Crime Doesn't Pay

    Yesterday we received an official-looking letter from New York State Department of Taxation and Finance.  That can't be good news, I thought, as with trembling hands I slit open the envelope.  My fears were confirmed.  It was for taxes due.  For the tax year 2012.  That was the year I had to file and claim for an estate as well as ourselves.  I did my best, but the IRS found I owed slightly more than I'd paid. I didn't even try to figure out where the discrepancy was, just paid the additional amount, no problem.
   But the New York State Taxation Department never rests and is not to be denied.  They received notification that the IRS had adjusted our 2012 return, thereby affecting the amount we owe to NYS.  Therefore, they recomputed our NY tax to include the federal changes.  The Tax amount of the adjusted amount owed is $40.00 + $8.99 Interest.
   Our choices are to pay, which speaks for itself;  to disagree, for which there is a form and which must happen by Jan. 18, or else subject to collection actions; or to not respond, which will result in additional interest and additional penalties.
    Since the letter points out that there is no time limit when NYS may send a bill for additional tax in such cases, I think we'll just go ahead and pay.  We have until January 16, so I'm confident I can come up with the $48.99 by then.

Childhood Connection

A poem by Naomi Nye, found while looking through my child's Baby Book:
        "Supple Cord"
   My brother, in his small white bed,
   held one end.
   I tugged the other
   to signal I was still awake.
  We could have spoken,
  could have sung
  to one another.
  We were in the same room
   for five years,
   but the soft cord
   with its little frayed ends
   connected us
   in the dark,
   gave comfort
   even if we  had been bickering
  all day.
  When he fell asleep first
  and his end of the cord
 dropped to the floor,
I missed him terribly,
though I could hear his even breath
and we had such long and separate lives
ahead.

Season in the Sun

    I just came in from raking the yard, the area where the peonies are.  The irises look as if they want to grow, and the daffodils have sprouted up an inch or so. And the red peony shoots, which typically wait awhile, are also making an appearance.  I hope they recover from the inevitable.  Meanwhile, I think I'll have minimal raking to do this spring---will anyone want to go shopping?  Lunch?

The Chip----Ahoy.

     I know it's for our own good, and maybe it's effective, but that chip which is now installed on our credit cards can be problematic.  At Stewart's, it would not accept my card with chip at the gas pump so I couldn't pay outside.  At some registers,you must swipe your card first and then the section with the chip.  At other registers, you  need to insert  only the chip section.  But worst of all is the dialog that goes along with the credit card chip.  If you've paid this way, you know what I mean.  Innuendo, double entendre.  (I know I'm not the only one.)

That Sinking Feeling

    I hate to make mistakes, especially those that cannot remain concealed.  Recently, I sold an item on eBay, an item that had been relisted.  I could not find it. Because of large objects having been delivered to my house, things have  been packed and moved and redistributed all over the place. Anyway, I searched for 2 days trying to find a certain book.  To no avail.
    My first inclination is to avoid the computer where the issue lies. Though it demands some action on my part,  I don't want to face it.  I evaluate my feelings---that I am disorganized, incompetent, stupid, clumsy, careless, embarrassed, incapable.
   I appreciate that this departure from the norm  is between only myself and one other person, who seems not to be very concerned. A trifle really.
   I am so grateful that I am not Steve Harvey.
     

Nothing is simple anymore...is it?

     Yesterday, on a Wednesday, after my chores and responsibilities at home were taken care of, I drove to Clifton Park to see if I could do a little shopping.  I knew it could be an aimless pursuit but thought I might find inspiration through browsing.  I walked into a few of the smaller storefront shops, but left empty-handed. Then down the sidewalk a bit to Marshall's.  It was super-crowded at mid-day in mid-week.  Giving up on inspirational purchases, I got in my car and drove to Joseph A. Banks.
    I was interested in buying a sweater.  A single sweater.  One.  The sweaters were on a shelf, front and center of the store.  I know the store is rather pricey; the pricetag says  $109.  That is for one sweater, but wait.  The sign on the display reads, "Buy One, Get Two Free."   The last time I saw that type of deal was at Price Chopper, and I ended up paying full price for each of two English muffins because I had picked up only 2 packages instead of the 3.
  I'm anxious to buy something, so my rare day of shopping won't be a complete waste, so I have this thought.  I'm not sure of what size sweater to buy, so if I buy two  different sizes, one should fit, and the other could be returned.  I'm not even thinking about the third sweater by now.  I don't want to do anything even borderline sneaky, so I share this strategy with the clerk, and ask what the return policy would be.  She said the refund should be one-third of the price I paid, and she would give me gift receipts.  That seems okay with me, so I say I'll take the deal--3 sweaters, 2 sizes.  As she's checking me out, she asks me if I want to enroll in their customer-some-program-or other.  I politely decline, saying maybe some other time.
    Another salesman approaches the desk.  The store is not busy at all, with only one other person there, possibly a customer, or maybe an employee. He  sees my charge of $118 being rung up on the register, and says if I spend another $25, and enroll in the program, the last purchase of the $25 will be free.  All I have to do, he tells me, is provide my name and address.  OK, I say, and give that information.  Now, what can I buy in this store for $25?  I knew the answer to that.  The helpful rep showed me to the socks display.  The lowest three-pack of socks sold for $34, but since they were on sale for $24, I would need to buy two packs to qualify for the free $25.  By now, I probably would have bought the Brooklyn Bridge, so I'll take 2 packs, I tell him.
   My 3 sweaters are on the front counter where the first rep has neatly folded them.  The second rep brings the 2 packs of socks to the same area.  While I submit my credit card (that damn erratic chip), the second rep puts my purchases into one of their large shopping bags, and slides 5 gift boxes into another of the shopping bags.
    I put the 2 large shopping bags into the trunk of my car, and I'm so exhausted when I get home, I just leave them there.  I look at my receipt.  I paid $119.38 for 3 sweaters and 6 pairs of socks.  The receipt reads, "You saved $251.60."  That's not too bad, I tell myself, even if SNL does make  fun of it. And if they don't work out as gifts, I have receipts: gift receipts and original.
    This morning, I woke up early and retrieved my purchases from the trunk of my car.  One shopping bag held the 3 sweaters and the 2 packages of socks.  The second shopping bag held the 5 gift boxes, and, at the bottom of the bag, a pair of jeans with the pricetag of $89 and a plaid shirt with pricetag of $79.  I will return  them, but not until my next trip, I'll tell them.
 

Yay!

Am getting my washer repaired!