Danger, Will Robinson!

When I was a little girl we only shopped at two department stores. My father called them Monkey Wards and Sears and Roarbucks and of course, we laughed at his joke.

During the first week of November I had to head up to the city to do some babysitting as both parents had to do some business travel...in opposite directions, of course. During the two days that I was there and after dropping children off at their respective schools, I decided to take advantage of being near the large malls and get started on my holiday shopping. I tend to forget that traffic problems begin this early.

Well, I would like to caution others that may have this same plan. First, do not shop at Sears. It has not changed. There is no help, only one register with long lines (even in the middle of the week), and staff that speak limited English and always seem to be learning how to use the register for the first time. After spending many minutes waiting in line to pay for my purchase I was then rewarded for my patience by having the alarm go off as I left the store with a loud voice blaring that the security tag MUST be removed. I walked all the way back across the store to the ONLY open register and was told that the security tag was "probably" inside the box and to just ignore the alarm. I cannot tell you how hard it was to 'steal 'myself to leave the store a second time while a very loud robotic voice demanded that I return to the store!

The second shopping warning is to let you know that sales people in both the chain stores and the kiosks in the mall have been given strict instructions to part you from your money using any sales pitch they can find. Clearly this recession has convinced them that they will be closing shop if this holiday season does not turn a substantial profit. The recession is hovering darkly over the retail industry. These staff are the managers who hope to be working there in January as temporary staff have not yet been hired. If you ask for assistance they will answer your question or direct you to the correct area, but then will proceed to convince you to buy at least three of the item due to the huge discounts and sales. If you explain you really only want one, they will then direct you to their other sales specials, their newest products, etc. etc. and it will take some very polite determination to get out of the store with your wallet and sense of humor intact. I actually had to pull my hand away from a young Israeli man who insisted his product would make my hand 20 years younger!

(The blog title is for those who can remember 1960's science fiction TV.)

Just Teasing

Today was the oddest day. It started out in the 50s (F) and then climbed to the 60's. A batch of orange robins had flown in the night before and blended perfectly with all the orange brown leaves that I had not raked or blown away. We do not have robins here during the summer months, so I knew they were on their way to Florida. I got started on the yard at mid-morning and was enjoying watching roils of leaves tumble into the woods revealing the spring green grass beneath. I cleared the patio and the deck and stored that nutrition in the compost bin. Then I began to clip away those perennials that had gone brown.

When I went to put away the rake and leaf blower I was met by a couple of sulphur butterflies and one bright orange and brown butterfly enjoying the last of the lavender flowers. I hadn't seen butterflies for more than a week, so it was a surprise to watch these dancing across my herb bed.

Later after I had picked some green tomatoes and arugula and several of the hot peppers and the last of the roses for my table, I noticed a number of small flying insects filling the air like little fluff machines. One landed in my hair and I discovered that it was a lady bug. They were everywhere looking for food. One even made it into the house that afternoon.

I was just beginning to wonder what had happened to fall when the sun started to set and the most lovely haze hung on the golden horizon making me think that I was back in Asia where the cooking fires created a smokey haze at the end of the day. It smelled dusty and musty and reminded me of the dry season in Indonesia. It was so much like summer and such a tease that I made my way down to the dock barefoot. Anyday that I do not have to wear shoes is a GOOD day. I was almost ready to believe that winter was not hiding somewhere up North.

The Last Roses

The last roses of summer. They are like gentle and fragile old ladies with lace collars and fancy fans that smell gently of soap and sweet bath powder. They are high maintenance because they know they are beautiful and popular. Their heads hand low from fall rains. They are lovely even as they fade. I miss that they must hurry off, but their cruise ship is waiting. Late in November, while I will sit by the fire trying to warm my toes, they will be having tea and ginger cookies along the warm equatorial waters somewhere. They promise that they will send their favorite nieces and they will arrive in sweet pale dresses in the spring and if I show them love, they will stay for a long visit in the rose garden next summer.

The little gal has what is called rose bloom balling due to the cooler weather followed by days of rains. It still looks lovely even though it will never open. I have to move many of my roses this spring as they are in one of the side beds that gets way too little sun. Living in a forest is deceptive. Roses are greedy for sun and I am lucky that I have not gotten any serious fungal outbreaks this year. Come spring I will begin the spraying as these are the only plants where I use pesticide and fungicide for prevention.

In the Mail Thursday Thoughts #25

About eight months ago I started to receive in the mail a billing notice from a collections agency regarding $113 that they say I still owe from the time I rented an apartment in 2005 through the summer of 2007. About two months after I checked out of that place I sent them that amount as they had raised the rent that month and I forgot to include the increase in my last month's payment. I do not have access to that bank account as it was closed and so do not know the exact number of the check sent. I have called the leasing office and the accounts receivable office and left at least 6 messages with no return to my calls. I even drove up there several months ago and met with the accounts manager who said my account appeared paid in full but they were re-doing the books and that they would get back to me. This "unpaid debt" now sits on my credit reports as an unresolved issue and no one returns my calls.

At my local post office there are several large blue recycle bins in the lobby. These are used by 80% of patrons to immediately dump without reading all those ads from various stores. The rest of the patrons are too stupid or too lazy and just leave their mail detritus on the window sill or the floor. These paper products for landfills is what is keeping the Post Office afloat. I would even accept this junk by email if they agreed to stop printing it on paper.

I subscribe to a newsletter "Consumer Reports: On Health." I have found it interesting for the most part, except the October issue had this brief paragraph: "Hugging Laundry. Dirty sheets, towels, and clothes can harbor bacteria and other germs, so use a basket---not your arms---to gather and transport laundry. And wash your hands after loading it into the machine." ??? While this might be good advice for those who are hired to do other's laundry, I think we are getting a little too germicidal in our lives...how in the heck do I get the laundry into the basket and out of the basket...rubber gloves? Does this mean I shouldn't hug those who wore the clothes?

I must be richer than I know on my fixed income. I also got a card in the same mail telling me I was pre-qualified to receive the exclusive Visa Black Card. (It appears that silver, gold and platinum have peaked in swankness.) If I get the Visa Black Card I am assured the highest caliber of personal service and concierge services. This card is limited to 1% of U.S. residents (how exclusive is that?), and they say it is guaranteed to get me noticed! No duh, so does a really bad hair day. Since it has an annual fee of $495 ($195 for each additional user) and an APR of 13.24% I guess I will pass. Swankness has its price and its level of stupidity.

Unfortunately, what I rarely get in the mail is letters.

( This post was written before the tragedy at Ft. Hood yesterday. More troops suffering from being exposed to trauma and tragedy will be coming home and resolving their issues by using either violence or suicide. War is a nasty disease.)

Century recycling

Above is a photo of something we use every year to hold the fall leaves and to transport to the compost bin. It is a tattered parachute. Hubby got it from some surplus store about a century ago and, while spotted with various paints and stains from our housekeeping life, it still holds strong and true to carry our leaves.

This photo is some of the oak wood we had split to use to warm ourselves this winter. I think this tree grew about a century ago before it was removed to build this house. Most of the wood that we split now is from deadfall and the disease scars are revealed in the heartwood. Seeing such lovely grainwood as above is rare and you can see the war it declared with the chainsaw.

Fine, Just Fine, Thanks

The sun is getting cooler every day, you know? I mean, over the long term, it is burning out. The spin of the earth is slowing down by about one second every ten years as well. So much for the old phrase, "Stop the world, I want to get off." Perhaps someday it will stop and you will fall off. There are times when I get overwhelmed by the fact that everything is evolving slowly but dramatically over time. The history that I know is very different from the history that my grandchildren will know. The picture that I paint is coded with time. I now realize that I have actually lived through history.

I hate the passage of time when I think how I am away from my son and my youngest brother, both very different in age and activities but similar in some ways. I know that you must love someone with open arms so that they can fly free. You must let them go but leave your arms open so that you can catch them if they fall. Both my youngest brother and my son need to be free. They fill their days with the busyness of living. I will always be here with my arms open, but the earth is spinning so fast that I can barely see them at times and I know they are not looking for me. They are staring at another planet.

Today I feel much smaller than that grain of sand because after I disappear, it will still be here.

Feeling Fallow Fall

This is the view toward the deer gate. I can almost see my driveway disappearing beneath the forest leaves. Will I be able to find my way out by next week? So much work!

Tonight, as I watched the sun go down from my living room, I prepared a lovely mushroom ravioli with homemade tomato/basil /green pepper sauce with the last of the vegetables harvested from the garden. I am home alone, so forcing myself to actually prepare a healthy and fresh meal was not easy. (I could have had microwaved popcorn.) I washed these healthy antioxidants down with a nice Sangiovese that I had purchased at my recent visit to the Biltmore estate. I am alone and so adjusting to enjoying good food by myself is taking some effort. I removed the small bag of frozen peach pie filling made months ago and after thawing added to a pie crust and sliced a fresh apple on top, added more cinnamon and sprinkled some granola cereal on top of it all. It turned out delicious with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Here is the back yard that I need to either rake or blow. It was clean just days ago, so I am being somewhat lazy and putting this off. It is a contest with the trees. They still have lots of leaves. They throw them down in the wind like yellow flakes of gold, as if they were gentlemen throwing down their yellow gloves as if in a challenge to duel. But then, when I look up, the trees still have more wealth to share. I will never win this duel.

The sex-crazed squirrels spend all their time chattering and laughing at my confusion.

Happy Halloween

I heard the screech of the famous pileated woodpecker and then he turned into a spook for Halloween. You may have to click on the image for the full effect. (One of these days I am going to get a decent photo of one of the pair that live here!)

Look here for some interesting Halloween Art. (WARNING: some of the other graphics aren't so PG.)