Charge!

I guess having warning is better than having the power just blip off, but I sure can't say it gives you something to look forward to.  It does, however, give me time to put everything chargeable on a charger, and that is helpful.  In that regard, I'm about as ready as I'm gonna get if they cut the electricity today.

Wednesday morning, while I was writing the blog (before the power went out), the phone rang about 5:30 a.m.  Who the heck would call at that hour?!  It was a robocall, but it was from the Sheriff's Department, and it was scary.  It was notification that there had been an active-shooter incident at Bucks Bar and Sandridge Roads (not so far from here), a deputy had been shot, and there was an ongoing search for one or more of the suspects.  "Stay inside, keep an eye out for strangers, do not pick up hitchhikers, and report anything suspicious immediately."  Wow!  Sadly, it turned out that the deputy had been killed and an off-duty officer from another department on a ride-along had been shot.  All this over a pot deal gone bad.  Very little happens around here that makes the news, and this was news that no one would want to hear.  I sure don't want another phone call like that again.

With all the precautions that PG&E is taking, they didn't de-energize one of the transmission lines up north, even knowing there was a problem.  How's that working for ya?  I've got relatives up by the Kincaid Fire in Healdsburg/Geyserville area, and can only wish them well.

It's been a long time since I've mentioned my totem, the lizard.  This closeup photo makes this little guy, about 3 inches long, look like a Komodo Dragon.  I was happy to see him on the outside of the screen door.  Michael and I are plagued by gnats when we go outside, and I hope the lizard got his fill.

My dance card has been full.  Arden came over yesterday and my son Dave is coming up today.  So far, so good with the power.  Life is good.

Flush!

Oh, the things we take for granted:  running water, television, cellphones, lights at the flick of a switch, coffeemakers, a microwave, the computer, opening the fridge and freezer at will, and flush toilets!  Between the last two outages, I've read approximately 1,600 pages, and was grateful for the diversion, as well as for the lantern that kept the darkness at bay.  That Melitta doohickey made a cup of real coffee in the morning.  Kathy V. kept in touch on my quickly dying cellphone, which I was able to recharge with some marvelous contraption in the truck.  I feel for Emmy in her all-electric house.  At least I have a propane stove.

When Michael and I took our morning walk yesterday, I heard rustling in the now-defunct garden area in the west field.  He and I were both startled when deer started bounding over and/or crashing into the fence.  There was a total of seven!  Probably because there had been no sound (other than an occasional generator) or lights in the area, they thought they could reclaim the property.  Michael's ears went up and he was definitely interested, but made no attempt to give chase.  Good boy, Michael.

I've been plagued with robocalls lately, sometimes six or more a day.  Unknown numbers show up on the wireless phones and I just don't answer.  That capability is not available on the landline phone I keep for emergencies during an outage.  Whatever happened to the Do Not Call list?

There was one particular call I did not like.  It was PG&E with a notice that they "may" (make that "will") cut the power again tomorrow.  Aarrgh!  One of the most frustrating things yesterday was that their reason for the blackout was because of high winds.  For two days, we had an intermittent light breeze.  Most of the time not a leaf stirred.

Arden is coming over today.  At least she'll be able to flush.

Waiting

Will they or won't they, and if they do, when and for how long?  This business of waiting for the power company to decide our fate is very disconcerting.  I'm about as ready as I can be, but there's always something unexpected.  It's nice to have the computer this morning, and the coffee tastes particularly good.

I made a to-do list yesterday that was a little bit different:  things to do that needed electricity or water and things (like dusting) that only needed people-power and could wait until the "dark days."  I actually got a few items crossed off.  Ta da.

Dave, the Animal Services guy, drove up yesterday.  Michael has been very good lately about not going walkabout, but my first thought was to wonder if someone had complained about him.  No, Dave was just paying a visit.  We had quite a lot of contact in the past and he's a good guy.  He met Michael and was impressed with his manners, as is everyone.  Dave is waiting for next June and retirement.  We had a nice chat.

I've added a flashlight to my pocket accouterments.  One just never knows these days/nights.  I'm waiting.

Plan B

Alrighty then, Plan B fell through.  The casino destination for Thanksgiving was already fully booked for early dinner reservations, and one thing I don't/won't do is drive after dark anymore.  We're back to a modified Plan A:  dinner at my house and I'll do the turkey, but everyone else is to contribute the side dishes.  (Hey, I'm not in charge.)  It should be an interesting menu, and will definitely be a surprise for me.

PG&E is planning to cut our power again, maybe starting tomorrow...maybe not.  I got caught a little short on bottled water the last time, so went to the store yesterday and bought a couple of gallons.  "They" said the outage shouldn't be as long this time.  We'll see.  They ran into a storm of anger after the last foofah and are trying to calm the waters on this go-round.  I put the servants to work and ran the dishwasher and did some laundry yesterday, just in case.  Maybe the Melitta coffee thingy will get a workout, too.  I stocked up on batteries when I was in town last time, and will keep the LED lantern and cellphone fully charged (I'm pretty good about that anyhow).

I had to leave Michael home yesterday; he's not allowed in the grocery store.  Service dogs yes, support dogs no.  For the very first time he seemed excited to see me when I got home.  At least he was waiting at the door and spun around (once) when I came in.  I took that as a positive sign.  I do get some hand licks now and then, and he comes to sit by me after he's had breakfast.  I do so want him to be happy here.

Another good thing about having Thanksgiving here...there will be turkey bits for Michael.

Break It Or Make It

Some of the Kids have suggested we go out for Thanksgiving dinner this year.  I don't know how I feel about that.  (For one thing, it means I'd have to leave home...again!)  I got married at age 18 and, with few exceptions, I've fixed Thanksgiving dinner every year since.  My mother was more than happy to abdicate that responsibility.  She didn't like to cook and I needed to learn.  There were a few times in the early years that we went to my sister's, but the Kids' dad wasn't happy with that because there were no leftovers.  As I've said before, we are so steeped in tradition that the menu on holidays has never changed.  "But, Mom, you can choose anything you want, and they're sure to have a turkey dinner."  It would certainly mean a lot less work, both for me and the Kids.  They always do the clean up afterwards and parcel out the take-home packages.  A consensus hasn't been reached yet.  I'll go with the majority.  Maybe it's time.

I did ask if I should still plan on making chili verde for Christmas.  "Of course!  It wouldn't be Christmas without it!"  Silly me.

Made It

Well, Michael and I survived the dreaded trip to town...mission accomplished.  It had been overcast all day and a chill breeze blew, so it was nice to be in a warm truck for awhile.  Foliage on the grape vines and forest trees are changing colors, making for a scenic drive.  It's never as bad as I anticipate, but I still can't work up any enthusiasm for going to town.

I'm curious, when did double yellow lines lose their "no passing" meaning?  I was going the speed limit on our narrow, winding country roads and twice yesterday some yahoo flew past.  I want a bumper sticker that says, "I'll pull over as soon as it's safe," because I do.  I've memorized every pull-out there is and will move over for even one car behind me, given the chance.  Ah well, can't cure stupid.

It's the darndest thing.  On my last two trips to Wally World, I've had to buy dog or cat food, the stuff that comes in those great big bags.  I'm at the stage where I go for the 16-pounders and hope the company isn't offering "four extra pounds for free!"  I'll admit I struggle with twenty pounds these days.  Let's not talk about 40-pound sacks of chicken feed; that's a comedy act.  But I digress.  After shopping, Michael and I get back to the truck and I start to unload.  On both occasions, some young woman has said, "Let me help you with that."  No kidding, perfect strangers!  My inclination is to say, "No thanks, I'll manage," but I honestly think it would be insulting to refuse an offer of kindness and I appreciate the help.  There are some nice people in the world...think of Neighbor Joe.

To end the day, I got a call from Larry in Hawaii and a report on baby Ozzy, who is home after a month in the hospital.  He is thriving and growing.  When you come into the world at about 3-1/2 pounds, you've got a lot of growing to do!

All in all, it was a good day.

Topsy-Turvy

In the long run it probably doesn't matter, but I feel the need to organize my life a little better, especially my sleep cycles.  Wake up before the roosters, slip in a bit of a nap during the day, get a little something done, fall asleep in the chair after dark, wake up around 1-2 a.m. because I've got a crick in my neck and two heavy cats on my lap (they think it's their lap), watch an episode or two of Golden Girls or Frasier, and finally go to bed for a few hours so I can get up and start all over again.  Maybe if I skip the naps....

Nature is on a roller-coaster, rising to the 80s and dropping to the 50s in a day (40s at night).  It's hard to keep up.  While I'm trying to use restraint, I did light another fire last night after my walk with Michael, just a few big pieces of wood, enough to take the chill off the house.  It's been so long since I've had central heat, but I can't remember if it felt as grand as when the warmth of the wood stove puts feeling back in your cheeks.

Well, I've prattled on about nothing long enough.  The trip to town is looming.  Aarrgh!

Or Not

First and foremost, Michael's malaise seems to thankfully have been of the 24-hour variety.  With such a low-key dog, I can't say he's back to his "perky" self (Michael doesn't do perky), but he's definitely and obviously feeling better.  Someone asked how I knew he "loves" to go in the truck.  Well, he doesn't dance or pull at the leash, but when we head out and I open the truck door, he doesn't need to be told to load up, but jumps in and heads to his favorite spot behind my seat.  That's about as demonstrative as Michael gets.

Yesterday morning I had a satisfying catch-up conversation with my friend Tinka, who had been out of state visiting children and grandchildren.  The trip itself had been fraught with plane delays and diversions, etc., which, in retrospect, were funny.  Tinka has more equanimity than I; I would have been frothing at the mouth and pulling my hair.

Hanging up, I gasped as I caught the shadow of a man moving about on the porch.  One thing Michael is not is a watchdog.  Had I been watching him instead of talking, I would have noted he was looking at the door, the only sign he gives that something of interest is happening.  The man was Neighbor Joe, who had brought a truckload of cut and split pine and cedar kindling from his place and was was stacking the porch rack for me.  He also hauled a big wagonload of the longer-burning oak from the woodpile to the house before unloading the rest of the kindling by the woodpile and tarping it.  The best help I can give is to stay out of the way.  I told Joe of an old saying, "You're earning a gold star for your crown in heaven," and that his crown would be pretty darned heavy for his many acts of kindness.

It had rained during the night and the day was chilly.  There was still time to get to town, but the house was cold and, really, there was extra wood to burn.  Why not?  That pine kindling had a good fire started in no time flat and the house began to warm up.  That was my downfall.  Having gotten up early, getting warm...by the time I woke up it was too late for much of anything but taking Michael for another walk.

There is enough cat food for one more day.  The milk in the refrigerator hasn't curdled yet.  Arden will be here this afternoon.  Town can wait.  (Any excuse is a good one.)

Today's The Day

Okay, no foolin,' I will go to town today.  After an inventory yesterday, I decided that if I was particularly frugal I could manage to hold off one more day.  I realize I'm near to being phobic about leaving home and there's no good reason; I just don't like to go (so there).

I actually did have a reason of sorts yesterday.  Michael didn't feel well.  He was pretty listless on our morning walk, tail and ears drooping, and he had no interest in exploring new areas as he usually does.  Because of this and the fact that he's been so good lately, I wasn't worried when he wanted to go out with me to feed the goats and chickens.  Yeah, well...he took off while I was getting the birdseed.  "Michael, NO!  Don't you do it!  Here to me!"  He looked back over his shoulder at me as he headed down the drive.  Rats!  He did come back.  He ate and drank a little, but for the rest of the day he slept on the bed.  That wasn't like him (he usually stays in whatever room I'm in), and I didn't want to leave him, nor did I want to take him to town.  Our evening walk was a two-piddle trip (his record is six), and he went right back to bed.  Hopefully, he'll be better today.

Ah well, like it or not, a trip to town is now mandatory.  Today's the day.

What's The Score?

If someone were to say to me, "Lady, it's all in your head," I would have to agree.  It usually starts every morning hearing "Please Release Me" (1949 song - I like the Ray Charles version) as I try to extricate myself from under the covers, hampered by the cats, those immovable lumps, on my legs.

Yesterday I moved on to "Dear Hearts And Gentle People" (another 1949 song) as I thought of the kindness of friends during the days-long blackout.  Kathy V. kept in contact by text, just touching base now and then.  I heard from Arden.  Harold had tried to call, but was having his own problems with his cellphone.  A couple of days ago, an unannounced vehicle came up the drive.  That's a rarity and a small cause for alarm.  Michael and I were waiting at the door when FedEx pulled up.  Cue the song, "The Wells Fargo Wagon" from The Music Man (first produced in 1957, the movie in 1962).  Kit had sent me a Melitta thingie that, hot water needed, would make a mug of real coffee should the power go out again (and it will).  I'd like to try it out, but will save it for the dark days.

The song of the day yesterday was by The Bee Gees, "Stayin' Alive" (1977).  The music was there, but the words had changed to "Puttin' It Off, Puttin' It Off."  I really needed to go to town, but just couldn't make myself go.  Michael, who loves to go in the truck, had to make do with a ride down to the big road with the trash.  I have no option now, so he'll get his chance today.

I guess (hope) that hearing music scores in my head is better than hearing voices.  I don't think I'll ask for a consultation on that.

Fooled Me

The thing is, "early" and "late" are just words to me.  There are things to do every day, but since a real "appointment" is a rarity, time becomes irrelevant.  Morning comes when I get up and night starts when the sun goes down.  However, even I know that 4:30 is a little too early.  I got fooled this morning by the oh-so-bright Hunter's Moon.  At the risk of displacing a pair of sleeping cats, the plan was to turn over in bed and in doing so I opened my eyes and raised my head.  Ohmigosh, it's late! It was as light as day outside.  Forget about turning over, get up!  Turning on the computer, I discovered it was all of 4:30 a.m.  (Note to self:  reset the dadratted bedside clock.)

Michael has taken over the duty of keeping me as close to a schedule as I need to have during the day.  When it is close to whatever time for whatever chore, he will come and sit directly in front of me.  "Hey, lady!  Pay attention here!  You need to do such-and-such now."  It's amazing how much guilt a dog can generate.

I do try to check the time before making a phone call so as not to disrupt someone more regulated than I during a meal.  My own mealtimes are pretty higgledy-piggledy.  I eat when I'm hungry.  (Dinner yesterday was at 3:30 in the afternoon.)  Michael is no help to me there, as he also eats free-choice.

Ralph is confused, probably wondering why we're up at this hour.  He pats my shoulder, I turn around for him, he goes back and lies down.  He's done this several times now.  Celeste had her breakfast by the light of the moon and went right back to sleep.  She's always been the sensible one.

Nary A Thought

Sitting here in the early morning dark, coffee mug in hand, waiting for inspiration...which is not forthcoming.  NASCAR, my Sunday staple, got rained out at Talladega after the first stage, so nothing to talk about there.  I did get to watch part of the Steelers-Chargers football game and was pleased to see the Steelers win.  All in all, it was a pretty low-key weekend, just not much in the way of blog fodder.

Michael has found the one game he likes to play, Beat Mom To The Porch.  I get a kick out of how he'll stop and look back over his shoulder to see if I'm still coming before racing off again, and his satisfied smirk (trust me, dogs can smirk) when he lies down to wait for me to huff and puff to the finish line.  I have never met such a serious dog ever.  He has absolutely no interest in any of the many toys in the house or birds in the yard.  I wonder if it is his natural personality or if it came with his training as a support dog.  He is a gentleman with any guest, sitting by their feet for awhile before going to lie in his bed.  No barking (ever), no jumping, no nothing that would cause me to say, "Michael, stop that."  It was kismet (and Florence) that brought this wonder dog to me at this stage in my life.

Why is it that, even knowing you've drunk the last of the coffee in the mug, you still have to look one more time, wanting one more sip.  The coffee's gone, I'm out of conversation, it will be daylight in another hour, and it's time to get a grip on Monday.  Whoop whoop.

Hey, Good Lookin'

"Whatcha got cookin'?" (Hank Williams, 1951)

I sure was glad the power came back in time for all the Saturday cooking shows.  Every so once in awhile PBS fills Saturday with something else and I am bereft.  I do so little cooking now, but the shows still fascinate me.  I watch mainly for inspiration and ideas, sometimes thinking, "Huh, not in a million years!," and sometimes, "Oh wow, doesn't that look good!"  I continue to watch Martha Stewart, not that I'd ever use one of her fussy recipes...way too many ingredients that she'll tell you can only be found on the internet, and way too expensive.  Yesterday she was making a standing prime rib roast and admitted that hunk of meat was over $100.  Once in awhile she has a useful technique I'll copy, like spraying Pam in a measuring cup before measuring syrup or honey.  That sticky stuff slides right out.  Rick Bayless teaches Mexican cooking, and there's a new gentleman who cooks Cajun style.  Lidia Bastianich is one of my go-tos and I have made some of her Italian meals with success.

And what did I have for dinner last night?  Raw baby carrots right out of the bag.  Go figure.

So It Goes

Well, it's been an interesting three days (seems longer).  I rolled out of bed Wednesday morning and, in the dark (turned out to be 5 a.m.), felt around to turn on the computer as I do every day.  Nothing.  Ah, it was then I noticed that the flashing red, meaningless numbers on the clock I haven't reset weren't blinking.  Oh goody, the power was out.  When it's dark up here, it's really dark...no ambient street lights, no nothing.  Hoping the cats had enough sense to stay out of my way, I felt my way down the hall to the kitchen.  Well, actually to the living room where I keep the wonderful LED lantern Deb and Craig had given me.  It, like the cellphone, is something I conscientiously keep charged at all times for just such an occasion.  Feeling much like the Coal Miner's Daughter (sorry, Loretta Lynn), lantern in hand I went in to see if I'd had enough sense to keep water in the teapot that stays on the stove at all times.  I had!  (Note to self:  refill the teapot.)  At least I could make a cup of instant coffee.  My friend Arden has made the early-morning trek down to Diamond Springs for her cuppa lo these many days.  There are those creature comforts we just cannot do without.

Happy that I'd done some spiffing before Linda's visit (it was so good to see her again), I wasn't too concerned about the house for Clay's arrival on Wednesday.  The baked albondigas I'd planned would take a little revision.  The stove top is propane, but the ovens are electric, so baked anything was off the menu.  The first stop for any visitor from the valley after the hour-plus drive is the bathroom.  "Hi, honey!  We're almost out of water, so don't flush."  Force of habit is strong, and he flushed.  So much for the little bit of water left in the holding tank.  Oh well.  Clay had been to the NASCAR race in Kentucky and made a side trip to Churchill Downs.  He brought me a wonderful souvenir coffee mug from the home of the Kentucky Derby.  We didn't need electricity to talk and had a good visit.  (The stove-top albondigas turned out fine.)

Water is a prime concern when the power goes out, not so much for me but for the animals.  I had bottled water out on the deck for just such a situation and was able to keep at least one of the bowls filled for the house critters.  The goats had plenty, and I could only apologize to the chickens.  It's interesting to brush one's teeth with a dry brush and no toothpaste.  I wouldn't recommend it.

It's the time of year when night falls early and sunup comes late, so there were many dark hours to fill in a silent house.  It's funny how one gets used to the little sounds of the refrigerator or freezer going on and off, and how quiet it is without them.  In three days, I've read two (big) books, using either the lantern or that great hard hat Craig made for me with the glowing headlights after dark.  Jeffrey Deaver and Stephen King are great companions.

Please, please, please, PG&E, let there be light.  Ta da!  Yesterday afternoon/evening, my pleas were answered.  Boy, that "real" cup of coffee tasted good this morning.

Thanks, Kathy V., for keeping contact.

As It Comes

I'm not necessarily in the depths of despair, but rather disappointed that I got a four this morning.  Oh well, three of a kind is better than a pair and one must learn to take the good when it comes.

I suppose the same could be said of the weather.  The rains (and my whining) will be here soon enough.  Cool enough for a turtleneck teeshirt in the morning, by afternoon I had the ceiling fan going.  Michael and I shuffle through the fallen leaves on our walks.  He was disappointed that he didn't get to go with me to the grocery store yesterday, the one place he isn't welcome.  They accept service dogs, but not support dogs.  As much as I hate shopping, I could use his support.

I spent considerable time going through cookbooks and mountains of loose recipes looking for albondigas (Mexican meatballs) before going to the store.  Of course I couldn't find it, so will have to wing it when Clay comes up.  At least I got the necessary hamburger.  I remember back in the late '70s that hamburger was fifty cents a pound on the mainland and being appalled that it was a dollar in Hawaii.  Now it is well over five dollars here!  I can't imagine what my son's grocery bills are on Oahu.

Speaking of Larry, his son Ozzy has all tubes and monitors removed and is doing well.  He is still in the three-pound range, but gaining weight daily.

One chore a day is about my limit anymore, and going shopping was it for yesterday.  I work better with a deadline on the horizon and so will spiff up the house today before Linda arrives.

'Tis The Season

I had been told that Michael had a sneezing problem.  He does.  He even came with a big bottle of allergy pills, although Florence said she hadn't noticed they did any good.  After my one disastrously failed attempt to give Michael a pill, I'd rather give him a tissue.  Being such a conscientious fellow, he cleans up any residue in the house himself.  He has more good days than bad, and he doesn't sneeze continuously, but in spurts.

It is the time of year when hot days alternate with cold, and I get a drippy nose.  Michael and I are quite a pair on our walks, both of us snorting and sniffing as we go.  It's a good thing we're not often in public.

We are having company this week.  Linda is coming by tomorrow; it's been ages since I've seen her and she has yet to meet Michael.  And Clay is coming up!  The change in weather has me thinking about cooking again, and albondigas are sounding better and better.  Clay is such a pleasure to cook for.

I got another five this morning!  A full house or, better yet, four of a kind are in the realm of possibility.  Hey, you take your excitement where you find it.

Comedy Club

The funny thing about cats is that they don't think they're being funny.  Ask any cat and they'll respond in a typical stoic way.  Ralph and Celeste, my own dynamic duo, crack me up all the time.  They play hide-and-seek, ambushing each other from behind the curtain in the shower stall.  That, in itself, may not sound very funny.  You'd have to know it is a clear plastic curtain to find the humor.

Celeste continues to herd me into the kitchen every morning for treats.  Now, however, she thinks any time I go in there should be treat time.  "Wrowr?" in her tiny cat voice.  "No, Celeste, you had treats already."  "Wrowrrr," (pitiful cry as she winds around my ankles).  "No, I said."  "Wrowr!"  Ralph lets Celeste do the talking for the pair, waiting around the corner to see if she's successful (and I'll admit sometimes she is).

Except for the one time Ralph slipped out an open door and panicked to get right back in the house, neither cat has been outside.  That doesn't stop them from threatening any bird that comes close.  It's one thing when it's a sparrow on the deck rail.  It's quite another when they "kek kek kek," tails flicking, at a huge turkey in the front garden.  They had a chance to practice their kill skills a while back when a praying mantis came in under the screen door.

Ralph seems to have a species identity crisis.  When he sits on my lap, he'd rather have his belly rubbed like a dog than have his back stroked.  In my experience, that's unusual for a cat.  He's pretty insistent about it, adjusting his body so my hand is in the right place.  Go figure.

(I got another five this morning, hoping for four of a kind,)

Company's Coming

Fridays are now known as Arden Days.  It's a good afternoon for both of us.  We share a snack, she gets her laundry done, we watch a couple of news shows that interest us, and, because company's coming, I get some cleaning done beforehand.  (I work better under the incentive plan.)  Yesterday's chore was the seldom-used guest bathroom.  Someone explain to me how a bathroom gets dusty, please.

This year is zipping by on fast-forward.  It occurred to me the other day that Thanksgiving is just around the corner and I am so not ready.  In an attempt to get a jump on prep work, I cleaned the ovens.  Okay, that's a pitiful attempt to garner praise.  I have self-cleaning ovens, so my "work" consisted of pushing buttons.  When Steve and I redid the kitchen, it was at the height of "guess who's coming to dinner (and how many)."  That's when we put in a six-burner propane stove and double ovens.  When shopping for the ovens, I found that the majority had a self-cleaning top oven, but not the bottom.  Does that make sense to anyone?  Half the work is still work.  Those appliances only get a workout now on holidays, but the holidays are coming.

I'm about due for a new microwave.  The much-used buttons are starting to malfunction and the door doesn't want to open.  I really can't complain as I've had it for over twenty years and it's done yeoman's duty.

I drew a five in the morning time card game.  I'd better hope to pair up or get a full house, because a straight would put me either way too early or too late.

Magic Mike

No, I'm not talking about Matthew McConaughey and other male strippers in that racy 2012 movie.  I'm talking about Michael's magical powers.  It's absolutely amazing how he draws people to him.  We were in town yesterday and clerks came out from behind their counters to meet Michael.  Women in the aisles stopped to pet him (I always appreciate that people ask first), ask about him, and tell me about dogs they've had in their lives.  More surprising still are the many men who do the same.  I mean, I've seen dogs before and admired them for their coats or behavior, but it wouldn't have occurred to me to stop their owner.  People just gush over Michael.

It's not just the admiration that makes Michael happy to go shopping.  There are all those bushes and trees in the parking lots and he has to visit every one wherever we go.  He goes through the motions even when the well is dry.

Michael has another, not so pleasing, magic trick.  He can disappear.  Hands full of bags to unload when we got home, I'd left his leash in the truck.  When we headed out for our evening walk, I went one way to get the leash and Michael headed off in the other.  "Michael, don't you do it!  Get your fuzzy butt right back here!"  "Lalalala.  I can't hear you," and just like that, he vanished.  In due time (Michael's time) he came back.  Doggone dog.

It's very liberating not to have a clock in the bedroom.  When the power blipped the other day, of course it set the clock to blinking and I just haven't gotten around to resetting it.  I'm used to waking up in the dark, but try to hang out in bed until 5 or so.  Three-thirty seems ridiculous even to me.  The last few days, if I'm tired I go back to sleep.  If not, I get up.  It's like drawing a card in poker to find out what time it really is when I get to the kitchen.  Today I drew a six.  Ta da!

In Training

Just as I often wonder who's in charge here, now I'm wondering who is training whom.  Michael is so bright.  He learned my haphazard schedule in no time, and now he's teaching me.  He is such a quiet dog, I have to pay attention to his signals.  He never demands, but he does give persistent clues.  Should his bowl get empty, he moves it about on the floor for me to hear.  "Hey, lady, how about some service here."  I'm lucky in that Michael is a late sleeper, giving me time to fool around on the computer (I call it taking care of business), but when I dress and go out to the living room, he's ready to go outside.  The only way I know this is because he goes to sit by the front door.  If I should ignore him, he moves over to the other door, more in line with my vision.  "Hey, lady, pay attention!"  Using this technique, he now has me going out at least three times a day and we're logging over a mile altogether.  Whenever we go outside and he's not on the leash, if he's not gone down the hill, as soon as we get back in the house he gets a treat and a lot of "Good boy" praise.  That's all well and fine, but Michael has been training me to also give him a brisk butt scrub as soon as I sit down.  The outing isn't complete for him without that.  Okay, I'm learning.  Bess Anne and I had shared a meal (small bits for her), but I had intended not to do that with Michael.  Yeah, well.  I found out last night that he likes roasted Brussels sprouts as much as I.

Michael has kept his sense of humor well hidden, but bits and pieces are starting to creep out.  He really seems to enjoy beating me (every time) in our race back to the house.  I'm getting my reward in tail wags, which he hadn't done before.  The other day he even ran around in the house, not enough to play Catch Me, but it was the first spontaneous play he'd done here.  I'm getting hand licks now when he's happy.  That makes me happy, too.

The Hurrier I Go

As Lewis Carroll's White Rabbit said in Alice In Wonderland (1865), "The hurrier I go, the behinder I get."  Fits me to a T.  Should have paid bills the day before, but wasn't up to it after the mess with the, as Kit called it, Docusign, so I tackled that onerous chore yesterday.

I have used online banking for years.  Given that our local post office keeps erratic hours and the price of stamps these days, online is a simple process.  A check that had been sent to one of my payees by the bank had the wrong address and was returned to me!  When I checked my statement, I also found that an automatic deposit made every month from an investment company had not been made.  I believe I mentioned a while ago that my computer had suddenly chosen to enlarge the visible screen.  Well, looking at the statement, all I could see in the right-hand column were minus signs with the amounts in red.  Red to me means "in the hole" and that I was overdrawn (which has never happened).  Aarrgh!  I was in a right panic by the time I called the bank.  The nice young man couldn't explain the payee mistake, but he was, calmly, able to ask if I could shift the computer screen to the left to see the entire page.  Of course I could, and would have if I had not been in such a froth.  The second call was to the payee company to explain the foofah and why my payment was late.  "No problem, just send another."  The third call was to the investment company, left a message, and, rattled though I was, went about the business of paying bills.  When that gentleman called back, he couldn't explain either, but said he'd fix it immediately.  Oh goody, please do.

I'd no more than finished with the monthly task when "blip!" the power went out.  Really?!  With a clear blue sky overhead, I felt I was under a dark, dark cloud.  I was going through my mental checklist for life without electricity (not my first rodeo) when the gremlins in force said, "Let there be light," and the clocks started blinking.

"Come on, Michael, we're going for another walk.  I don't know about you, but I need one!"  I hauled a wagonload of firewood to the porch.  It had been the coldest day yet and I was frozen.  There is that blissful moment when Stove starts throwing out heat and you realize you can feel your cheeks again.

I can't say it had been a good day, but it had a happy ending.

Falling Behind

Being President of Procrastinators Unanimous has its drawbacks.  There were papers that needed to be signed for the dreaded change in home insurance.  They were slow to get here by snail mail, so my "support person" at the insurance company sent them to me by email.  "Get them back to me by Friday, Monday at the latest."  It doesn't do to extend any deadline for me.  Of course I waited until Monday to pull them, print them, sign in umpty-ump places, and scan them for return.  Oh, wait.  I've evidently not needed to scan anything since the change to Windows 10 and the connection with the scanner was not lost...I just couldn't find it.  I even downloaded a new app that, as they said, should have worked.  It didn't.  Panicked by this time, I called and explained that I was failing computer and I'd bring the papers in.  "You don't need to scan them.  You can sign them right on line."  "Really?!"  (Who knew?)  Back to the computer which, by this time, was not my friend.  "Just click where it tells you and follow the directions."  Uh huh.  I got as far as finding the right place to "enter name" (that's all it told me), tried to type in my name, and nothing.  Aarrgh!  I called back.  "Can you talk me through this?"  "Yes."  Again I found the right boxes.  "Just enter your name."  "Nothing is happening."  "Just hold the left key down on the mouse and write your name."  Take my word for it, there were no directions to do that.  Mission accomplished, I sent off the documents.  Technology is forging ahead and I am definitely lagging behind.

I have the same sort of problems with the change in the television receiver.  The new remote control can do things the old, simple remote could not.  My problem is that neither the computer nor the receiver came with directions.  I can follow directions but without a manual, I'm left to founder on my own.

Michael and I took three walks yesterday.  We both needed to be out in the fresh, brisk air.  The rain had stopped by daybreak.  Michael had business to take care of, and I needed to decompress after the trials of the morning.  At least I can keep up with Michael now.