Computer Hell and Wi-Fi

  Today started out to be a normal kind of day. There was a trip to Jefferson City, some grocery shopping, and a few bills to pay.   It was basically my typical Monday.  The only new occurrence happened when I stopped by Kingdom Telephone Company and signed up for Wi-Fi. It has finally reached my neck of the woods...literally.

I originally went in to download some books I had purchased on Amazon over the weekend. I do this all the time. The men who work there recognize me and wave, knowing I do not need help. When I am done I holler "Thank y'all" and leave. Today was different. I downloaded my books, then I saw a sign saying I could get Wi-Fi at my home. It will only be an additional $5.00 a month. I was thrilled.

Immediately I walk up to the desk and tell them what I want. They produce a slip of paper for me to sign. When I am done, the man takes it and asks me for my phone number. I give it to him and wait. He comes back and wants to know whose name the phone is listed in. I tell him Tommy's  and he tells me that Tommy will have to sign and give me "permission" to purchase the Wi-Fi. My mouth fell open. I could not believe my ears. We have been customers of theirs for over 33 years. We have been married almost 43 years. The time for Tommy having to sign or give me permission is so far in the past I can't remember the last time it happened.

The man starts laughing. He realizes how silly this is but it is a policy and has to be followed. He gives me a stamped envelope already addressed and my Wi-Fi.  One problem down, one to go. They have to explain how I hook up this little box. It sounds easy, it looks easy. I leave the store excited---then I arrive home. It was not easy. It should have been but it wasn't.

A black cat ran in front of my car on 'Broken Bridge Road', that should have given me a heads up in what was about to follow. 

When I finally arrived home, I gave the letter to Tommy and told him about my adventure. He looked at me, looked at the letter and said, "I don't want Wi-Fi!" I knew he would say that. I was ready for that remark. "You don't want a phone either but we have one!" He signed, informing me, ' I owe him big time'. Hmmmmm

Hooking the Wi-Fi up was easy, getting the computer to recognize it was impossible. It wouldn't let me on my Google page at all, or any other page for that matter.  It was completely oblivious to my new $5.00 contraption.

 I called KTIS help line. I bet they dread seeing my number pop up. I can just here them now, "You talk to her, I talked to her last week!!  "I don't care I have more seniority than you---take the call!!" A polite young man was forced to take my call....for the next 70 minutes we were in computer Hell!!!

I traveled places in my computer I didn't know existed. He was very patient with me.  Half way through our venture, I was so exasperated I said, "Who thinks up this shit???" It took him by surprise and then he started laughing. His reply was "some college kid"...probably him.  We worked for another 20 minutes, he finally told me he had done all he could do. He gave me a ticket number and told me someone would be in touch within 24 hours.  I imagine he collapsed as soon as he hung up the phone.

After I hung up, I unplugged the WiFi, put it back in the box and reconnected my DSL or whatever the other box is called. I also shut the computer down but did not turn her off.  Honestly, I was afraid to turn her off.  I had a feeling she would never get back up again.  I really wouldn't blame her at all...she has been horribly violated today. 

 

Listening to Him Breathe.....

Six months ago life changed at our  neighbors home. They had been happily married for over 40 years.  Their children were grown, happy and successful. The grandchildren thought their grandparents were funny, loving at times cool and always very 'country'.  Laughter was easy with their family. Friends wandered in and out of their home, stopping to chat and drink coffee and share secrets.

The  change was subtle, most people did not see the difference at first. The wife did. The first thing she noticed was his breathing. When breathing stops being normal, instead becoming a small struggle, it takes on a new meaning. The adult in each partner had to step up to the plate. This was new for the couple. They always lived life like it would never end. They laughed at their reflections in the mirror, always wondering where the body snatchers were hiding. They teased each other about gray hair and glasses. Aging was easy, nothing to fear.

Their home was like the couple who lived in it, old, cranky at times, always in need of repair yet full of memories and love. It smelled of wood smoke and cinnamon, coffee and dogs. If the walls could talk the stories they would share would be amusing. The couple lived the same life but have two completely different versions of their life together. His and Hers like everything else in their life they shared.

He sleeps more now than usual. The doctor says it is the medicine, the couple hope he is right. For the first time in her life the wife listens to each breath. If he sleeps too long she wakes him up with coffee and a kiss, forever her Prince Charming....in camouflage.

At night he falls to sleep first. She listens and remembers, storing every sound in her heart to be replayed at a later date. 

The Lake.....A Writing Prompt From Tami....

Friday night while Tami was trying to study, the kids and I were being loud and evidently making too much noise.  Before I knew it we had 'home work'. Tami gave us a 'writing assignment', asking Jacy and me if we wanted to write our version of her writing prompt.  We jumped at the chance.  Grabbing our pens, and journals we prepared to write our version of her homework. We took this seriously and began writing as fast as thoughts came. My hand writing is horrible.  I slashed through sentences that I did not like. Writing on the side of the paper, across the top and on the back, anywhere I could throw an adjective or a verb.

Jacy had a story to tell. Occasionally she asked how to spell a word. The words she asked about were 'cereal related'. I am anxious to see how she fits these words in her story.  Whatever she chose, she wrote with determination the creation in her mind.


Our writing prompt was: 'Write a 2 or 3 page story about a lake, and a man. The man has just murdered someone, however the story cannot mention this subject'.  Joey, Tami, Jacy and I each wrote a story. Today we exchanged them with Tami. I haven't read Joey's or Jacy's but Tami's writing prompt has the charisma for a really good short story or book.

Here is my writing prompt.  "The moon appeared high in the black sky, casting its reflection onto the lake below.  A slight breeze stirs the cattails and reeds causing a lapping sound, subtle yet steady at the water's edge.  The frogs continued their mating songs. Fireflies appeared momentarily, leaving in the blink of an eye.  A black water snake slithered across the water.  His destination, the reeds on the right side of the lake.

There was a strange smell in the air.  It was a cross between stale lake water and emissions of death. It waned in the breeze but never left the area completely.


A young man staggers down to the water's edge taking in all the night sights and sounds as he kneels down to dip his hands in the water.  Slowly, he gives a regretful, guttural moan. A sound completely at odds with nature's musical.  He washes his dirty hands, splashing his face in the process.  The water ripples around his wrists. Slowly the colors fade from his fingers, leaving a sliver of pink in the water. He watches the ribbon of color dissolve into the lake.

He wonders if he looks any different.  One gaze in the water tells him his reflection remains the same.  He wonders how that can be true. He feels changed.  His mind drifts as he stares at the water. He needs a plan, some direction, anything.

The night is in rare form, oblivious to the man's concerns or needs. The sounds of darkness resume their chorus,  a standing ovation awaits.  Nature is in control for now.  There will be no answers  coming from the lake tonight.   The young man is alone in his madness, and his anger.

All too soon the sun begins to rise. The shadows begin to dissolve in the light. The man continues to sit and stare, at nothing and at everything. If someone had told him 24 hours ago the mess he would be in today, he would have laughed and called them crazy.   For him life changed last night.  He doesn't yet understand the reality of the change. The feeling in his gut gives him a hint of what is to come.  The hint is scary, mind boggling and unreal. With all his heart, he wishes he were dead."

     

Kevin Powers Describes War....

Yesterday I started reading a book entitled "The Yellow Birds". It was written by Kevin Powers, a young Army vet who served in Iraq in 2004-2005.  He was stationed for a time where the fictional story  occurred. 

The author reeled me in beginning with the first page. He uses adjectives and personification to describe the war.  The pictures he paints are vivid, daunting and very hard to forget.War has a name. It is found somewhere between Boredom and Hell.

 When he describes the lay of the land, the way the Tigris River smells, the looks in the eyes of young soldiers barely old enough to shave, fighting and dying, I can see it all.  He does an excellent job describing a life I have never experienced up close and personal.

 I could not put the book down for any length of time.  Now that I am through with the book, part of me wishes I had never read it. Murphy and John are etched in my psyche, right  along with Mr. Brooks, Scarlett O'Hara, and Boo Radley. 

There were no heroes in "The Yellow Birds".  There were lives destroyed by what soldiers saw, what they did, and what happened to them.  None of the characters remained unscathed from war. The ones who made it, left a good portion of themselves, of the young men they used to be in Iraq. Entering the 'world' again was something they forgot how to do. They did not belong in a trivial society and had no desire to return to war.  They were too damaged to do either.  The main thing they desired was to be left alone, they never wanted to see a desert again.  Horizons were no longer beautiful. They needed to avoid contact with people if at all possible. It was better to be alone than to be surrounded by people who  knew nothing of life and death in a war zone.  The young soldiers were glad the  'world' didn't have their memories. They needed space to let their ghosts walk and talk freely. It would be the only way some of them could heal.

Today on the news I watched as Israel and Hamas moved closer and closer to war. I watched missiles hit Jerusalem for the first time in years. The Middle East is on the verge of all out war. It could explode at any minute. There is no rest in that part of the world. There never has been. There never will be.

The world is in a sad state of affairs. I pray for a peace that will not come easily if at all. I thank Kevin Powers for writing a book that can stir me to my core. I pray "The Yellow Birds" always remains a piece of fiction, although in my heart I believe there is a thread of truth running through the book from beginning to end. I believe every war has its share of 'Murphy's and of John's.









  

Jacy Honors Tommy on Veterans Day.....

I love the small town of Centralia. It is the most kid friendly and child oriented town I have ever seen. I am thankful my grandchildren live in Centralia. They are getting a good education while being taught a love for their country and  a sense of honor for the men and women who help keep America free. 

Last Friday, our granddaughter Jacy honored Tommy on Veterans Day. It was an event I hope I never forget.  Ms. Kelly Dickerson was in charge of the "Old Glory Project." Together with many workers and a ton of fifth graders, they saluted the military both past and present. When the program was over, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

The program began with the Presentation of the Colors, followed by the Pledge of Allegiance and the National Anthem.  Poems were recited by students.  The military families were recognized. Then the flags were presented to the honorees. Each flag is unique and one of a kind, because the child who made the flag wrote their own message to their veteran.  Jacy  wrote,

                                      Freedom

"Freedom means we can go to the park whenever we want to .  It means we can go to a restaurant when we want to.  It means we can pick who we will marry.  It means we can vote who we want to be President. Thank you Papa..."

Very true darlin'. The flag now hangs by Tommy's chair in our living room. Soon it will be surrounded by pictures of our own military family. 

The 3rd graders, Logan's group, led us in singing "God Bless America".  It was a very moving, emotional and proud day. We felt blessed to attend. The only regret I had was that I did not attend when Tami was honored last year. I can't remember why we didn't go.  We had a good reason however, there are some things in life you only get to do once.  Last year we missed our chance to share in Tami's military honor, for that I will always  have a regret.  

                                      
                           

Never Mess With a Pregnant Squirrel....

  We have a small war going on in our garage. The enemy is a band of squirrels. It all started with missing dog food.  We normally keep our dog food in a 30 gallon black plastic garbage can with a lid. We have used this can for years without any problem.  That was before the squirrels found it and decided that Kibbles and Bits was their new favorite food.  At $25 a bag, the squirrels are going to have to find something else to eat. They do not want to change their diet. That is why war has been declared. The squirrels fired first.

About 3 weeks ago, I went out to feed the dogs and found the top of the dog food container had a hole chewed in it about four inches in width.  There were plastic shavings all around the can.  I heard something move in the back of the garage.  It was a thump followed by a box falling to the floor. I jumped like I had been shot and made a mad dash to the house, only to turn around and slink back to the garage because I still needed to feed the dogs.  Humiliating to say the least.

This went on for about a week. I moved the dog food. They found it.  I taped the hole with enough tape to make an amputee a new limb. They chewed through it in one night. I changed cans and whatever it was,  ate through the new can lid like it was icing on a cake.  I also found a smaller hole on the side of the container where a short varmint gnawed through the plastic.  The dog food was decreasing daily.  I was sure it was a raccoon.  I was hoping it wasn't rabid.  With this thought in mind, the next time I went to the garage, I armed myself with a big stick  and Tommy.

We transferred the remaining dog food into a metal can with a metal lid. We also placed another 30 pounds of dog food inside. Tommy began to search for the intruder. My rabid raccoon turned out to be a family of squirrels. 

We know there are at least 3 culprits and one of them is miserably, no doubt about it,  pregnant.  Today we watched the whole crew in action, except for the pregnant squirrel.  She came out and sat down on a ladder step and looked at us.  Her little belly was round and protruding on both sides.  She was sitting upright with her front legs crossed on her belly. The only thing she didn't do was tap her foot. She looked us in the eye and did not blink. It was almost like she was saying, "Go on shoot! What are you going to do with me?? I am pregnant, I live in a tree and I eat dog food! So what are your plans for me?  I am miserable and shooting me couldn't hurt anymore than the way my back feels right now! So either shoot me or leave me alone!!"   I remember that feeling and I recognize the ' look.' We left her alone.

 We watched two of the squirrels play with reckless abandon for about 30 minutes.  They flaunted the fact they were in the garage and we were in the house. They climbed on everything in sight. Jumped up to the rafters, raced across railings and scampered in and out of flower pots. Needless to say, the squirrels were very entertaining while pushing their luck to the limit.

I don't know exactly what we are going to do with these critters. We could shoot them but now it seems like we 'know them'.  And I am uncomfortable with killing them.  However they are the same bunch that ate my tomatoes, my flowers and my prized hostas.  On the flip side,  I think we ate two of their family members this summer.  They were delicious.  We fried them, serving them with biscuits and gravy. Touche'.

How will this end?  I have no clue. All I know for sure is that I don't want anything to happen to them right now.  I want to see where she has the babies, how many there are and maybe photograph them. When I told Tommy this, he groaned. I think he knows where this is going. As I have said many times, 'it doesn't take much to make me happy' or to piss me off. I am not sure yet which category fits the squirrels best.  I think I will let it play out and see what happens. 

                                                         They have armed themselves---
                                                             this is War....
                                       


       

3 a.m. Thoughts

When I woke up at 3 a.m. this morning, I had no clue why I was awake, other than to write a blog.  I knew there was a story to be told. I just didn't know what story.

Several blogs were going through my mind, however they never materialized. I jotted down a few notes to use at a later date in  case the story decides to be told.

I read a few of my favorite blogs.  Joined a group of like minded writers, mostly I just wandered around the Internet with no particular goal in mind, picking up a few snippets here and there.

After two cups of pumpkin flavored coffee and a trip to 'Snoops',  I found my story.

It was hiding in plain sight on the "Writers Platform" website. There was a picture of a young World War 11 veteran, then and now.  His name is Dennis Wilson. He is 91 years old and a 'war poet'. Sixty eight  years after D-Day he finally had his journal of poems published. Poems he wrote later in the day, after fighting in battles and witnessing truths unkind to his mind. Truths that seldom leave for any length of time.  Truths that can occur in the midst of Christmas dinner or when alone while fishing.

The poem I read was entitled "Aftermath".  The author speaks from his heart,  feelings of a young husband and father thousands of miles away from any semblance of his former life.

Mr. Wilson does not glorify war or embellish his actions during war. He speaks with quiet discord the horrors of war on young men, women and children. He talks of killing the enemy in a "kill or be killed" automatic mode. He gives his insight on being in battle and watching his fellow soldiers being killed and thinking to himself with relief----it wasn't him. Relief was followed closely by guilt.

One poem, one man, many wars before him and after his wartime service. He speaks of a peace that most of the world longs for but seldom can grasp for any length of time.

Today, our granddaughter Jacy honors Tommy at her school for his service in the military. We are very proud of him.  I believe each man and woman who has served their country honorably needs to be thanked, honored and remembered. They took liberty one step further than most of us ever will.

I will write another blog about this event today. It is already forming in the outskirts of my mind. I will also order Dennis Wilson's book, "Elegy of a Common Soldier".  There are some things that need to be remembered and passed along to the next generation. I think his thoughts might be one of them. 

I Think I May be in Trouble....Again

Jury duty is an Americans civic duty.  It is a privilege we have to be tried before a group of our peers.  It beats being shot in the parking lot behind the court house by a throw of the dice. It is constitutional. It is the law, it is the right thing to do and I hate it. 

 I know I am wrong to feel this way. I probably should be ashamed, but I am not. It just is what it is and I do not want to be a part of it. However, this does not change one thing.  Every so often, I receive a summons in the mail for 2 weeks of jury duty.

The first time I received a summons, I threw it away.  Within a few days I received another letter informing me I could be held in contempt of court, subject to a $500 fine and possibly jail time, if I did not respond to my summons.  Needless to say, the next morning Tommy and I were at the court house. I explained to the bailiff the reason I could not participate was because we had bought our airlines tickets to Florida the week I was scheduled to be in court. They were non refundable.  She excused me. Smiled and said, "No problem, we will notify you later."  Sure enough when I got back from Florida, I had jury duty to serve for the next two weeks.

We had a trial, unhappily, I reported to the court house. I went with every intention of  NOT serving. As soon as the prosecutor started asking the jury questions, I listened waiting for my cue to decline.  I knew I couldn't lie, so I had to make sure I understood where my loophole happened to be.  I had no loophole.  None until the prosecutor asked if any of us felt like they could not give a guilty verdict.  I raided my hand and said, "I would want it proved beyond a shadow of a doubt before I could say guilty I mean really, really prove it to me."  The prosecutor  wanted to know if I could give a guilty verdict if it was 'really, really, proved to me.' Begrudgingly, I said 'yes.'  I was the first person he picked.  Note to self....be quiet in the courtroom.

Everything went fine until the jury was given the case.  After the bailiff took us to our room to deliberate the case,  he took our cell phones, locking the door as he left. Then all hell broke loose. I have never seen such mean people and I was one of them!

It was not pretty by any means. Fair but not pretty. A few weeks ago, I received another summons for jury duty. I set the notice by my recliner so I would not forget about it. Today, I remembered. Unfortunately, I have already missed the first week of jury duty. I forgot about it and did not call in for the first week at all. They frown on that. When I called today, the recording said there were no trials for Monday.  Good!! Hopefully, there were no trials for last week either. Tommy thinks I am ok.  Jody thinks I am going to jail.  

All I know for sure is that Tuesday is Election Day and I can't serve that day either, I have to vote and watch Fox News.  Hopefully, I will not be watching it from jail.