Welcome To My Igloo

With all good intentions yesterday, I did not get Stove stuffed to capacity and the house was a tad chill when Linda arrived in the afternoon.  Not cold enough for a parka, but we kept our vests on for comfort.

I had gotten waylaid by frustration with the television.  The NASCAR race was on and as big as the TV is, the picture was even bigger.  It's been an ongoing situation, but not critical until racing season began.  Stats and track position were way off screen to the left, and any subtitles down at the bottom were only half visible.  It's not like I haven't seen this situation with other televisions and I knew there was a way to fix it.  Back in the day when televisions were weighty behemoths, there were little hidden wheels to make vertical and horizontal adjustments.  I checked the new TV; no wheels.  I called the maker of the television and the nice lady tried to help without success.  She suggested I try my satellite provider.  Okay, and I put in another call.  After wading through the "Press 1 for English" menu and a relatively short wait, a young man in technical support came on.  "Press the star key on the remote."  There is a star key, but without any identifier I would have hesitated to push it, worried it might be a self-destruct button.  Following a few simple instructions, the problem was solved.  Ta da!  Until I could see the whole picture, I hadn't realized just how much I was missing.  Even without sound, I could follow Bowyer's progress.  He finished third.

Fortunately, I'd put dinner in the oven before the TV saga so Linda and I had a little time to converse and catch up before going to the table and it was a good visit.  She lives up above the snow line, so I wish her well on the roads this week.

Bess had a light sprinkle of raindrops on her coat when she came back in this morning, and I can hear real rain falling now.  Here we go again.  Welcome to my igloo.