Upon a Midnight Dreary

"...There came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping"
Well, it's not at midnight, but the sound is the same.
    It started sometime last fall and always at night, waking me from sleep. I hear the same sound: KNOCK, knock, knock.   Always 3 raps with the first the loudest. Once we had a crazy blue jay who used to pound on the side of the eave at the back of the house, but never at night. I know it's not the cat. She sleeps through the night.
   Now I know that my premise might be wong. I hear 3 raps that wake me up or so I think. But could it be that there were previous raps while I was still asleep. I don't think so, though, because the sequence is always the same, one rap followed by  pair of slightly quieter raps. It sounds like the sounds are coming from near the front door.
    I always get up to check. The first time I thought it might be Nellie, as she has knocked on my door occasionally, though never at night. Of course I look out the window to see if a vehicle of any kind is in the driveway or on the road in front of the house.  Maybe someone had a problem and didn't have a cellphone with them. Maybe the house is on fire, smoke somewhere that someone reported. Or, more worrisome, maybe some intruder is rapping to see if  I'm awake before he pushes the door in. That has happened twice before. No one was home, but I imagine the burglars knocked before breaking in.
   The rappings are infrequent. I would say about every other month or so. Last week, I was awakened to  the familiar series of raps. It was 2:00 a.m. KNOCK, and then knock, knock. I was so tired I didn't feel like getting up to check anything. I told myself that it was the same as the other times. Looking out the front window would accomplish nothing. So I lay in bed, but after a while, I had to get up to look. Nothing in sight in front of the house, cat sleeping on the top of the couch. Nothing to see here. So I went back to bed.
    But out of the usual mode, the same thing happened only 2 nights later. This time at 3:30 a.m.  I know it's not my imagination. I got up to check as always, nothing there as usual. I try to think; maybe that rapping is connected to the water softener booting up. Or the furnace getting ready to turn on. I don't know, have no choice but to go back to bed.
So I ponder, weak and weary.
     

Sunday Night

  What to do.   I heard thunder, saw some lightning. I'd finished the New York Times Crossword, wrapped up our State Tax Return, and was pretty much finished looking through the newspapers.The TV was on and I was sick of the news, clicked through the channels, and stopped when I heard music.
   It was Garth Brooks in some award show. I'd missed the beginning so wasn't sure if the show was a rebroadcast or what, as is common on PBS.  I was getting ready to go to bed, was almost finished with the papers, but Garth Brooks was a favorite of Dorothy's, and he is a most compelling performer, in spite of, or more likely because, he is rather crazy. So I watched, or listened, rifling through the newspapers., and getting sadder with each song.
   Every once in a while, I caught a glimpse of the audience; they were senior citizens, as expected, of  well-to-do appearance. I happened to look at the screen during one of the songs where the audience joined in. There clad in a rose-colored dress, on her feet, and joining in song, was a familiar face--Nancy Pelosi, grooving to American Pie.
    Once I realized what the function was and where it was located, it was a kind of Where's Waldo situation, recognizing a lot of political beings. I spotted Congressman Jim Jordan, and somebody who looked a lot like Paul Tonko, but I can't be certain.

Why didn't the turkey cross the road?

Back in the Day

Always my first spring bouquet:

Crying

  It seems to me that those who cry so easily and publicly or electronically are engaging in a type of self-aggrandizing therapy. Or else some media personages cry to raise the ratings of their shows. For an experienced performer acting as judge of one talent show or another to break down in tears and become emotional at a contestant's performance, vocal or otherwise, seems be beyond the  pall, as if they've never experienced real loss or tragedy. It's  a way to relate, I guess.
   Other regular ordinary people post that they were not only brought  to tears,  but to downright sobbing,  at the sight of cars being driven around the community to  support the unfortunate school children  who have been deprived of attending school----for, what almost 2 weeks now. The kids must be so uncomfortable, isolated with their families in the comfort of their own homes. And those kids have yet to live through summer vacation, where they are normally  out of touch with their teachers for 10 weeks. How they have  survived without the chance to wave to their teachers is an unsolved mystery.
   Teachers in Cars---With or Without Coffee. Maybe a new cable show.
As Ebenezer would say, "Bah, Humbug!"  And what a waste of gasoline.
** I must go dry my own tears now, shed after listening to Governor Cuomo's morning address.  The comparison is too  stark a reminder of what we lack in leadership of our country. Sob, or S.O.B.

Cortege-------sorta

  I completed both the Cryptogram and Cryptoquip fairly early today, and was looking out the window around 10:00 a.m. when I noticed several cars headed toward Johnsonville in close succession. I thought there must have been some obstruction down  the road that had caused the traffic to have built up. The cars continued to drive by. I noticed they had placards attached; some were decorated with balloons.  Then it came to me that I'd read about a movement on FaceBook where Hoosic Valley folks were to join a cavalcade as a  show of support to the house-bound students. There must have been 30 to 40 cars in the procession. Boredom bears its own consequences.

Post-script to Fault in Stars His Mother's Son

I was recounting to her eldest son an abbreviated version of M's telephone intervention. As soon as he heard me say his mother had difficulty with the conversation, he immediately offered, "She asked to speak to someone else, didn't she?"

Fault in the Stars...

   I'm not complaining, just recounting:
        It started with the tv in the living room not changing channels remotely. So I replaced those batteries, though they were fairly recent. The result was modest improvement.
        Last week, the fax machine refused to work. Attempts to rectify that situation resulted in malfunctioning of, in succession, internet, printer and copier. All but the fax have been restored, with considerable effort. But because I missed the opportunity to fax, I opened up a can of worms process that I'll have to deal with later on.  I needed to send some reports, and, lacking the fax option, I sought out and filled 2 pages of an online form. As I began to edit the text prior to submission, my too-fickle keyboard deleted the complete pages I'd typed. So off to the post office, enroute to which I not only saw my first robin of the year, but ran over it with my car.
   Suddenly without warning, a few nights ago, the tv in the bedroom conked out. I had removed  the batteries in the back-up remote to place in the living room tv, so it was a few days before I ventured out to  buy new batteries. I bought the batteries, and found my locked car would not respond to my remote key. It eventually responded reluctantly to the physical key.
   Home, I fiddled with the 2 remotes and the manuals in vain. Family members' efforts were unable to fully restore all  features. I found I can go to sleep without watching tv, and the quarantined host programming is fairly deadly anyway. Also without warning, the tv popped back on. The first night, though, I was unable to turn it off. So today, I turned it on early, and left it on, in case I want to watch it tonight. Maybe I'll be so bored I won't mind watching the cute children and gorgeous homes of tv stars.
 Last week also,County Waste rejected my trash offerings for prohibited materials, leaves.
   I don't bother much with store coupons any more, never was much into it. But I had a $5.00 coupon credit thing at Walgreen's and a $3.00 coupon for Ensure. Walgreen's was out of Ensure, but I bought the minimum $20. purchase the coupon stipulated. The clerk apologized but she was unable to ring it up; she didn't know why. Never mind--she tried. I brought my Ensure coupon over to S/N/S, where they did not have enough Coffee Latte Ensure, the only kind I drink. But I filled in with a Vanilla (Blah), brought it to the register, where the clerk couldn't figure out what to do with the coupon, had to call another worker over, while the people behind me in line were probably gnashing their teeth, but with the 6-foot social distancing, they were far enough away for me to ignore them.
   Last night, while I was trying to deal with some paperwork, the bulb in the lamp I was using  met its demise, one of those energy-saving spiral bulbs, which do not die quietly by the way. First one to burn out, as far as I can recall.
This afternoon, the telephone lost its dial tone. I was unable to call about what seemed an important matter at the time. I called Spectrum, where the recorded troubleshooting voice told me to unplug my phone to reboot, press star, and return . The phone abruptly disconnected. I called back right away. The recorded voice said sorry, but we're so overloaded with calls we can't even put you in the wait queue. Call back another time. The dial tone returned a while later, so Spectrum must have had a flare-up. I suspect with all the calls from work-at-home folks and online schooling, that overburdened phone lines might become a thing.
    My left ear still clogs up from time to time so I know I don't hear so well. I received my credit card statement last Tuesday, and saw an unfamiliar charge, with no explanation as to what it was. I called the number on the purchase line and asked what the charge was for. She gave me an answer, but honestly, I could not understand her at all. She spoke with a thick accent but I thought maybe it was my hearing difficulty, so I asked her to repeat--more than once. I told her we had a bad connection which prevented me from understanding. I thought the rep was saying "purple slippers."   That couldn't be.
      Here's  where the only humorous note comes into play. M. was in the bedroom, working to get my tv operating. She heard me repeatedly asking the rep to repeat. I couldn't get what she was saying. It was a struggle. M. came out of the bedroom, and, all efficient, took the phone from my hand and spoke to the rep. I heard her ask for repetition---more than once.Then M. says, "Can you spell it?"  Know that when/if a Hispanic person pronounces English letters, they can all sound alike. After several failed translated spelling attempts, I hear M's voice, from the bedroom where she had taken the phone:  "Is there someone else I can speak to?"  So I guess my hearing wasn't the problem in this case.

Garbage Out = Garbage In

Yep.

The first 2 pictures are my attempts to show some fairly large-sized fresh animal tracks outside my kitchen window. I know they don't show up , and I know such tracks expand when the snow starts to melt, but the tracks seem like those of some beast besides the usual chipmunks, and squirrels. The ruler measures the snowfall atop the county waste container.  5 inches

Bad Cess to 'em!

   About a week ago, the remote for the TV in the room would not allow me to change channels. So even though I'd replaced its batteries a short time before, I replaced them again. I have a full pack of AA batteries, but this needed AAA so I "borrowed" the batteries from the TV in the bedroom. Seems to function OK though not reliably perfect.
  Last week my fax machine refused to function. Various attempts to restore its function resulted in or coincided with complete loss of  use of all features. Gradually Tech Support efforts restored the Internet, the Printer function and then the Copier. Everything but the Fax, so I'm mostly satisfied.
   Last night I turned on the TV in the bedroom, or rather that's what I intended to do.  Alas, The TV would not come on. I replaced the batteries in that remote also; again I had done that around the holiday season. I had to stand on a stack of books to reach the top of the TV set, where the controls are. I can't see them  from that standpoint so I randomly pressed buttons. Finally, CNBC came on. That is deadly viewing so I turned the set off, the only viable option.  So now the TV is completely non-responsive. I remembered a while back, that to get it re-functioning I would need 2 remotes, Spectrum and Insignia. Sadly enough, the Insignia remote requires AAA batteries which I had removed to restore the living room TV. So I just went without the TV for the night.
    Today, I drove to the Corona-rumor-ridden S/N/S but could  not locate any batteries there. Next door at Walgreen's I found the batteries I needed.
    I returned to my car, which was locked because I'd parked in the Handicapped area, and a friend had warned me  that the Handicapped Hangtags are often stolen. For the first time ever, my remote key would not unlock the car doors. I opened the door manually, though inserting the key met with a little resistance, most likely due to its never having been used in such a manner.
  So I give thanks for what I do have---some TV access, Internet Access with Printing Function and a car that I can drive. What I don't have
is a second working TV, Fax Machine, Remote car entry. And, oh, as far as I know, the Corona virus.

Spring---Not much different from Winter March 22, 2020

I'd wondered why those orange cones were at the south end of the bridge---hope it's not a bad omen.

In the Hood---1 more day, 1 more Acorn

The Check

   Don't hold your breath (if you're able to).   That check probably will not be going to the poorest of the poor. Unless you pay in, don't expect a pay out.
  Just ask Andrew Yang.

Folded

My mother loved Kenny Rogers.

Acorns and the Chipmunks

  Last week, I used my super powerful Wind Tunnel vacuum to clean beneath the hood of my car. It sucked out all the winter debris, including a cache of maple seedlings.

    Today I raised the hood to check the engine, and saw a stash of acorns. Darn those chipmunks:

It's Springtime (In a small way

Shopping for Seniors 6-7a.m.

  Such a great idea---on paper. Senior citizens can shop at specially reserved times in many supermarkets. In theory, the shelves will be fully stocked, the store will have been sanitized overnight, and seniors will have the store mostly to themselves. An added benefit may be to extend this shopping feature to cover the flu season. That would of course add several more months to the program. Sounds good, until you think about the actual institution of such a program
    Those early hours are often dark as night, and the store parking lots pretty much deserted. The seniors arrive. They could look like easy prey to the druggies whose addictions stalk such easy targets, waiting to snatch a purse or two.The seniors, who are mostly women,  have canes, walkers, wheelchairs. Let's hope any accumulations of snow or ice will have been cleared by the maintenance workers.
    The shoppers have been awake for some time prior to their visit. They must adhere to their daily routines---medications, toileting, stretching to get the muscles moving. Some will have to clear the accumulations of snow or frost from their vehicles, which involves scraping and defrosting.And some will take public transportation, busses or cabs, or depend on someone else to drive them . That should pose no problem. "Must get to the store by 7---need groceries."
   These early-shopping expeditions are of course not mandated, not yet anyway. It's not likely that any carding will be in effect. Those who are not seniors could also shop at those times, I suspect. If the stores  re-stock their shelves with toilet paper, it's more than likely that word will get out and legions of rogue young shoppers will converge on the stores and elbow their elders out of the way. The stores will need added security officers, both to deter would-be muggers in the parking lots, and to protect against the youthful hoarders in the aisles.
   But then again, what age defines a senior citizen anyway? Hasn't AARP lowered the age from 50 to 45.
   So this might be a better plan:
          Break down the one-hour shopping window into increments.
              6:00---6:10  Ages from 90 to 100
              6:12---6:15   Ages  from 85 to 89
              6:17---6:20   Ages from 84 to 79
              6:22---6:25   Ages from 78 to 73
              6:27-- 6:30   Ages  from 72 to 67
              6:32---6:35  Ages from  66 to 61
              6:37---6:40   Ages from  60 to 54
              6:42 --6:45    Ages from  50 to 53
              6:47--7:00   The last 13 minutes would be open to those who missed their designated time slots. No penalties would be levied. Be advised that some of the senior shoppers may run over their designated times because they insist on deciding which of their reusable shopping bags be filled with certain items of groceries.   
 

Venturing---last stop of the day.

   I left the cemetery and decided to see what the Shop N Save had to offer. The other day, when cooking something, I noticed I was low on flour. I don't bake much any more, or at all, but I thought I would pick up some anyway. I was surprised to see that the flour shelves  were  bare, stripped of product in the same manner as the toilet paper, Kleenex and paper towel aisles. The sign on the shelf said "One to A Customer" but the sign sat alone.
   I like Sprite and usually buy the cartons of cans. The only Sprite left were 2 of the plastic bottle packs so I bought one.
   I had downloaded a $3.00 coupon for Ensure. I drink only the Coffee Latte, and there were none of those. A quick look into Walgreen's was the same; they had no Ensure at all.
   The bread aisles were mostly empty. The meat counter the same. I didn't need either, but I spotted a package of Hannaford Hot Cross Buns.  I bought a pack, hoping they would be at least as good as Price Chopper's. I've had 2 packages of those this Lent, and, though not as good as Entennmen's, I enjoyed them anyway. As I was walking down the aisle, I spotted what I had thought was not available any more---a box of Entennmen's Hot Cross Buns. I was going to get them, but I  already had the store brand in my cart, so I passed, thinking maybe next time. The store brand was $3.49 and the Entennmen's $6.99, and besides I know they are high calorie, which should rule them out altogether in my case.
   Not unforeseen, but I was soon to regret my decision. The Hannaford buns look appealing, and they have plenty of that ridiculously delicious white piped-on frosting, but they are soggy and, when bitten into, become a wad of soggy dough, way more so than even Price Chopper's. The worst part is I know I'll eat them anyway, and indigestion will ensue. ----Maybe I'll try toasting them...
 

Venturing Out in the Time of Corona

  I had a check to deposit so I dared to go out in the world. I am now a shareholder of Prudential, a result of my parents' purchasing life insurance policies for their kids at birth or shortly thereafter. I think the premium they paid was a monthly fee of 15 to 25 cents. I know my sister cashed hers out long ago, just to be done with it. I kept mine. Several years ago, the insurance aspect was nullified and all such policies were translated into shares of stock. Prudential encourages such pennyante owners  to surrender their holdings for a cash payment. There is no reward for them in having to correspond and maintain bookwork for measly amounts. But I remained in the stock market, so my few dollars is now somewhat less. I don't care, not enough to be concerned about.
  The trip to M&T went smoothly. I always use the window anyway.
My next stop was the cemetery. I wanted to tell my parents and  sister that this might be my last visit at the "ground level."  I try to think what their reactions might be to the present state of affairs, but I have no similar occurrence to compare it to. But maybe there is. My mother's older sister died in the  the Influenza Epidemic of 1918, the deadliest influenza pandemic in history (to date.)  Marguerite was 18 or so. The only media accounts then were  the newspapers, so daily living must have been a daunting and terrifying wait for what they could read about next. I know my mother, the epitome of courage and strength, was terribly frightened whenever any of us kids ran a fever. She would have been a young girl when her sister died, so that may have affected her for life. The cemetery today, the burial plots of my mother and sister, are still disfigured by a neighboring burial site which actually encroaches on my mother's grave. Despite numerous appeals to what is meant to be the cemetery rules facility, the situation remains uncorrected, amidst further deterioration.
     I drove to the bottle return to redeem the cans and bottles I accumulate in the trunk of my car. I have them ready when the weather permits and there is not a truck or two with about a thousand returns. As I stand before the machine, I'm always slightly bemused by the instructions to place the plastic bottles in GENTLY, such a polite and formal request for such a mundane event. I gladly oblige, though occasionally receive reminders about which end to insert first or to go more slowly.  I used to put the empties in  re-used plastic grocery bags, and when the opportunity presented, redeem the contents of several such bags. Now I keep an empty cardboard soda carton in the kitchen, and then dump its contents into a large plastic bag which I keep in the car trunk. And I re-use both. You're welcome, dolphins and sea turtles.
  *Continued in following post.

Hmm---let me think about it...

    Suggestion is for supermarkets to reserve some early hours for senior citizens to do their shopping---ahead of the crowd so to speak.  Probably a wise move, in light of the catastrophic virus and its toll specifically  on the elderly. But the  spokesperson further elaborated on that idea by saying it may also work well for regular episodes of influenza. That is a fairly extended time period.
    So the rationale apparently is  to further prioritize senior citizens in their access to grocery stores and supermarkets. Beware, though, of any governmental suggestion which seems to be Orwellian in nature. Suggestions can lead to recommendations which can lead to regulations. For added convenience and economy of preparation, the elderly can be identified and herded into the venues most appropriate for their ages. Oh, if parable we must, Freedom becomes Slavery.

Sidebar to History

   Expression I've never heard before---and I've heard a great many:
     "You're singing my sheet of music."   I"m very data-oriented.---Dr. Birx

Sad to say

     I had a medical appointment scheduled for tomorrow, a  follow-up for renal treatment. The appointment had been re-scheduled from several weeks before, because Dr. A. was sick. When I called today to re-schedule the 3-18-20 visit, the rep said  they had no appointments for me, only a note to contact me at the end of 2022. I asked her to check again because I'd probably be dead by then. She laughed, but then found the  office is to call me in one year from last December to schedule a CT scan and office visit.
       That's fine with me. I was sad to learn that Dr. A. is still out sick. He always seemed involved, friendly and active. I notice there are additional doctors in the practice. I wish him well.

Tower of Corona

  Reassurance stems from knowing an in-law relative consults another in-law physician, a self-described BAFERD".

*Bad Ass F'in Emergency Room Doctor

The Message, Not the Medium

   "I'm sorry that I messed up. Let's all try to work together to make this right. I regret the losses, but I'll try to do better.
      Clarification here also: this was posted before his address to the nation. And apologies to Marshal McLuhan.

Time and Its Warp

    There was another time. Dorothy and Gus had a Cuckoo Clock on the wall of their kitchen at 5 Charming Lane (Home to Arthur A. King, poetically enough.) The Cuckoo sprang out, calling its name, once on every half hour, and then as many times as were the hours. When Marilyn and David were little (B.D. before Danny), they were fascinated by the eruption of the Cuckoo. Knowing the time of a new hour was near, they would sit on  kitchen chairs in front of the clock, eagerly awaiting  the appearance of the magical bird. Sometimes if our visit was long enough, they would wait there for its single half-hour appearance too. 
    That seemed pretty high technology back in the 1970's, when the only other automation they'd been exposed to was probably Coke machines.

DST, Smoke Detectors and Vigilance

    The message is still to change the batteries in your smoke detectors when you set your clocks in accordance with daylight saving time. I have 3 Smoke/ Co2 detectors in my house now, but they no longer have batteries. They are sealed units which are to be discarded when they expend their lifetimes, about 10 years they say.
   But there was a time when all smoke detectors functioned on batteries. One such time was when our kids were college age. When M. began her junior year or maybe when she was a senior, she decided to abandon dorm life to live in an apartment house with 6 female roommates. It was a large two-story house owned and rented out by a college professor.  Being crafty, he rented it as a family residence, so avoiding certain safety regulations, such as emergency exits and such.
   I remember the day she left our house, excited to be living on her own, so to speak. Dave had borrowed one of his uncle's Colony Liquor box trucks and she took with her everything she owned---clothes for all seasons, what was then considered electronics, books, everything. My last memory of that trip is her saying good-bye holding her big old Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed animal in her arms.
   The trip out was uneventful. But one seemingly minor event almost certainly affected what was to occur just about a week later: 
         Everything was unloaded from the truck and put in place, carried upstairs because that's where all the individual bedrooms were when the landlord remodeled the old house into lodging for a "family" of 6 college students. The walls had been freshly painted shortly before, which was another factor in what was to ensue.
       As Dave was leaving the house for the ride home, he passed through the downstairs area and happened to notice a problem with  the one and only smoke detector. The cover was dangling open and the batteries were gone---no doubt "borrowed" for someone's radio or other device. Dave told me later he first laid  a ten-dollar bill on the kitchen table with instructions for one of them to go to the store and get batteries. Then he had the thought that with all the excitement that no one would go. So Dave actually drove the truck to the store and got the batteries, and returned to the house and installed them himself. And thereby hangs the tale.

 

Of Mice and ME

  To take my mind off the fact that I have only sporadic hearing in my left ear, I ventured  outside and noticed that the bulbs are emerging so I went to the she-shed to retrieve the rake. The mower is not there, so not much to attract the vermin, one would think. Last year, I tried every deterrent I'd ever heard of: repellent, steel wool, oils, spices, and poison and traps as a last resort. I'd even put some home-grown catnip in a margarine tub, thinking that might repel them, at least a little.
     When I opened the door to the mostly empty space, I noticed the catnip tub was overflowing, weirdly I thought: maybe mildew? I picked it up and stared straight into the face of a mouse.* It stood and glared at me, so I grabbed the tub and threw it outside. I suspect that since the mouse seemed to be standing guard over it that there is probably a litter inside the mass of its contents. I'm not going to look.
*  Some years ago, a similar event happened at Ann's house on New Turnpike Road. Dave and I were removing a mattress from a long-deserted outbuilding for disposal in the City Trash pickup unit you could reserve then. Dave grabbed one end of the mattress which was leaning against the wall, where it had no doubt rested for a number of years. I bent down to pick up the other, and came face-to-face just inches away from  the largest possum you could ever imagine. I'm not sure how many teeth a possum has, but they seemed oversized and arranged in double rows along a wide-open mouth, which was hissing and spitting. I screamed so loud that the neighbor heard me in her house.  The possum, obese and most likely aged, waddled slowly away toward where Matt had once planted a garden. It was a big fat possum.

Crocus today, Tulip later.

Crocuses (Croci?) from many years ago. Tulips are from Krystal & Danny's wedding.

The Fall in the Night

   Last night. In the bathroom. No, just the plant. It's been in the same location on the corner shelf in the bathroom for about 10 years. No one heard its fall in the night.  It's still lying there.