Who said organizing was easy . . .

We had to move the computer desk temporarily. It was in the path of an air conditioner repair person.

In moving the long-standing accumulation, I winnowed through it and made some discoveries. The reading glasses (which I used only to read miniscule [4-6 point] type or blue-on-white lettering) were found. I didn't miss them much but was annoyed with myself over misplacing them. They had dropped between the side of the desk and the printer table.

I finally threw out the last cardboard container of stuff from when I retired. I haven't yet thrown out the CD which contains the procedures I originated while I was working. It has a sentimental value which has something to do with nostalgia. Haven't quite figured out why. When I do, I will probably cut 'er up and discard the pieces.

The surface of the desk should be easier to keep free from dust now that the laptop and docking station are the major occupants. Well, except for the pen holder (an old empty square candle jar), several boxes which were folded using mad Origami techniques (holding business cards, whiteout, staple remover, and a Creative Zen with earbuds. I don't have speakers yet, so there are Delta Airline earphones attached to the docking station. The cord is short but at least I can hear sound with 'em.

Various cables snake over the backside of the desk from the docking station, too. Scotch tape dispenser and stapler. Then there are the router and DSL modem with their cables. And occasionally, the cat, who is independent of cables.

Actually, I guess dusting isn't as easy as I thought . . .

Smart as a crock pot . . .

I have been sleepy for most of this day. I got up at 7:45 this morning and that is practically sleeping until noon. Tomorrow I would like to do it again so I can put the crock pot on early. Ribs are thawing in the refrigerator and should be ready to slow cook tomorrow.

This slow cooker that Rival sent when my old one cracked is such a nice size. You think that, being the size it is and also smart, I can get it to go grocery shopping?

Someone should . . .

Best of wishes !*!*!*!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

STEVE

Today is his actual date of birth but the official celebration will happen on the eleventh, which is this Saturday. Today seems strange, almost like ignoring the fact that he was ever born.

We will make up for this on Saturday. I sent him a text message earlier today wishing him a happy day.

May it last all year long . . .

Oh, the little guys . . .

I should have taken a camera to church. My two grand-nephews had grown so much that when I saw the younger of the two, I thought he was his older brother. I really needed that camera.

We went to lunch nearby afterward and I sat with the two boys who told me about some of the events they had met with over the holiday: spectacular fireworks, Ice Age 3, swimming. They are such delightful little personalities that we just picked up where we left off from the last time we saw one another.

Yes, I was happy to see my niece (their mother) and their father. We had a nice visit, too.

But, oh those boys . . .

At least it wasn't a 'gator

* * * Happy Fourth of July * * *

Yesterday, on the third, we suffered an invasion. When I opened the side door, a small toad hopped past my feet and came inside, sure of its welcome. It was so wrong. It went under the freezer and we could not find it, thereafter. Believe me, we looked.

We feared fatal results should the cat find it because, in passing, it looked like a miniature Bufo marinus (or Cane Toad) which exudes poison when frightened. Mew can be pretty frightening in predator mode. So we locked her away (with sustenance and sandbox) and watched some television.

J jumped up with his shoe in hand and attacked the rug at the baseboard. Bringing him paper towels and windex was my job. He had seen the culprit hopping across the rug. I had missed it completely. Mew is safe, now.

I can't say as much for the toad . . .

Let there be (flash) light . . .

Zeta was saying the other day that she's going to start stocking up on hurricane supplies. I have already started: two tuna pouches. Does that count?

We use more AA batteries than one would think. Between the digital camera which eats them like candy and remotes getting weak, ours don't last long enough to age in the giant package from the big box store. But D cells? That's a different story. We have some that are two years old. They are old enough to toddle around and order their own happy meals.

As soon as the beams of the flashlights turn faint, I pop in new D's in an effort to use them up. Perhaps I should just let them leave the nest on their own . . .

Oh Frabjous Day . . .

How does a one-day turnaround on A/C repair sound? Sounded well to the ear. Appeared most favorable to the eye. Felt like the Winter of Our disContent had arrived.

It was indeed the fan motor. Scott Appliances had one in stock. It was installed at their location and returned to our location in one afternoon. They are the most efficient (family run) appliance business.

Ahhhh, A/C in the semi-tropics. Artificial breezes. Canned air.

How did the older pioneers not melt?

The necessary coolth . . .

Yesterday, I had a duh - AHA experience. Our A/C is making an intermittet noise. A screeching, if you will. Fan? Motor? Intermittent?

If it's not making the noise all the time, how can a repair person (Oh, how very PC) tell what is wrong? So we waited. Then realization struck. While the screeching made itself audible, I switched the unit to "Fan Only." Screeching kept right on happening.

Calling the lucky repairman this morning with our pinpoint diagnosis. Heh . . .

Oo-oo-oh, it's magic . . .

Mew has always been absolutely sure that if she could just get both front paws on the knob, any door would magically open for her. Here she is seen, after finally achieving her fondest objective, peering at the upper corner of the door to watch for the first widening of the seam.

Mew remained here, hopefully, for some time before uttering a bitter cry and giving up. She finally realized.

She doesn't know the magic words . . .

Here today . .

Occasionally, a house-fly gets, inside. And on those occasions, I can usually swat the intruder using a diversionary technique. When the intended prey lights, I hold the deadly swatter in my right hand and stick my left out to the side (or up, depending). Then, I wiggle the fingers of the left hand like the legs (in my imagination, anyway) of a web-challenged spider.

See, I know that flies have much faster reaction time than I do. But, they don't divide their attention very well. My technique forces them to try and while they are trying, the deadly right hand acts.

Usually. This morning, Mew was staring intently at a dining chair's back. When I asked her what she was doing, she glanced quickly at me and then resumed her stare. Moving closer, I could see a fly that had been elusive since yesterday. Grabbing the swatter from its hook, I went into my act. Between my twitching fingers and Mew's twitching whiskers, it was truly distracted.

It took two of us to hunt this one down. Cooperation between the species . . .

Sunday, Fathers, celebrations . . .

We had a special time on Father's Day. J and I met Zeta and M plus their kids and kids' spouses at the Rockfish Grill. E's parents came also. Zeta and M got there early and had the tables re-arranged so that we could all sit together.

Afterward, we all went back to the house where the most desserts were. That was Zeta and M, again. She had made little spice cakes and brownies. There was 6 carb cheesecake for those who wished to go that route. Ice cream? Oh, yes. Several varieties both leaded and unleaded. Plus fresh ground and brewed Starbucks.

Dinner at home. later, was practically non-existent that evening: snacks and grazing for the most part.

You could tell everyone was having a wonderful time by the noise level.

No ice-breaking necessary.

We keeping you up?

There have been many attempts to take a picture of Mew during a yawn. Her whole head seems to split in half and the fur on the back of her neck climbs toward her ears at the height of the operation.

Our camera is a Fujifilm that has to think for a while after you press the button to tell it there is a picture it might want to take. She usually gets her mouth shut before the shutter decides to operate.

This time, the stars were in alignment. Now, I have to try this from the side. It only took me nine years to come up with this one.

Plenty of time . . .

How hot is it . . .

Umm-kay, this is not August. This is June, all right? So, what's going on?

I went out to the car about 3 p.m. and the interior was way too hot. I touched the window control and had to use a crumpled paper towel to hold it down and open the windows because I couldn't bear to touch it. I needed a potholder. At first, the A/C blew air straight from the Negev via the Sahara.

I glanced at the car's thermometer readout and it said 97°. Whoa, where did that come from?

When I returned home, the first thing I told J was that it was so hot, outside. He said that after I left, he looked at the readout from the front porch thermometer. It read 101°. When I got home, it had dropped to 98°.

Practically a cool wave . . .

Gasseous . . .

I can remember when gas was twenty-nine cents a gallon. Dad would drive up to the pump and tell the attendant that we needed 10 gallons.

And the attendant would clean all of the car's windows while the pump was working. Then check the oil and water levels. Then say, "How about the tires? You want 'em checked this time?"

Be still my heart . . .

All sorts of do's . . .

To do:

Feed Cat: She slept in this morning. Wanted much brushing before food.

Buy Gas: Yikes. $2.53 a gallon at BJ's

Visit Library: Free. Thank heaven that free is also so much fun.

Pick up prescription: It was ready, too.

Do Crossword: I resent that the answer to the clue "bookish" was nerdy. I told BigEd that I don't consider myself nerdy. He laughed and laughed.

Remind someone pick up his cleaning: No names. It has been a week.

Decide what to have for dinner: Fish. And?

I haven't done it yet but I need to call for an appointment to get the locks scissored. I am dreading the locks. (Heh.) Last time, it was layered up the back. Wouldn't turn under naturally but wanted to wave in an independent manner. I hope to wave goodbye to layers. Have I let it grow out enough?

Probably not . . . I may be (snicker) locked into layers.

I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not . . .

Where?

We might as well not even have a cat, right now. I believe this because right now, thunder has rolled. Mew rolled with it - into another dimension possibly. She is invisible at the moment and crouched under the dining room table.

Lightning can't see her when she is invisible. The fact that I see her? Irrelevant.

Rewards for having fun . . .

I stopped by the library to pick up a long-awaited hold, this morning. While there, I learned there will be a summer reading program for adults, beginning this month. This time will include prizes like tote bags, water bottles, etc. What fun.

Who needs incentive to read, thougn? It's like being rewarded for having a birthday.

Oh, wait, we do that, too . . .

Not this time?

It would be unfair to adopt a young puppy now and then go on vacation for two or three weeks in August. Wouldn't it?

I can't envision taking a young one along (or rather, I can and it is not pretty) plus I don't think it would be wise to interrupt its training/upbringing at such a young age, for three whole weeks, by boarding it with our vet. It would be costly, too.

I am talking myself out of going to visit a six weeks old terrier mix which was posted on Freecycle. I did email the owner to see a picture and, like all six week pups, it is the cutest thing. Socialized too, because her children help her take care of it, she wrote.

Doggone it . . .

Mod tech . . .

Zeta taught me something, yesterday:

Did you know that you can look up doppler radar for your area, on line, at a weather site? If you have an internet enabled cell phone or laptop with you, and you are caught in a sudden summer storm, the radar display lets you know how large the bad area of the storm is and you can see whether it is moving away. Or whether you are in for more windblown drenching.

Our local television channel 4 has doppler radar available. I discovered that if you look at the time stamp for the beginning of the radar loop and at the time stamp at the end of the loop, you can almost guestimate how long it will take for that little hole in the clouds to open up over you so you can run to your car. Our radar display is about five minutes behind real time which isn't too bad.

'Course you could always stand out in the rain looking up. But, I don't recommend it. . . .

Please not . . .

Today, we had a little preview of hurricane season. For some reason, the wind came straight out of the west, causing the hard rain to tattoo our side door like a highland drum. The folded, bare mast and spars of our neighbor's boat were lifted above our hibiscus hedge, waving and oscillating as if at sea. Capsizing was not out of the question.

Smaller items were flung into the hedges and the tall palms turned inside out like broken umbrellas. I opened the front door a crack to experience it firsthand. The wind nearly took the door from my grip even though it was only opened enough to peek out. I locked it shut although I don't know what good locking it could do. It just felt safer. Silly.

We guessed the wind gusts might be between 50-60 mph and we have been through enough 'canes to be fair judges of gust speed. These were not altogether steady, though. The wind would moderate between gusts instead of hitting a steady 75 or so and howling up from there. There was no singing of the wind through the wires and chain link fences. No listening to that howl climb in height and volume as it approached. No hearing the trees crack and groan as roots gave way or branches twisted loose to fly.

I had better stop. I'm scaring myself . . .

Happy . . .

During WW II, we received a telephone call that devastated Mommas. She threw herself across the bed in the downstairs bedroom and cried like an injured child.

Dad explained that Watson had been killed when the wing came off his flying boxcar. Watson was her sister's son and Mommas had a colored portrait-style picture of him, wearing his uniform, on her dresser. He was a better looking version of a young John Wayne.

I didn't know that a flying boxcar was a cargo plane. I didn't know why he had been flying in a boxcar. I only knew what I could see: that a telephone call like that one could distort one's reality into awful, new directions.

People are living with that knowledge, today. And today, we honor those who have given all they posessed so that we may be free to keep this holiday however we wish.

God Bless them and those who love and honor them.

It isn't a big deal, but . . .

U-verse is just a speck on our horizon, I would guess. I went to see if there were two boxes on Miller as Zeta suggested. One was standing solo like the monolith in 2001, A Space Odyssey, only not so large. No little box off to the side, behind it, or in front. We have promises only, so far. At least they're talking to us about it.

Today, I go for another shot into an eye. I have become an expert in explaining that it doesn't hurt and that the most annoying thing about it is not being able to get water in the eye for two weeks. Plus the retina specialist's office is so busy that built-in waits are expected.

However, those things are a lot less annoying than not being able to see . . .

To boldly go where noONE has gone, before . . .

Today, was a Star Trek day. I want to see it again in order to take in more of the details or, at least, I need to have my own copy as soon as it is released on disk.

Will I tell you anything about it? Oh, no. Do I recommend going to see it on the big screen?

Oh, Yes . . .

Can you hear me now? No?

We had a most welcome visit from an AT&T rep to discuss U-verse. We don't know how long it will be before the service actually reaches our area but we have signed up. Installation will be at no charge, when it finally does arrive, which was a pretty good incentive to change to that different horse, midstream or not.

The kicker was that we will double our internet speed. Now I really do need some small, inexpensive, external speakers. I have to disconnect from the docking station when I want to watch something on hulu.com (or anything else with sound) because connecting the laptop to the docking station disables the internal speakers.

There's always something . . .

it's time to . . .

It is such freedom. My battery needs a new wristwatch. Or the reverse may be true.

I don't know the accurate time unless I glance up at the bedroom clocks, dining room wall clock, three clocks in the living room, three in the kitchen including oven and microwave, or the computer screen.

I guess I'm not as time-free as I thought.

We have too darn many ways to find out what time it is . . .

Follow that car . . .

When we left to visit J's mother, our grass was brown and crunchy. We were gone for six days and it did not rain a drop while we were away. At least, it didn't on our grass.

This was one of the few trips during which not a drop of rain fell on our moving vehicle. Nor on any parked ones that we could see, either.

However, we must have towed a vortex of moisture laden air behind us as we returned home. Perhaps it was lost and needed a hint. Because, last night it rained some - just enough to make the brown grass supple and give the occasional greenish blade some hope.

This morning it is spattering rain again and the ground is loving the idea of slowly taking it in.

So now we know. It must be true. If there isn't rain down here in the southern end of our state, we have to travel up there and guide it down . . .

More plans . . .

Today, our faithful transportation feels abandoned. We haven't been near it since we got home yesterday. Tomorrow, perhaps, I will climb aboard and see if it remembers the way to the supermarket.

Don't you just love planning ahead . . .

Plans . . .

The day we arrived at J's mother's home, we went to bed early because we wanted to. Well, okay, we needed to. In fact I could have put my head down any time and been gone. Thank Heaven for Starbucks.

On Mother's Day, we took J's mother and sister to a fine restaurant which gave each of the mothers a little something. It was a gift certificate usable on the next visit.

The day after Mother's Day, we had big plans. We were going to the bank and the post office.

I couldn't wait . . .

Most of the time . . .

Tomorrow we are Rock Fish Grilling for lunch with Zeta and M.

Since we are traveling on Friday, BigEd and Mew will be keeping each other company. She is pretty easy company. She mostly does this:
She is on top of the condo that J's mother brought her. She tried the various levels once each and decided she prefers the penthouse. We don't bother her while she is up there and she visibly relaxes when she jumps up.

I know, she is visibly relaxed most of the time unless she wants something . . .

How do you get to Carnegie Hall?

01 Doc asked if there would be any pictures of what I have been doing in Origami class. I will try to put some here although I am still not used to Windows Vista. Above are some boxes that I am not too ashamed to acknowledge. The top row of boxes are the examples of reverse sides of the boxes on the bottom row. The triangular ones require three sheets of paper and the square one requires four pieces. They are docking boxes meaning that the parts have to be interlocked together. That is the most difficult part, for me. Technically, I understand that these are not pure origami. I don't mind as long as they are fun to do.

The first time I attempted a triangular box at home, the paper became so weakened from being refolded and manipulated that I finally crumpled it up and started over again. You know how practice can get some people to Carnegie Hall?

It can also get you some docking boxes . . .

Go see . . .

Zeta and M are thinking of getting back to normal after the long weekend of welcoming family and guests in conjunction with the wedding and reception. We had eclectic food choices in such quantities as to be simply amazing. The one of the best parts was seeing A's face when he discovered his brother had flown in to surprise him. M the younger flies back home tonight.

Zeta has some pictures up on her site. Go check 'em out . . .

Wedding report . . .

S-the-guru has many talents including being the official wedding photographer for today's festivities. I saw many of his shots in the camera and hope to see them on line as he posts them. Perhaps Zeta will display some, also.

It went so well, today. V was a lovely bride and A was funny and proud. His brother flew in as a surprise and when A saw that his brother had come, his face was a study in surprised delight. I knew he would be there and it was so difficult not to blurt out a teletale comment before hand.

We ate and ate at the reception. It was similar to the loaves and fishes in one way: lots left over. A had requested Mommas's broccoli casserole, especially. This time, I pounded Ritz crackers for the topping, which I seldom do and which is faithful to Mommas' version. They seemed to like it. They were surprised to hear that it was handed down from my mother. S said that it is now an old family recipe, for sure.

There was an eclectic selection of food, something for everyone. We had such a good time and so did everyone else. I may eat again tomorrow, or maybe not.

At any rate, early to bed sounds about right . . .

Tomorrow, tomorrow . . .

Tomorrow is the special day. There will be a wedding and a reception to celebrate. A and V will join their lives together. Family and friends will join their voices in celebratory toasts. Zeta and M will host the reception. They have been making preparations for weeks.

I hope the alterations to my suit will be ready this afternoon, as promised.

Nothing like doing things ahead of time . . .