Monday, April 29, 2019
Flora and Fauna
Sunday, April 28, 2019
Straw Vote
Yesterday I had the rare pleasure of dining out, at Brown's in Troy. Marilyn and I ordered sodas, initially, and the waiter, a congenial sort, plopped the glasses on the table in front of us. I asked if we could have straws, and he said yes, on request, and then he separately asked M. if she too wanted a straw. Has to ask now, he said. So he brought the straws.
The straws were wrapped in paper, and of paper, and the diameter was very wide, almost twice as wide as a plastic straw would have been. Using it was somewhat akin to slurping a soda, not such a satisfactory experience. Dinner-wise, all else was superb, so no big deal.
My mind slipped to my first memory of drinking straws. We kids were little and we were sick, most likely from one of the childhood diseases. We got them all---whooping cough, measles, mumps. We were in the back seat of my father's car. He stopped at Cinelli's drug store, and my mother went in and came out with a bottle of ginger ale and a package of straws, the first time purchase of such a luxury for our household.The straws were red and of cellophane, loose in a box. I really liked the idea, felt so pampered.
The straws were wrapped in paper, and of paper, and the diameter was very wide, almost twice as wide as a plastic straw would have been. Using it was somewhat akin to slurping a soda, not such a satisfactory experience. Dinner-wise, all else was superb, so no big deal.
My mind slipped to my first memory of drinking straws. We kids were little and we were sick, most likely from one of the childhood diseases. We got them all---whooping cough, measles, mumps. We were in the back seat of my father's car. He stopped at Cinelli's drug store, and my mother went in and came out with a bottle of ginger ale and a package of straws, the first time purchase of such a luxury for our household.The straws were red and of cellophane, loose in a box. I really liked the idea, felt so pampered.
Living Proof
In today's world, people tend to record every single detail of life as it happens, so as long as the technology doesn't degrade, there is a record of everything that happens, significant or not. But that wasn't always true.
If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, did it make a sound? The corollary could be that if some event occurred, and there is no trace left of it, either technologically recorded, or in the human mind, did that event really happen?
When we were young, our neighbor was Sandy, and she often appears in my mind. I see her likeness in the face of the local American Idol contender, whose teeth and smile are so similar to Sandy's.
The likeness triggers a long ago event involving Sandy. I know it happened, though even shortly after, the narrative was altered. Like the thousand and thousands of books and movies we've invested time in over the years, only certain filmy scenes or chapters emerge, and this is one of them.
Sandy and I were in our kitchen late one evening. We were probably waiting for Dorothy to come home from a date. Sandy and she talked on a regular basis, about everything. They were still teenagers.
A friend showed up, after his coaching a basketball game, I think, and offered to drive us to a dairy bar in Stillwater to get milkshakes. Here is where the clarity of memory kicks in. It was winter, a typical winter then with deep snowbanks that seemed almost permanent in those years. We were approaching the intersection of Route 67 and 40, and for some reason, quite uncharacteristic of him, our driver said, "Let's blow through the stoplight," which was red in our direction. He did so, and Boom, smack into the side of a car that was traveling down Route 40 from the Easton direction. We knew some of the people in the other car, including a woman who was pregnant. (Each time I ever met her, even years later, she alway reminded me of this accident.)
There were no serious injuries. Cars were big and ironclad in those years, the late 1950's, but they also lacked seatbelts. I'd been sitting in the middle of the front seat, and the impact drove my knee into a plastic knob below the dashboard. The knob shattered and my knee still bears the scar. Sandy was on the outside of the front seat, and she was thrown forward, smacking her head into the front window. Sandy was stunned, my knee was bleeding, the police arrived, and I have no clear memory of the events immediately following.
I do know that the circumstances leading up to the accident were significantly altered in the view of at least one other person. In the annals of time, this happening is a non-event, currently real only in my recollection.
If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, did it make a sound? The corollary could be that if some event occurred, and there is no trace left of it, either technologically recorded, or in the human mind, did that event really happen?
When we were young, our neighbor was Sandy, and she often appears in my mind. I see her likeness in the face of the local American Idol contender, whose teeth and smile are so similar to Sandy's.
The likeness triggers a long ago event involving Sandy. I know it happened, though even shortly after, the narrative was altered. Like the thousand and thousands of books and movies we've invested time in over the years, only certain filmy scenes or chapters emerge, and this is one of them.
Sandy and I were in our kitchen late one evening. We were probably waiting for Dorothy to come home from a date. Sandy and she talked on a regular basis, about everything. They were still teenagers.
A friend showed up, after his coaching a basketball game, I think, and offered to drive us to a dairy bar in Stillwater to get milkshakes. Here is where the clarity of memory kicks in. It was winter, a typical winter then with deep snowbanks that seemed almost permanent in those years. We were approaching the intersection of Route 67 and 40, and for some reason, quite uncharacteristic of him, our driver said, "Let's blow through the stoplight," which was red in our direction. He did so, and Boom, smack into the side of a car that was traveling down Route 40 from the Easton direction. We knew some of the people in the other car, including a woman who was pregnant. (Each time I ever met her, even years later, she alway reminded me of this accident.)
There were no serious injuries. Cars were big and ironclad in those years, the late 1950's, but they also lacked seatbelts. I'd been sitting in the middle of the front seat, and the impact drove my knee into a plastic knob below the dashboard. The knob shattered and my knee still bears the scar. Sandy was on the outside of the front seat, and she was thrown forward, smacking her head into the front window. Sandy was stunned, my knee was bleeding, the police arrived, and I have no clear memory of the events immediately following.
I do know that the circumstances leading up to the accident were significantly altered in the view of at least one other person. In the annals of time, this happening is a non-event, currently real only in my recollection.
Friday, April 26, 2019
And he'll never return...
...Derek Hough, that is. We've had the tickets since Christmas time, and the performance was to be tonight, at the Palace Theatre. But a water main broke and all weekend performances cancelled on short notice. The cancellation would have been bad enough, if for a natural disaster, such as a tornado or blizzard, but a broken water pipe! Probably one of those still made of wood. A lot of performers tend to disparage the city of Albany already, no wonder why.
Time for Ticks
I found 3 ticks on me, April 21, 22 and 23. They hadn't bitten me, and one escaped the tape. (I don't know how long they can live without a host, probably for years.
Thursday, April 25, 2019
NYS DOT *****Rating
I called about removal of deer carcass that's been roadside all week. In less than an hour, DOT came and took it away.
Hmmm, I didn't realize I had that much influence.
Hmmm, I didn't realize I had that much influence.
Wednesday, April 24, 2019
Clean Hands
I just saw the unveiling of a new bust in honor of Hungarian Dr. Semmelweis, who discovered hand washing as a deterrent to disease.
Next to be honored is whoever first said it was a good idea to look both ways before crossing the street
Next to be honored is whoever first said it was a good idea to look both ways before crossing the street
Tuesday, April 23, 2019
MD's out of my Queue
Carrozza, Constantino, Pietracola, Mastrianni, Goldstein, Polsinello, Bloss and Marshal. The first six retired or moved. No need for the two officious little dweebs.
All in the Family
George K, was the brother of Joanne C's mother.
George sold his house to Nellie, a relative of his wife, who was Phoebe Brundige.
She was related to the Charley Brundiges who ran the store on State Street.
One of their (twin) daughters is Mary Ann Fredericks.
Mary Ann's daughter married the son of Cathy Campbell Lawler .
Cathy is the daughter of Shirley and Bob Campbell.
(Mary Ann's grandsons, at least one of them, looks like Cathy when she was little.
George sold his house to Nellie, a relative of his wife, who was Phoebe Brundige.
She was related to the Charley Brundiges who ran the store on State Street.
One of their (twin) daughters is Mary Ann Fredericks.
Mary Ann's daughter married the son of Cathy Campbell Lawler .
Cathy is the daughter of Shirley and Bob Campbell.
(Mary Ann's grandsons, at least one of them, looks like Cathy when she was little.
Saturday, April 20, 2019
Friday, April 19, 2019
Good to know...
...that, evidently, according to Attorney Rudy G., if you sign an agreement to do business, but for some reason that hasn't occurred,* as yet anyway, you have not been involved in doing business with the other party. And it's not a lie if you make an obviously untrue statement, because that would just be an opinion.
It's all in the algorithms.
* What law applies to all those sexual predators arrested and jailed for attempting to arrange "dates" with underage people, but who actually were talking to police officers posing as minors. Those found guilty never even spoke with alleged minors, and certainly never met up with them. They were guilty of intent.
It's all in the algorithms.
* What law applies to all those sexual predators arrested and jailed for attempting to arrange "dates" with underage people, but who actually were talking to police officers posing as minors. Those found guilty never even spoke with alleged minors, and certainly never met up with them. They were guilty of intent.
Thursday, April 18, 2019
Nest Egg
Everyone knows we should all have a nest egg, right? A cache of money put away so we can build a reserve fund. That way enforces our financial security.
But pictured below is an actual, century-old nest egg, from which our bit of financial strategy gets its name.
These eggs were placed in the henhouse, to remind the hens where to lay their eggs, and/or to induce them to lay in the first place. Stupid chickens--to be deceived by a hard, cold inanimate object. And we're to emulate them.
But pictured below is an actual, century-old nest egg, from which our bit of financial strategy gets its name.
These eggs were placed in the henhouse, to remind the hens where to lay their eggs, and/or to induce them to lay in the first place. Stupid chickens--to be deceived by a hard, cold inanimate object. And we're to emulate them.
Embarrassment IN Richness
If some words are spoken in public and everyone pretends not to hear, were the words actually spoken? Apparently not if you consider the present, and probably all-time, Jeopardy champion contestant.
Jeopardy has long championed the education system, and for years has drawn many, if not most, contestants from the teaching field, even holding special tournaments dedicated to teachers and educators. Alex rejoices when teachers describe how they use the Jeopardy format to enhance learning in their classrooms.
But now, what has occurred? The most successful of contestants, when asked to what he attributed his vast store of knowledge---to what school, or teacher---answered to the contrary. Yes, he did. He said he HATED school, just relied upon reading on his own. (Well, that ungrateful whelp! I wonder where he went to school or college, and who taught him to read anyway.
Jeopardy has long championed the education system, and for years has drawn many, if not most, contestants from the teaching field, even holding special tournaments dedicated to teachers and educators. Alex rejoices when teachers describe how they use the Jeopardy format to enhance learning in their classrooms.
But now, what has occurred? The most successful of contestants, when asked to what he attributed his vast store of knowledge---to what school, or teacher---answered to the contrary. Yes, he did. He said he HATED school, just relied upon reading on his own. (Well, that ungrateful whelp! I wonder where he went to school or college, and who taught him to read anyway.
Wednesday, April 17, 2019
A dream. I guess...
We were trying to come up with some solution to a situation which I can't recall, but we were looking at an expanse of property. I noticed an array of figures approaching whatever the situation was. They were small, white, and fluffy looking, as I could see as they got closer, kind of like little rabbits or lambs. I asked the person who seemed to be in charge what they were. He said, "Oh, they're stoats." I knew a stoat meant something different, but of course I accepted his words. "They show up when something is missing, to fill in a blank space." I asked if I could have one, but received no answer.
I thought about this a lot, in that state half way between dream and awakening. I decided if I had to psychoanalyze this dream, I would surmise that the stoats represented words. There was considerable evidence to back up this assessment, but I will spare my Blog that.
I have no words to offer.
I thought about this a lot, in that state half way between dream and awakening. I decided if I had to psychoanalyze this dream, I would surmise that the stoats represented words. There was considerable evidence to back up this assessment, but I will spare my Blog that.
I have no words to offer.
Dorothy
She wanted so deeply to be a mother. Going through some of her papers, I found a folder filled with all the steps she had taken to try to have a baby. Painstaking and painful---medical tests, heartfelt pleas for help, prayers---all in vain.
So she had no children of her own and no grandchildren either. The closest she could come were her relatives' children and grandchildren.
She loved them with all
her heart:
So she had no children of her own and no grandchildren either. The closest she could come were her relatives' children and grandchildren.
She loved them with all
Tuesday, April 16, 2019
Bricks and Mortar
I am not being vindictive in the face of tragedy. I can't help the thoughts that enter my mind, especially during the night. They go back to the closing and abandonment of Our Lady of Good Counsel Church in Valley Falls, then part of St. John's parish.
There was outrage and outcry: " We were married here! So were our parents. My children made their First Communions here. We celebrated the one-hundredth anniversary of the church just a few years ago. The church is home to one of the most renowned pipe organs in the country. All our memories are here!" The pleas to keep the church open were demanding at first, and later plaintive. But all in vain.
The advice and rationale from those higher up, the decision makers, let the parishioners know the real truth. A building is just a construction of bricks and mortar. The heart of a church, and indeed religion, is in its essence, not in its materials. The Mass can be said anywhere, even outdoors, in the open. The building is just the shell for the celebration of Mass.
And so the building for Our Lady of Good Counsel was closed, and left to deteriorate. After, that is, the Desanctification ceremony was conducted.
There was outrage and outcry: " We were married here! So were our parents. My children made their First Communions here. We celebrated the one-hundredth anniversary of the church just a few years ago. The church is home to one of the most renowned pipe organs in the country. All our memories are here!" The pleas to keep the church open were demanding at first, and later plaintive. But all in vain.
The advice and rationale from those higher up, the decision makers, let the parishioners know the real truth. A building is just a construction of bricks and mortar. The heart of a church, and indeed religion, is in its essence, not in its materials. The Mass can be said anywhere, even outdoors, in the open. The building is just the shell for the celebration of Mass.
And so the building for Our Lady of Good Counsel was closed, and left to deteriorate. After, that is, the Desanctification ceremony was conducted.
Oral English
I dreaded it, speaking in public, even though the public forum was the seventh grade classroom in the old Schaghticoke Elementary building. I must have spoken the allotted time then, but I have no idea what I could have talked about.
But I do remember the topic chosen by a new girl to our class. I'll call her Evie. She was dark-haired, with a pretty heart-shaped face. Dressed in a pink dress with a sweetheart neckline and a flared skirt, she stood before the class, and recounted how she was told to get rid of a litter of unwanted kittens. In those days, it was not an unusual request to ask of a child. I have vivid memories of a boy from down the lane carrying a burlap bag of kittens and dropping the bag off the Valley Falls bridge into the river, and on more than one such occasion.
Evie didn't seem nervous as she stood before the class. She smiled a little as she detailed her choice of execution of the task given her. She chose the backyard clothesline, the type with the double rope and pulley. She looped the rope around the neck of each kitten; she said there were three. Then she activated the pulley, which of course tightened the rope. She described the image of the dangling kittens, contorted and dying.
I don't remember any reaction from the teacher, though I think some of the audience laughed.
But I do remember the topic chosen by a new girl to our class. I'll call her Evie. She was dark-haired, with a pretty heart-shaped face. Dressed in a pink dress with a sweetheart neckline and a flared skirt, she stood before the class, and recounted how she was told to get rid of a litter of unwanted kittens. In those days, it was not an unusual request to ask of a child. I have vivid memories of a boy from down the lane carrying a burlap bag of kittens and dropping the bag off the Valley Falls bridge into the river, and on more than one such occasion.
Evie didn't seem nervous as she stood before the class. She smiled a little as she detailed her choice of execution of the task given her. She chose the backyard clothesline, the type with the double rope and pulley. She looped the rope around the neck of each kitten; she said there were three. Then she activated the pulley, which of course tightened the rope. She described the image of the dangling kittens, contorted and dying.
I don't remember any reaction from the teacher, though I think some of the audience laughed.
Monday, April 15, 2019
How long, o how long?
When will the ripped-jeans style have run its course. I don't mean natural wear and tear in the denim, but the willfully inflicted rips and tears. I don't really care, but some of the destroyed and disrupted jeans look so uncomfortable to wear. I suppose the same mindset as the low-slung pants that need to be held in place, of course not by a belt, but by the human's hands.
Sunday, April 14, 2019
Throw-down or People Are Stupid
I was rounding one of the many clothing racks on the floor at JCP. There are racks and racks crowded with articles of clothing. As I turned the corner, there lying on the floor were a bunch of the clothes, still on hangers, but strewn every which way, probably several dozen items. I wondered if a prospective customer was planning to take them into a fitting room, or maybe had returned them and just dropped them off.
A salesclerk came up to another, who evidently was thinning out the clothes rack, as it was too crowded for customers to pull out what they wanted. "I don't want to criticize you," she told her. "But it is totally against the rules to put anything on the floor, ever. And if you are reported for that, you will be certain to be called in."
The offending clerk replied, "Well, does that mean if something slips off the rack onto the floor, we're not supposed to hang it back up?"
(See second part of this post's title.)
A salesclerk came up to another, who evidently was thinning out the clothes rack, as it was too crowded for customers to pull out what they wanted. "I don't want to criticize you," she told her. "But it is totally against the rules to put anything on the floor, ever. And if you are reported for that, you will be certain to be called in."
The offending clerk replied, "Well, does that mean if something slips off the rack onto the floor, we're not supposed to hang it back up?"
(See second part of this post's title.)
Saturday, April 13, 2019
Summer Sunday 4-13-19
One of the longest days in history, mine anyway. The weather was beautiful. First picture below at noon today, the second at 6:00 p.m. I did some light yardwork, but the going was oh so slow. I sat on the front step and finally detected signs of life in the lilies of the valley planted there. There were about a thousand plants last year, and they got overrun with creeping mint and spread into the lawn, so we mowed over them. They were so late this year I thought they might have died, but as I sat on the step, I saw a tiny little sprout and then another, and a third. They seemed to grow as I watched; in the past I've actually seen the flowers unfold; they spring open right before my eyes.
I also encountered, as I sat there, the first mosquito of the season---lank and rangy and fast-moving, but I waited it out until I dispatched it. One down. It brought to mind ticks. I have a collection of 24 scotch-taped ticks, which I plucked either off my skin or dug out. A few were too fragmented to photograph, In the summer of 2018, I tested positive for the B. burgdorferi infection, after experiencing weakness in my arms. 20 days of antibiotics cured that, or so I hope.Last summer
I bought some tick repellent and sprayed it on my shoes and saw only 1 tick on me, I'll use it this year when I can find it.
I also encountered, as I sat there, the first mosquito of the season---lank and rangy and fast-moving, but I waited it out until I dispatched it. One down. It brought to mind ticks. I have a collection of 24 scotch-taped ticks, which I plucked either off my skin or dug out. A few were too fragmented to photograph, In the summer of 2018, I tested positive for the B. burgdorferi infection, after experiencing weakness in my arms. 20 days of antibiotics cured that, or so I hope.Last summer
Friday, April 12, 2019
Poetry Week
In honor of poetry, a haiku:
Redacted
dusty memory
long stored in the mind's bookshelf
now too worn for use
Redacted
dusty memory
long stored in the mind's bookshelf
now too worn for use
Thursday, April 11, 2019
First Alert Vindication
The heating repair techs all wear, or carry, carbon monoxide detectors, a necessity in their job. One of the kind souls, concerned for my safety, asked if I had one, and could he see it. I showed him the First Alert, which I had finally been able to activate.
He said it wasn't activated, so he read the instructions and moved the lever down, near the downward arrow. He pressed the button and of course it didn't beep. Because the arrow must be in the up position, as I had found out. So he moved the lever up, where I had placed it, and pressing the button then resulted in the beep. He, a certified tech, said the instructions were stupid.
So, as I avow, it isn't me. It's them.
He said it wasn't activated, so he read the instructions and moved the lever down, near the downward arrow. He pressed the button and of course it didn't beep. Because the arrow must be in the up position, as I had found out. So he moved the lever up, where I had placed it, and pressing the button then resulted in the beep. He, a certified tech, said the instructions were stupid.
So, as I avow, it isn't me. It's them.
The H of HVAC + Chronology
Lennox Furnace installed by Holbrook through Home Depot 10/05/2016 for $4339
9/25/2017 Annual Cleaning, Holbrook---$211.68
_________________________________________________________________
3/20/ 2019 Annual Cleaning,Polsinello, BUT Ryan found bad oil pump, leaking, replaced w/ Beckett Single Stage Clean Cut Pump, $503.27. He discounted from $707.40 didn't charge for 4 1/2 hrs. labor
Since that date, sporadic odor of oil, strong on Sunday, April 7 so...
Monday, 4/8/2019,Service Call, Polsinello--Ryan diagnosed "cracked heat exchanger---need new furnace." Red-flagged for safety(N.C.)
Monday, 4/8/2019, Service Call, Holbrook---A. J. found no crack, adjusted heat exchanger, found no leak, referred to Combustion Analyzer Paid $288.90
Tuesday, 4/9/2019 Sean, Holbrook, Combustion Analyzer---pulled burner, set depth, tested. all ok. (N.C.) BUT, after he left, stronger odor and red-stain leakage, so...
Wednesday, 4/10/ 2019,10:30 a.m. Service Call, Holbrook, Brandon---diagnosed broken J-tube. Referred to tech who had part, who didn't show up
Wednesday 4/10/2019 5:00--7:00 P.M. Service Call, Brandon---replaced part, said no leak now, but call if problem.
He turned our heat back on, which is good, but odor is still there, which needs to burn off from the previous leaks. Hoping...
9/25/2017 Annual Cleaning, Holbrook---$211.68
_________________________________________________________________
3/20/ 2019 Annual Cleaning,Polsinello, BUT Ryan found bad oil pump, leaking, replaced w/ Beckett Single Stage Clean Cut Pump, $503.27. He discounted from $707.40 didn't charge for 4 1/2 hrs. labor
Since that date, sporadic odor of oil, strong on Sunday, April 7 so...
Monday, 4/8/2019,Service Call, Polsinello--Ryan diagnosed "cracked heat exchanger---need new furnace." Red-flagged for safety(N.C.)
Monday, 4/8/2019, Service Call, Holbrook---A. J. found no crack, adjusted heat exchanger, found no leak, referred to Combustion Analyzer Paid $288.90
Tuesday, 4/9/2019 Sean, Holbrook, Combustion Analyzer---pulled burner, set depth, tested. all ok. (N.C.) BUT, after he left, stronger odor and red-stain leakage, so...
Wednesday, 4/10/ 2019,10:30 a.m. Service Call, Holbrook, Brandon---diagnosed broken J-tube. Referred to tech who had part, who didn't show up
Wednesday 4/10/2019 5:00--7:00 P.M. Service Call, Brandon---replaced part, said no leak now, but call if problem.
He turned our heat back on, which is good, but odor is still there, which needs to burn off from the previous leaks. Hoping...
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Tuesday, April 9, 2019
A Little Chicken Chatter
I feel so rotten that I'll try to lighten the mood with a conversation I had this week. I'd listed an ad in a local paper offering free freezer-burned frozen meat for game-farm animals, etc. Some months ago, the same newspaper ran an ad from a game farm asking for just such offerings. I believe it may have unfortunately closed since then.
Anyway, a man called from pretty far north, some place like Fort Plain or such. He was curious to know how I'd burned frozen meat. And at a game farm?
So I explained the circumstance and said a woman from Salem had taken it for her chickens.
"Oh, chickens are voracious carnivores," he said. One time on the farm he put a baby goat in the chicken coop overnight because it was cold out. The chickens were already roosting, so he didn't see any problem. But the next morning when he went to get the goat, he found it mostly devoured. The Rhode Island Reds lay the largest eggs, but they are also very aggressive he said. When he saw the little goat's mangled pecked-at body, he wanted to kill all those chickens. They had chicken for dinner every night for weeks, he said.
We chatted some more, mostly about chickens, and he said he had enjoyed talking to me.
Anyway, a man called from pretty far north, some place like Fort Plain or such. He was curious to know how I'd burned frozen meat. And at a game farm?
So I explained the circumstance and said a woman from Salem had taken it for her chickens.
"Oh, chickens are voracious carnivores," he said. One time on the farm he put a baby goat in the chicken coop overnight because it was cold out. The chickens were already roosting, so he didn't see any problem. But the next morning when he went to get the goat, he found it mostly devoured. The Rhode Island Reds lay the largest eggs, but they are also very aggressive he said. When he saw the little goat's mangled pecked-at body, he wanted to kill all those chickens. They had chicken for dinner every night for weeks, he said.
We chatted some more, mostly about chickens, and he said he had enjoyed talking to me.
Furnace, 4/9/2019
Several have told me if oil leaks onto your floor, a concrete floor will have to be jackhammered up at cost of thousands, unreimbursable by homeowners insurance.
Everything (something) you always (never) wanted to know about heating oil
Now there's #2 Heating Oil and there's Diesel Fuel. You may think there's a difference, but, no, they're actually the same. Oh, except for the color, that is. Your home heating oil will be pinkish, because of a dye that's added to mark a distinction between the two. Why? you may ask.
The answer, as is true of most things in life, has to do with money, tax money to be specific.If I understand correctly, and it's possible that's not exactly precise, home heating oil is cheaper than diesel. Vehicles that use diesel are subject to an additional tax, beyond the taxes on home fuel oil. It's called a road tax.
If a driver fills his tank with home fuel oil instead of that designated as diesel, there is no mechanical issue because they are the same. But that driver, if caught, would be subject to considerable fines. It's against the law to drive on home fuel oil.
"Well, how would anyone ever find out?" I ask, in my ignorance. Because the police would recognize diesel vehicles, and they regularly pull them over and test for that. As in, "Let me put a dipstick in your gas tank."
Tune in for next lesson, "How to Conduct a Combustion Analysis for Dummies."
***Yes, DSS, I know you told me that once, and I apologize for thinking you were making stuff up.
The answer, as is true of most things in life, has to do with money, tax money to be specific.If I understand correctly, and it's possible that's not exactly precise, home heating oil is cheaper than diesel. Vehicles that use diesel are subject to an additional tax, beyond the taxes on home fuel oil. It's called a road tax.
If a driver fills his tank with home fuel oil instead of that designated as diesel, there is no mechanical issue because they are the same. But that driver, if caught, would be subject to considerable fines. It's against the law to drive on home fuel oil.
"Well, how would anyone ever find out?" I ask, in my ignorance. Because the police would recognize diesel vehicles, and they regularly pull them over and test for that. As in, "Let me put a dipstick in your gas tank."
Tune in for next lesson, "How to Conduct a Combustion Analysis for Dummies."
***Yes, DSS, I know you told me that once, and I apologize for thinking you were making stuff up.
Not just robo-calls..
...but real live grandchildren calling to see how I am. A few minutes ago, a Hi, Grandma call from my granddaughter. She's feeling a little under the weather, but more concerned about me. When she asked if I knew who she was, I said I thought a scammer. The line went dead. And I thought someone cared!
Monday, April 8, 2019
Paucity of Pics
Thousands, Millions of pictures now, but back in the day, very few. I think these are the only pictures we have of our childhood.
Difference of Opinion
In the past month, I've received 2 instances of diametrically opposed opinions on two separate issues. The first was from 2 separate medical providers. The second was from 2 separate service technicians.
I suppose, in each case, the facts may support either diagnosis, a combination of the two, or neither. Truth is elusive in a world of chaos.
I suppose, in each case, the facts may support either diagnosis, a combination of the two, or neither. Truth is elusive in a world of chaos.
American Idol, Cat and Feet
We're watching. Bobby Bones subbing for Ryan Seacrest, whose job this year seems to be pushing the contestants offstage after they've performed.
Maybe never sits in my lap; they say Maine coon cats act like dogs, and she's half that.
Maybe never sits in my lap; they say Maine coon cats act like dogs, and she's half that.
Saturday, April 6, 2019
An All-time Favorite Picture
The occasion---Danny's First Communion, May, 1985
The location---Our Lady of Good Counsel Church Bsement
The expressions---Priceless
The location---Our Lady of Good Counsel Church Bsement
The expressions---Priceless
Friday, April 5, 2019
First Alert(ed)
I have a new First Alert Smoke & Carbon Monoxide Detector, with 10-Year Alarm Life. I opened the package, and tried to figure out how to activate it. Instructions on the back of the unit on "How to Activate Alarm" read:
(1) Align alarm with bracket and turn sideways. (Ok, this connects it to mounting plate.)
(2) Press and hold test button to ensure alarm is activated. (There is a rectangular disc on the front. Pressing it did nothing. And, unlike the others we've had, there is no other rounded button on front.)
The only other instructions printed on the back reads "How to Deactivate Alarm." I veer away from this because once the unit is deactivated, it is dead, and must be replaced.
Finally, after searching for answers, I called Customer Service. The solution is simple. The tab by the Deactivate instructions, with a single downward-pointing black arrow, must be moved, not downward, but upward. Wouldn't you think they'd offer a clue? It can't be me. It's them!
(1) Align alarm with bracket and turn sideways. (Ok, this connects it to mounting plate.)
(2) Press and hold test button to ensure alarm is activated. (There is a rectangular disc on the front. Pressing it did nothing. And, unlike the others we've had, there is no other rounded button on front.)
The only other instructions printed on the back reads "How to Deactivate Alarm." I veer away from this because once the unit is deactivated, it is dead, and must be replaced.
Finally, after searching for answers, I called Customer Service. The solution is simple. The tab by the Deactivate instructions, with a single downward-pointing black arrow, must be moved, not downward, but upward. Wouldn't you think they'd offer a clue? It can't be me. It's them!
Wednesday, April 3, 2019
Rent is due.
OK, Marie Kondo, not that you're so original anyway, but I'm trying. Though whenever I'm unloading a bunch of stuff, I try to exact a small payment as justification for keeping it all these years. In one case, a $3.00 refrigerator magnet out of a multitude of others. At present, I am giving away a large amount of old sheet music books and folios and pages. But I need just one small reward to rationalize why I've kept the stuff for so long.
Memories, nostalgia and musty reminders have no place in today's life style. And if I keep only those things that "spark joy," my house will be pretty much empty, and even the cat may be in jeopardy.
Memories, nostalgia and musty reminders have no place in today's life style. And if I keep only those things that "spark joy," my house will be pretty much empty, and even the cat may be in jeopardy.
Tuesday, April 2, 2019
Yep. That's Me As per Cheech & Chong
Today, while on the phone, the rep asked to clarify my email address, which is me.schroder@ gmail.com.
"Now is that "m" as in mary, and "e" as in elephant?"
Oh sure, that would be me, Mary Elephant. I suggested they choose another e-word. People are stupid.
And the word elephant does not start with the "e" sound. How about "e" as in education.
****Furthermore it's Sister Mary Elephant, substitute teacher. Just ask Cheech & Chong.
"Now is that "m" as in mary, and "e" as in elephant?"
Oh sure, that would be me, Mary Elephant. I suggested they choose another e-word. People are stupid.
And the word elephant does not start with the "e" sound. How about "e" as in education.
****Furthermore it's Sister Mary Elephant, substitute teacher. Just ask Cheech & Chong.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)