A special time . . .

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving at Zeta's and M's. The food was so good that I could not even eat another crumb. AA really has cooking the turkey in the deep fryer down to a science. It was so juicy and full of flavor. Zeta gave us a separate broccoli casserole of our very own to take home. M made the best key lime pies. There were sweet, baked, and mashed potatoes, corn and cornbread, green beans, squash, stuffing and gravy, cranberry sauce, and more.

Everyone surprised J and I, after we ate, with lovely gifts. It was our 50th anniversary. We spent a special day with family.

That was the best gift of all . . .

Thank You!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Decisions, decisions . . .

During these days leading up to the I-ate-too-much holiday, supermarkets are narrowing the aisles with additional displays of timely, tempting, goodibles: money-making, edible, goods. There wasn't much room to maneuver the grocery cart on those days before all the extras were shoehorned in. Now, if one encounters a shopper who has been entranced by an item's special display and who parks the cart haphazardly, indoor gridlock becomes possible.

It can be unfortunate when the haphazard shopper is traversing the aisles in the opposite direction of the one being traveled by the more aware, sensible shopper. One can encounter that haphazard shopper at almost every turning unless, being willing to forego a whole aisle, the smart shopper skips ahead of the dawdler.

For the rest of this month, I hope to avoid making any more trips to a supermarket of any sort. But you never know . . . and there's always Black Friday. That, however, is gridlock on an entirely different scale . . .

The messenger bearing flowers . . .

These roses are some of the ones planted this June for Father's Day. There is a pink variety, too, but it is not showing off, right now. I took these shots this morning. It has been so windy that the petals are a little beaten. This is proof that they are still alive, though. Also, they prove the roses could use spraying. Did I mention it has been windy? That's my excuse.

SouthWest? Lost in the first round of the playoffs. There is still some pride preening itself for just getting as far as they did.

The Eagles flew higher than they have in a long time . . .

Making preparations for . . .

Today, I have an appointment to have a hairtrim. Why do we use a blow dryer to reset the "do" when we're going to see someone who will re-do it anyway?

It's like vacuuming the house really well before the carpet steamer people come to do it thoroughly. Not very useful, but we do it anyway.

Or, how about brushing the cat an extra long time before she goes to the vet's office for boarding. The first thing they will do is give her a bath. Well, I can see a reason for all that pre-brushing. Who wants to be responsible for embarrassing the cat?

Nearly the last resort . . .

Sometimes it does pay to read the instructions. I had downloaded an (unabridged, free) audible book to my computer from our public library's web site. I looked all over my computer for that file. Couldn't find it.

After going back and reading some more instructions on the library site, I found that Windows Media Player could be used to organize, open, license, and move the file to a portable mp3 player. Windows Media Player knew exactly where that book file had been stored. How charming.

Tonight, I rode the stationary bike while being entertained from between my ears. At least that is where the voice seemed to be coming from.

Next, I'm gonna rip some music! That sounds so daring . . .

In the ooze-time zone . . .

Last night, we had discussed arriving at the auto mechanic's door early this morning. This is an inconvenient time for a car or microwave to opt for service. It is always so; there is never a really convenient time.

But, this morning was especially inconvenient as the ambient temperature was in the low 50's per our digital thermometer. I needed to layer . . . should have laid out the clothing the night before. Decision making is hard when thought processes ooze instead of synapse-ing.

We had agreed, I thought, that Big Ed would leave at 6:15 a.m. and I would follow him a little later. He actually wanted to leave at 6:45 a.m. My bad.

Half an hour one way or the other usually makes little difference. The exception is when it cuts into sleeping time. Thank heaven for coffee.

Our good mechanic said he would call us after he had looked at the car. Big Ed and I traveled over to Mickie D's drive up window before going back home. Egg McMuffins are two for $2 and we are no fools.

Not after we wake up, anyway . . .

I bring you . . .

Please, do NOT shoot the messenger . . .

Gables defeated SouthWest. I refuse to give the embarrassing score.

There is good news though: SouthWest is still in the playoffs. Even better news: their first opponent is not Gables.

Not blond, either . . .

Every once in a great while, one of us gets vertigo. This time it is J's turn to live in a whirly-world. When that happens, the other of us searches out our bottle of Meclizine, which is what we keep on hand for those *seldom* occasions.

It has indeed been a while since we have needed it. The old bottle is dated 2004. Thanks to our doctor's office, we now have a new supply on hand so that the unneeded remainder of the new tablets can age gracefully out of usefulness.

We hope . . .

This just in . . .

Tomorrow, SouthWest plays Gables. Both teams have an 8 and 1 record. The game will be at Tropical Park. Kickoff 7 p.m.

Update . . .

SouthWest is now 8 and 1. Heh.

They beat Braddock. Heh, heh.

Who ya gonna call?

Advice for the day:

Say, you have a small appliance that breaks and, say, it's a GE Profile microwave. And say also, that you had put it under an extended service contract with Sears when the original guarantee expired.

Don't contact GE for a service call. Next time, you might not check the Sears file in time to cancel the service call from the wrong company. Whew.

Just saying . . .

Who is Justin Case . . .

We admit to using up most of our emergency food supplies because we thought we were fairly safe this late in the hurricane season. Paloma gave us a reality check.

She brought to mind that major storms do not read the calendar nor do they pay attention to storm trends of previous weather years. The Dove acted like a hawk as it approached Cuba and then had its wings clipped by the mountains and high level winds.

With the Dove being reduced to a tattered low, I guess it is safe to use up the gallons of water stored in our spare room. They are useful to cook with and make coffee.

'Course, we have the rest of November to go 'til the end of hurricane season.

Maybe we should wait, just in case . . .

GE Profile Haiku . . .

Nuking a bowlful
Microwave stopped and smelled burned
Convenience has died . . .

We have a five year guarantee on the magnetron. What do you want to bet that the repairman will diagnose an unrelated problem. He comes on Monday, between 8 am and 5 pm. That's as narrow a window of arrival as GE could come up with. He will call before he comes however. It's a pretty appliance - when it works.

Our old analog Sharp lasted a lot longer than two years before requiring a diagnosis.

ESPNU, where are you?

For some reason related (of course) to money, our local Comcast does not carry ESPNU, the College Sports channel. This is a real bummer for fans. And for those who have to switch the surround sound to mono and tune in to the AM station which carries the games.

What a step back in time. It makes you want to nuke a hot dog or pop some popcorn just to have something to look at. We are so spoiled from watching the action on the big screen.

Well, not we're not being spoiled by Comcast . . .

Haiku of hope . . .

Blue and red, please merge
Blend into a whole country
Votes are colorless

We now return to your regular programming

Hey, possibly "Bones" won't be preempted tonight. How refreshing. We can get our weekly fix. It tickles me that author Kathy Reichs created the character nicknamed Bones and that the Bones character writes about a forensic anthropologist named Kathy Reichs.

We like "The Mentalist." The first few episodes were similar to finding a S. Holmes character in modern dress. "Life" is also one that we hit the DVR so as not to miss. Is there a pattern developing here?

Probably . . .

The Big Day, Vote, y'all . . .

Someone asked me if I had voted already or still needed to vote today. We had the absentee ballot discussion. The funny thing is that he had requested an absentee ballot but left it a little late to make his request. So, if he votes with the absentee ballot, he has to take the ballot to voting headquarters in person. Long lines there, too, we conjecture. So he might as well vote at the precinct.

VOTE. No matter where, just do it! Does that seem overly emphatic? Just go give yourself a voice. Each vote is a whisper adding to the shout of acclamation by the people.

I wonder what is WRONG with the 40-something-percent of eligible voters who won't do it. I know there are illness and accident to prevent some votes being cast. But, It is important to have a voice in the decision so you can deserve to voice a complaint any time in the next four years.

Retardant . . .

The night before Halloween, I had determined to get up early next morning and go buy gas before my gauge bounced on empty. I usually don't wait that long but this time it got away from me. I told J that I planned to get up early to beat the morning rush and fill the car.

Laziness struck. Big Ed said he would go along and pump the gas so we didn't go until the afternoon. Our station was blocked off with crime scene tape and was still the focus of hazmat vehicles and police units.

This was the reason. Good thing I didn't go early, after all.

Breaking news . . .

For those with a vested interest in knowing: SouthWest is now seven and one. They have (drumroll here) made the playoffs. Can you believe it?

Unless J is making it up, of course . . . naaah.

Are we there yet?

Why does a one hour time change leave me reeling as if I had flown to California and landed at midnight after being up late the night before, packing for the trip. This would include a 3 hour layover in Atlanta or Charleston. Like that.

At three this afternoon, I began to preheat the oven for dinner. Ah, that was a little early so I turned it back off and went to lie down for a while. Good thing I set the timer. I would still be asleep otherwise.

When nearly asleep, I respond to: "Why is the timer going off?" much more kindly than I do to: "What's for dinner?" One is a reminder generated by my own actions. The other is a reminder of a different texture, altogether.

The difference between the two questions really wouldn't matter so much except for the effects of that flight to
California . . .

Take a position?

That position we are going to assume being: Fall Back. We'll reset the clocks to an hour earlier before we hit the hay tonight. One year J and I were so efficient that we, independently of one another, reset all the wall clocks so that they were each set two hours early .

Now we divide up the duty. Our watches are our own responsibility but J takes care of the wall clocks. I do the clock in the stove, microwave, and coffeemaker. I do my alarm clock and his while I am thinking about it. Big Ed does his own whatevers.

The computer, bless its heart, is independent enough to do it for itself and so are most televisions. 'Cept for the one in the dining room and I don't know why it is so backward about it.

The VCRs? They can fend for themselves. Who cares?

Blink, blink, blink, blink . . .