in GT even though it would have been a desperately needed low cost rental option for a senior single or couple. I just did not want the problems of being a landlord. It would have been in high demand. But I made the selfish choice. A friend of Julie's is living in her camper on an improved lot (paved with power and water connections). For $700/mo. I hope it includes internet access!

If you have read (or skimmed) to this point, THANK YOU. I will be blogging very soon, perhaps later this week with some of my trademark silliness.

 

Tuesday, April 19, 2022

Why I havn't blogged in over a month.

While I have experienced the current extreme rate of inanity, venality, hilarity, and  still have sufficient self approval to believe I still have a willing (enough) audience for my take on it all, it is because

I have been both too busy for a retired person and too lazy for any sort of person.

But today, I got a belly laugh at the end of this from the Washington Post:

Opinion from Dana Milbank   April 18, 2022

Why Tucker Carlson wants men to aim lasers at their private parts.

Interesting article with this excellent summary:

I need another red laser treatment.
"Maybe Carlson will encourage his viewers (including one particular Florida resident who favors Big Macs and eschews exercise) to pursue healthier lifestyles. So far, his green lighting of red-light therapy seems to be telling them that what they really need to be true men is more testosterone. And though testosterone supplementation will indeed increase a man’s “manly” aggression, it will also reduce his fertility.

Millions of Tucker Carlson viewers unable to reproduce? Maybe junk science isn’t all bad."

Fun huh?

 



Thursday, March 10, 2022

So much that happened proved to be a dead end and the subsequent events have also been energy demanding/depleting

But I am blogging today in a moment of triumph. And I need to do it quickly before the universe snaps it back. I just completed my 4th (or 5th?) call to the Internet/Cable provider that has a bulk contract with my "Village" in Florence. It is Spectrum which I think is the company's inside joke spelling of: "specter" which Oxford Languages Dictionary defines  noun: specter: a ghost: something widely feared as a possible unpleasant or dangerous occurrence.

Yeah, you nailed it Evil Corporations Hidden Threat Consortium (ECHTC) which voiced sounds like a cat horking up a small hairball. As I cannot ensure when the equipment will be dropped at my never to be used mail box in Greentrees Village, I will need to pick up the equipment at the CLOSEST Specter office, which "conveniently" is in Newport (OR!). I finally managed to get them to agree that the Deed with my name on it and registered with Lane County, should be taken as adequate proof I own said property. Even though they service almost 600 individual customers in Greentrees, they did not like the look of MY particular deed. 

In spite of numerous obstacles, delays, and rain in the Cascades (of near biblical proportions) my new beach house, disguised as a travel trailer, was gently and professionally placed on my lot's "pad'. It is a minimalist pad, and likely eco-friendly as it is two strips of pavement separated by a bark covered slash of naked (unpaved) native North American dirt. And like the glorious end of the biblical rain event,  our endeavor was blessed by ceasing the deluge in Florence.

John took a  photo to commemorate the successful landing while I was focused on something else, hence, I am in the shot. I am not happy about this. But I must acknowledge that this is my corporeal reality and I am definitely a) complicit in it's creation and b) capable of a daily denial of this reality.
 
The other guy in the shot (the one with the man bun) was our driver. This is a travel trailer that will have only one jaunt, and it is already over. True, future events may allow this trailer to do what it was designed to do (decrease mileage of the tow vehicle and annoy fellow travelers en route), but I can absolutely swear on a stack of Math textbooks that it will not be pulled by anything I will ever own or drive, as God is my witness. Also, every element in this photo makes me look short.

And while this angle does not favor me or our very nice and helpful towing guy, it IS the best angle  from which to admire John's not very new Toyota truck (chock full of items to make a trailer a comfy bolt hole).


 
 

 

Monday, February 21, 2022

So much happening I did not have time to post about my usual nothing much

OMG, my last blog was in early January. First my life got busier because a friend had surgery and I had an excuse to be of some service. Which I must admit consisted mainly of visiting her and sharing the hilarity of being us and the perfidy of a local RV dealer who failed Spectacularly to deliver as promised. This threw her long term plan to move to her lot in Greentrees and live a "tiny" life where nearby nature and quiet press in all around. The failure of that anticipated transition shredded plans, set them on fire, and then hid them under her bed. As a benefit to me, I was able to experience the Covid frustrations, delays, shortages and price gouging my simple (lazy) life had not placed in my path, admittedly as I was not trying to go anywhere. 

As she AGAIN researched how to acquire a tiny home that could be (1) delivered to Florence, (2) work with the utility hookups and slab already installed on her lot and yet (3) still not apparently ready for THIS housing solution. She has been meeting life's sling and arrows while I employ my wit, snark, and zaniness to support her efforts. Whew! I am exhausted!

I will spare you the several dead ends, cruel turns of fate, and the ever shifting footing of WHAT EXACTLY a given home will require that her lot doesn't but could provide (for a butt load of more money).

But the sunshine of our lives has peaked out from the clouds in this endeavor. As you may recall, or will shortly know, I have flirted with having an escape plan to get away from the worst of Eugene's summer and the socked in winter (if it isn't going to rain and snow don't imagine that we will be happy with persistent inversions). As a minimalist and Gaia loving person, I try to live as simply as my excessive desire for comfort, beauty, and convenience will allow. Hence, I did not want to replicate the experience of having a full time bolt hole as well as my Eugene home. 

My friend's long nightmare was ended when an ACTUAL tiny home, fully outfitted with decking, abundant covered parking, fenced and landscaped yard in a gated community even quieter and more treed than her lot. Her purchase is on schedule to close this week too!. Of course, she now has her Eugene home to sell, but the best buying season is upon us, and folks still really want to live in Oregon. As she and I discussed her options, and I looked at what might work, a shallowly buried desire broke the pavement of my resolve and shot up a green shoot of possibility. This week I will close on the purchase of my friend's Greentrees lot upon which I will have a 28 foot trailer delivered on March 4th. As has been my experience, I can usually acquire what I want if what I want is available, meets my needs and can be "rationalized" (according to my flexible standards).


Small audience (podcast, blog, whatever) greatly appreciated.

Friday, January 28, 2022

To a poet, silence is an acceptable response, even a flattering one. -Colette, author (28 Jan 1873-1954)

Intermittently I fancy myself a poet, of sorts. Most of my "creations" have been crafted using the Haiku form for structure and forced brevity! But clearly I am neither a confident blogger nor an actual poet. I vividly recall a bit in the hilarious book: "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" about an alien forcing his poetry on anyone available which is universally received as torture. I can take silence (though praise is preferred) but I fear discovering that my products are TORTURE.

I put some of my very amateurish Haiku in my earliest blogs. Be kind to yourself and do not seek them out. I am listening to a book by Laurie King which is in the series about Mary Russell and her husband Sherlock Holmes based on her discovered diaries. (You do know that sentence is mostly fictitious, right?) In the current one she is being introduced to a master Japanese Haiku poet. She is read it in Japanese (which she does not speak) and then in English translation. These do not meter as a three line 5/7/5 syllable poem. Wikipedia has an interesting article on this art form.

This ends the disclaimer portion of this blog.

Here is one inspired by a freeway drive by:

One of my poetry critics.
A frozen pileup 

Glides quietly by my lane

Oh, cars to junk yard!

One about my choice of pet:

I would have a dog

But for handful of warm poop

On forced daily walks.  

And why that is a cat:

Choose your friends wisely

Based on shared delights and needs

Cats want oft-prone maid

 

 


Friday, January 21, 2022

the Holidays cramped my muse

And as my trainer can attest: NOBODY cramps as frequently, aggressively, inappropriately and dangerously to nearby living beings as moi. But the definitive passing of MLK day heralded a capacious horizon of no Federally and/or Oregonlly recognized holidays demanding increased social interactions, shopping and large meal ingestion.

There are a few things I need to share with the world (soon to be known as the Metaverse*). I have recently become informed on the possible meaning and hazy outline of this coming "reality" via my favorite low effort news source: a podcast. And now is the time to share as widely as I am willing to - in other words likely only those who have not YET requested removal from "My little blog" email alerts. So rest assured that when you visit the M-V* you do not risk encountering passionate Luddites such as myself. And if this is the sole "up side" to being dead, at least there will be sweet release from the accelerating degradation of life as I knew it.

But back to me. I turned 70 in December which is a reasonably decent achievement. Of course I have lost some "ground" through the aging process which is how one reaches every birthday. But I am not (yet) one to give an organ recital. Today I only wish to celebrate in blog form the fact that my girls are not yet visibly (I was going to write: falling down on the job, but of course they are) diseased! Also at my annual Medicare covered WELLNESS visit (where a pulse, some blood pressure, any temp above 80℉, and proof of continued coverage is performed) which keeps the SS checks coming. Here I also learned that I am at LOW RISK of osteoporosis. I find that surprising as I was said to be on the cusp for decades. Apparently it is a calculation based on several factors. I guess the fact that none of my prior broken bones (feet and hands) are of great concern, nor it my predilection to "kissing the earth". I did a quick check on line and could find no cause and effect connection between having an excellent sense of humor and protection against osteoporosis.

So! Doing great by Medicare standards. (Note to self: do not share this blog with physicians or Medicare lest they begin to examine my wellness more globally.)