Sunday, April 28, 2013


The Sunday Morning Muse, April 28, 2013

It was supposed to be pretty easy. Buy a TV, plug it in, turn it on.

Not anymore.

Back in the Leave it to Beaver Days it was that easy. Unless you count the time adjusting rabbit ears.

A week, and several dozen attempts to adjust the color from several different screens, and a tangled mess of trying different coax cords, plugging in various other things into it and such, I am left with the task of packaging the whole mess up, taking it back and resigning in defeat.  If there is way to make this TV look as brilliant and vibrant as advertised, I'll be damned if I can do it.

I see now the light pinks and purples on the horizon just before sunrise out my window. I can't help but wonder how this inferior, dull, fuzzy TV would capture the experience.  I hope I get no hassles on the exchange. But wait, I don't want an exchange. I want my money back to go try another. In search of...perfect color.

In Search Of. I just remembered that show. My dad and I used to watch it. BigFoot,  The Swamp Monster...Good Grief, that link I just shared has most of the shows!   Leonard Nimoy narrating. Wow.

A distraction. Okay, moving on. Speaking of old TV shows, Allan Arbus died this week. Sidney Freedman on MASH, he was 95. That puts him in his mid 60's when he was on MASH. I really enjoyed the shows he was in. He played a  psychiatrist who was called in for special cases, and his sense of humor and humanity came through so well, it made it hard to think he WASN'T a psychiatrist in real life. Alan Alda reflected this week that between scenes he would talk to Allan and ask him questions and Allan would say "How would I know? I'm not a psychiatrist!"

I recently saw the episode with the best quote from Freedman ever:  "Ladies and Gentleman take my advice! Pull down your pants and slide on the ice!"

MASH was one of the shows I had on this week when I was futzing with the new TV.  Kinda hard to adjust the color though when so much of the set...and costumes were green. On my TV the faces were green, too.

Whoop Dee Do

Saturday, April 27, 2013

All Things Remain In God

A W. B. Yeats poem set to music. A nice song to start the day as sunrise is not far away.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

The Sunday Morning Muse, April 22, 2013

Hello Sunday morning.

Sun is drying out the just opened but now frozen in place tulips. Sad. I think they will survive though. I have sixty of them along the rock wall...and more in the other flower beds.

Second cup of coffee with a slice of Finnish Bread. Yum.

It's Earth Day. How about a nice quote from John Muir:

“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.”

Looks like the sun will be out a lot today and I can be outside away from the TV. Now that the other Boston bombing suspect is in custody perhaps the media will calm down and go back to obsessing over the North Korean dictator or the fertilizer plant explosion. It will be a welcome change from the wall to wall live coverage of reporters getting in the way of emergency responders. Not to mention the repetitious,  idiotic comments and speculation in lieu of hard facts. I couldn't stand it anymore and shut it off pretty early on.  A particularly low moment was when Brian Williams, during the evening news cast "cut" to the live feed of the local broadcasters covering the "lock down," and the "reporter" was immediately heard saying "We don't know *hit."

Makes you yearn for Walter Cronkite.

That's the way it is.

You are Here

Saturday, April 20, 2013

I Have Finally Come To Realize

It's in the doing...that we find a certain way we can live our life and obtain some peace of mind.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Thursday Morning Muse (rare)

The sun is up and the second cup of coffee is on the way.(I have switched to decaf tea for rest of day...morning coffee is still the standard drink though.) Home again today with a bug. Been sick for enough days now that the gig is up and the doctor visit is scheduled. Really, too much to do. Ain't nobody got time for that!

On the couch with the hot water bottle yesterday watching the news. Letters with ricin possibly in them sent to the White  House. Sheesh. They went on about how poisonous the seeds are and how someone can die by ingesting just a tiny bit of it.... and of course there I am with my stomach all upset and pepto bismal by
my side remembering just this past weekend I was planting castor bean seeds to grow the big beanstalks again this year.

Hmmph.  Well, I'd be dead by now if it was something from that.

It was more likely the "bad" turkey I ate this weekend or some random stomach virus going around making havoc with my innards.

I really need to research the plant better. It does say on the package they are poisonous, but they make castor oil out of castor beans and people eat that. Not with any pleasure mind you, but it is ingested by humans. So how does this all work?

On the news report they said you could eat a castor bean "whole" and it would go right through you with no
problem, mostly. is in the "processing" that it becomes so bad.  I have no idea what they do to process it and I don't want to know. What I do know is that it is a beautiful, tall beanstalk with huge leaves
we have enjoyed around the yard for more than 40 years. How could something so beautiful have become so terrible?

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Sunday, April 7, 2013

The Sunday Morning Muse, April 7, 2013

A Grave Situation.

A sliver of moon out the window in a clear spot just outside the edge of  heavy dark blue clouds this morning.

Tuxedo cat nudging my hand on the keyboard wanting attention.

Where to start? That awful cemetery. The one I got pissed at for the horrible ruts in the road and the frisbee like scattered wreaths, etc. called and said they are "updating their records to computer" and need to talk with me.

I wasn't born yesterday. My response:  "No one is coming to the house. I will gladly stop by and update and sign something, but no one is coming to the house to sell me anything."

So I agreed to stop in during my lunch period.

At the appointed hour, I met a fellow who looks like the type who answers ads in the classifieds looking for people to sell cemetary plots. Tall and thin and a bit unkept, with bad breath, a dingy office.  Broken chair.

I refused to sit in it.

He got me another.

I kept a straight, poker face as he went through privacy policy papers, checked the power of attorney papers, updated addresses and contacts and such, and then he moved swiftly to grab a Family Planning Guide... ( Making Clear Decisions Today!) booklet and began praising the book's usefulness (67 steps to planning a funeral.)

I'm not happy now. Still have a straight face. I am not planning a funeral on my lunch hour today. This guy
doesn't even know how I'm going to explode in about 5 minutes and then go pick up soup and take it back
to work and eat lunch. Lunch is really what I'm thinking about right now. Does the drive-thru church soup
place have any Stuffed Green Pepper Soup left?

I let him go page by page, droning on through the Importance of Insurance Policies and Death Certificate Information....and then he flipped over a paper at the end, tucked in, hidden away.... dramatically covering
one half of it. The paper showed the Total Costs I would have to pay if my mother died...YESTERDAY.
He said it with the drama of a to make costs DISAPPEAR!  And then he moved his hand over....and showed me the other column....almost three thousand dollars cheaper.... ($2000 savings on the casket alone!)

But there's a catch....always a catch. Waiting...waiting for it...

If I take advantage of this savings...which is ONLY GOOD TILL MONDAY!

What the *uck?

And did I know of anyone ELSE that would want to take advantage of such a great opportunity?

NO. I said. I don't.  Because this place is a mess.

He unleashed the dragon. I became a raving woman. Going on about the road and my almost blown tire....and frisbee thrown wreaths...the grass cutting mess...and the whole sordid tale about the future grave of my Aunt all torn up and headstone askew, who took advantage of a "half price" vault sale in the fall!

What IS IT with this place?????

Bottom line is it was bought out by a Canadian company who owns a multitude of cemetaries....and basically the locals have no control at all over the clean up and care of the place. Yeah, he gets lots of complaints. Nothing he can do. Turn in work orders. Hope they do them.

There is a plot in the Holy Rood section of that cemetary where my dear dad was laid to rest, and I will care for it and someday mom will be next to him. But that extra plot? That grassy little empty space near them?

Will never hold the moldy oozing remains of my carcass. Ever.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Mini Irises in My Yard

The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day.
~Robert Frost

The Secret Language of Birds

I found this song on YouTube this morning. So appropriate. Sitting here, window cracked open, listening to the birds.