Now here’s the poop!

 Living in the arid rocky hill country is my paradise. Well usually. Yes I love the sunshine, mild winters and blistering hot summers. My most recent dilemma does not relate to the weather I love, though I offer it as justification for living in a community where underground utilities create unique challenges. On a street that offers up and downhill slopes viewed through my kitchen window, drainage of household waste requires assistance. Prior to establishing this residence, we had never lived where conscious thought was even required about where the flush and drain deposits traveled.

Cursory education for new inhabitants involved discussion of the little box on the side of the house. The gadget inside would be the harbinger of malfunction, should our grinder pump fail. Each home boasts of it’s own sewage grinder-lift station to be absolutely sure our poo and dirty dishwater leaves as it should. Cautionary tales about the cost of repair or replacement left us aghast. We made sure to avoid financial disaster and paid for the upgraded “diamond” plan when obtaining our home warranty policy. Noting the red flashing light on neighbor’s control boxes left me with relief that ours continued to do its work, UNTIL my neighbor called about nine pm with news that mine was flashing! 

Drama in the days that followed tried my joyful spirit. In fact, my cranky old lady persona reflected my inability to flush toilets, run my shower, dishwasher or clothes washer. The assigned plumber arrived unexpectedly. I happily welcomed them, but alas the relationship went sour quickly! I was told a septic tank pumping specialist would need to come remove the vile liquid before diagnosis could be completed. That was the news after I made a trip to the ATM to obtain cash for this service provider requiring a cash only version of my co-payment. They drove away leaving me looking at my still flashing red light, googling “septic tank services”. A call to the warranty company was unhelpful. The claims agent told me they did not provide that service, but when completed, an additional visit from the plumber would not require an additional co-payment! Why was I not comforted With that news!!!

The following day a delightful young man came out in a big truck with a long hose to drain the 37 gallons of sewage from my tank. He apologized for collecting the “thousand gallon minimum” fee, after calling his boss to attempt to negotiate a lower cost. I appreciated the five percent senior discount, acknowledging silently that I wouldn’t want to do his job at any cost. He drained the tank, reset the pump, ran the grinder and the pump through the paces, had me flush both toilets and run copious amounts of liquid down my drains. The red light was no longer flashing and he proclaimed my grinder and pump functional. He was here less time than the lazy plumber had spent in my drive awaiting my retrieval of cash payment! 

After fretting and stewing overnight I called the warranty company with my “never mind” about sending a plumber back out. Conversations with neighbors revealed that the plumber used in their repairs had arrived, drained the tank and completed the repair or replacement without the need to recruit a septic pumper! The claims agent I reached on that call listened patiently to my tirade. Yes, the plumber should have drained the tank and included the charge for that in the bill. The huge pump truck was certainly overkill for my tank. Though not covered on it’s own merit, I might be eligible for reimbursement since it did accomplish my initial purpose. 

Positive response soothed my attitude. I had a choice. A check would be dispatched in six to eight weeks or on-line gift card of my choice could be used immediately. Being sufficiently cranky, I chose the Visa Gift card to be mailed the following day. Hardly anyone waits for a check these days, and my disgust in this event began with a service provider refusing to accept a  check!

Zoom

School is beginning everywhere, but nowhere as it was. Public schools and universities are hosted by teachers via zoom classes. Now there is a new noun or adjective. In the past zoom was used as a verb to denote moving something quickly(i.e. Cars were "zooming" by on the street). In the new context, it is a virtual meeting by internet from multiple locations. We will see multiple faces on a screen in an effort to share and learn during isolation. 

Just so you know, I find this method of meeting lacks a full experience for learning, visiting or sharing information. That could be the result of my inept technological ability, however I find grumbling on many fronts. Clearly I am not alone in my frustration.

I write this missive today in hope that months from today this period will be only a sad memory, reminding me that I was blessed to survive these weeks.

Puzzled

For years balancing my incoming to outgoing funds was a constant challenge. Ol’ Abner watched my spending by snooping through my checkbook in early years, then on line once the bank account was available for digital interaction. It was a “back of my mind” concern that I might overspend. He kept that concern front and center, exaggerating the size and frequency of my purchases.  When he was no longer able to be the watchman, I embraced the fitting of the finances into a monthly puzzle usually finding a few excess spaces available for the next months. He left me sufficiently funded to live worry free well into my old age. 

That was before this pandemic threw a wrench into every process. Now I find myself with no extra pieces, but many gaps in the puzzle to be completed. This is a terrifying circumstance for me, though I know we were often here in younger years. Today I am on my own as I search for those missing pieces and pray that they will come in time. As I look to the future, the word “normal” has no meaning. I must view this as a “new adventure” at a time in my life when I had least expected. Boring was never my pleasure, but I must pray that I am up for this level of excitement. Now, let me search for even a tiny piece of this puzzle of $$$.

Scramble and Stop...Now Go...Not!

My technological skills are gone, not old and out of date, not rusty, not tired, just GONE! For nine months I have intermittently attempted to pair my camera to my phone. The divine little gadget that made my photo uploads such a joyful experience while traveling last summer took a devious dump in the fall. Every attempt to load those photos met with resistance. I'm sure you know the script. Update software, remove software and reload, check for adequate battery power, turn devices off, now turn them on. Nine months of frustration and I asked for help. DIL met me at the office yesterday and finally figured out the problem.  "Firmware" must be updated. Sounds simple enough, but cannot be done through my phone.  I need to connect to PC with my cables.  Oh those? Hmm, where are they? Found them this morning circa 6AM. Didn't need them after all. Update can be completed via the SD card in the camera. .

Were I to possess one iota of techno skill, all would be well.  I do not, and it is NOT. Reading instructions carefully, setting up a file to save uploaded update, finding said file and attempting to move the update exe file to it, trying to run the update from whatever file it now resides, trying to move it to SD card for loading in the camera,  try again. My PC now owns four maybe five copies of the update, my poor little camera still has not seen it!

In the midst of a pandemic, our world has ceased as once we knew it.  Taking the camera in to a camera store for assistance is not an option.  We have few options, or I should say very different options these days. I should probably be grateful that this is my only trauma. I am healthy and know very few people who have suffered with this vile disease.  After years of enjoying life with a masked man, I now proudly wear one as the perfect fashion accessory. I miss regular interaction with groups of friends, eating in restaurants, and live church services in person. I shall survive, my camera may not!