Never satisfied . . .

Being a dinosaur, I do not use RSS feeds. I may be the last remaining person on the planet who prefers to surf to my virtual destinations and see for myself whether someone has recently posted.

I use twitter in a limited fashion. I have an account on facebook but seldom check it. I prefer a good book to good television (there's always the DVR, anyway).

But, there is one piece of technology for which I long. For which I wish avidly. It is U-verse from ATT.

We currently have Comcast Cable. With our one Comcast DVR, we can record two things at once. But, while recording, we can not watch a third program unless it is a previously made DVR recording. We can't watch something from the ON DEMAND list while making any recordings at all.

U-verse allows four (not two) things to be recorded at the same time. The best feature is that anyone can watch any recording from any other set in the house, manipulating the recording as one pleases with pause, rewind, or fast forward. This is done without regard for whether someone else is doing the same things to the same recorded program.

Eventually U-verse is coming to our neighborhood.

Please AT&T, I would like it sooner than that . . .

Take me out . . .

The attendees of the professonal baseball game had a wonderful time. The stadium, I was told, was immaculate. The grass looked as if it had been combed. They got a deal on the tickets which included food and programs. All that was extra to the experience of being at the game. Being there. Roaring with the rest of the crowd.

The seats stayed crowded until the 6th inning.

Now, we had looked up the weather on line before they left for the trek to the stadium. But the seer into the future did not depict the blowing clouds of rain that dumped on the field (and caused a fan retreat into the corridors) during that inning. The rain delay lasted so long that J arrived home just after it abated enough to allow play to resume.

We watched the rest of the game on television. It went to 12 innings. We lost by one point.

There was an article in this morning's paper. A new minority owner of the team had been given a personal tour of the facility before the game started. No wonder the place looked so good.

They were ready for inspection . . .

Off we go . . .

Happy Birthday

Adam

Today is the "synonym for the first man's" birthday. So, a celebratory group of guys are going to a professional baseball game. My assignment, should I wish to accept it, is to search the faces in the stands to try to identify them, during the TV broadcast.

I will.

Briefly . . .

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 . . .