Grieving Gardener

Wookie and Oliver are a pair. Not only are they color coordinated, their personalities are a great match. Their combined energy allows them to run, roll around on the lawn, dig, bark, and run some more. They play themselves into a ball of teeth and fur over and over again. Then, they sleep.

I, on the other hand, am fairly shredded by this extended sleep over. This has been an experiment in how fun it is to have two dogs. It’s different and it definitely benefits the dogs.

Wookie is a Diva. She has her own bed, but prefers the center of mine. She uses her soulful brown eyes to make sure that she gets at least one bite of every one of my meals. She uses her diversionary tactics to blindside Oliver. Her sense of humor is hilarious, especially when she laughs at her own jokes.

Oliver is a guy. He loves to eat, chew on his bone, and sleep. I can see that he’s aging (just not fast enough). The youngster is stronger and faster than he is, as he approaches five years old. Hard to believe he was that adorable little pup thrust into my arms on Christmas morning in the parking lot of a major casino just west of here.

The breeder had assured me, after very long talks, that Oliver was just the dog I needed. And, he was heavily discounted. His entire litter had been sold. He was the one nobody wanted. Only 4.5 months old, he’d gotten car sick on the way to me. Still a little damp, he snuggled right under my heart and there he’s stayed.

Oliver is the most difficult dog I’ve ever raised. Growing up on a farm, from my earliest memories, I was around all kinds of animals. I became one of them. From the goose that bit me, to the sheep we raised for 4-H, there were always animals at the farm. Not pets. No. Friends for bit until they became dinner.

Fritz was my first dachshund. This red Weiner came into our lives when I was about six. We grew up together. I, the tomboy, and he, the ten pound watch dog. He never lived in the house because NO dogs were allowed. Nope. He just hung out on the farm doing whatever he wanted, rather like I did as a child. He never got any shots or health checks. He ate Purina Dog Chow with the real farm dog. He slept on a burlap sack by the back door. I never learned how he came to live among the vines with us. He just showed up one day.

Dachshunds are funny little dogs. They want what they want when they want it. They’re headstrong and feisty. Bred to hunt badgers, they can be persistent and brave. Oliver is all those things, but there is one problem. I’ve finally accepted that on an intelligence level of 1 -10, he’s a 2. He wouldn’t drown in the rain looking up in the clouds, but he might not realize it’s drier in the house.

He could be experiencing early dementia. He retains nothing. For five years, every day is new to him. Every lesson is a challenge, over, and over, and over.

“Oliver, wait.”

“Oliver, no bark.”

“Oliver, no jump.”

“No chew, Oliver.”

“Oliver, Oliver, Oliver.”

Oy.

Vey.

Now, Wookie has the brains. She is an Aussie Doodle. That’s an Australian Shepherd/Poodle mixture. She is so intelligent it’s scary. She’s a quick learner, wanting to please. She is more of a leader than a follower. She knows her name and the commands, “Come”, “Sit”, and “Down”. She’s housebroken, (99.9% of the time). She’s almost done chewing things up. She has a heart of gold and you can easily hurt her feelings, as she just wants to please with a smile. All in all, she is one smart dog, which spotlights Oliver’s mental limitations.

Today, a new device is arriving. It’s a small, battery operated box that emits an unpleasant doggie sound when the button is pushed. Barking at the fence? Push the button. The dog will stop. Call the dog to your side. Praise.

Well, that’s how it works for a normal dog. Wookie will do just great. She knows her name and comes when called. She’s so alert, this device will help her stop barking at the fence.

Oliver thinks his name has been changed to Wookie, too.

“Oliver!” No response.

“Oliver! Come!” Looks the other way.

“Wookie!” The lightbulb sparks and he comes.

That is life during this crazy sleep over experience.

Last evening was Monday at the Movies. We watched John Wayne and Jimmie Stewart in “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence.” Wookie and Oliver weren’t impressed and fell right to sleep.

Tonight, we’ll try “Milo and Otis”. That might grab their attention. Wookie will love it, as she prefers action movies full of animals. Yes. She watches TV. She smiles at appropriate times. She understands this older doggie BFF is challenged and tries to help him out. Two dogs isn’t such a bad idea if one of the two wasn’t Oliver.

Whatever you do today, spend some time with your pet. Learn something new about them. Spoil them a little with an unexpected treat or activity. Realize that not all dogs are Rin-Tin-Tin smart. Some just live off their cuteness. Our pets absorb our loneliness and return the purest love in return. God got it right when he made pets, even if some are more challenged than others.

More tomorrow.

Oy Vey.

Tragedy doesn’t know the day of the week. Bad things can happen at any moment and yesterday turned out to be quite the moment. My beautiful junk tree is committing suicide quietly in the back yard right under my watchful eye.

And so, the story begins.

Winterpast is lush this year. For new readers, “Winterpast” is the name of my home which sits on 1/2 acre of land groomed to Martha Stewart – English Garden status. Well, not quite yet, but every inch IS landscaped. There are paths, roses and 23 trees. Truthfully, there are 25 trees, but, I kept quiet about two of them.

With all the spring rain, everything is thriving. The fruit trees have never looked so great. Loaded with hundreds of plums and apricots, they are looking great. All the trees, except for one of them. Sitting center stage along the back fence, I care for a 25′ Russian Olive. I’ve learned that some states have outlawed this tree, considering it an invasive species. Okay, fine for them. My tree invaded this space about 16 years ago and is now too big to ignore.

I love this tree this tree, as it grows right in the middle of the high plains of Northwestern Nevada. It’s managed to thrive through desert heat and brutal winters. Until 2023. The neighbor hates my tree, having told me so many times. Secretly, it makes me love my tree that much more.

The tree has been failing while the others were thriving. Yesterday was the day something had to be done. Now, if you think going to the emergency vet is expensive, just try a tree doctor on a Sunday afternoon. Or, just get out the chain saw. It would be cheaper.

I’m connected to my neighborhood through an online program called Nextdoor. I’m just learning about the program, and put out an SOS for my failing tree. Right away a suggested name popped up with many other comments that told me he was the guy I needed, so I called to leave a message.

He called right back. On a very late Sunday afternoon. He would be right over.

I learned so many things in a short period of time, my mind was on overload.

Within five minutes of being on the property, he discovered many problems. The tree was strangling itself with its own roots. This wasn’t helped by the rock and black plastic keeping the noxious weeds under control. As he ripped open the plastic to expose beautiful, big roots, I could almost feel the tree take a deep breath. The plastic around the trees would need to go. ASAP. Another tree was also suffering, just not as bad.

The second problem had to do with all the beetles that were living under the plastic around the roots. Opportunistic freeloaders were living in the tree and killing it.

The last problem was the big one. Girdling Roots. The roots weren’t going out to look for water, they were circling the tree. This had been going on a very long time, as the problem roots had made indentations on the bark. As he dug away the dirt around the roots, amazingly huge anchors were explosed. All of a sudden, this tree looked like a real tree. The roots were as amazing as the 25 feet above the ground.

With his trusty ax, he lovingly pruned the roots, chopping off the bad ones.

He pointed out many things about the other trees in my yard. The cherry trees have the softest wood and are under attack of the beetles. Every tree in my yard needs spray. The Russian Olive is so sick, she needs injections and a trim. My apricot tree is the most lovely one he’s ever seen.

What’s a non-smoking, non-vacationing, non-gambling gardening gal to do? The grounds of Winterpast saved me on many days over the last three years. Gardening is my passion and Winterpast my true love. The trees will not die under my watch. Not without a fight.

We made a deal as the sun was setting over the desert mountains. He’ll be back as soon as possible to treat all the trees, except the two that are hiding on the side of the house. For the next few days, I’ll be removing some black plastic to expose the roots.

The roses have had so much pampering, they need to take a back seat for a minute. My Russian Olive needs me.

As he was leaving, we turned around to look at her. I felt that she was already sighing in relief while waving a little “Thank You”. It will take a few months for her to recover from this.

A poem comes to mind that CC gave me when I started teaching. It seems appropriate here.

DEEP ROOTS

“When I die,”

She said,

“I’m coming back

as a tree

with

deep

roots

And

I’ll wave

my leaves at

the children

every morning

on their way to

school

and

whisper

tree songs at night in

their dreams.

Trees with deep roots know

about the things

children need.”

B. Andreas — 1993

Yes, trees know a lot about what widows need, as well.

Whatever you do today, check on your trees. Really look at them and make sure they are thriving. Do some reading and learn about them. Make sure they haven’t decided to commit suicide right in front of you like my sweet Russian Olive. While you’re at it, spend some time in the garden. It’s good for what ails you.

More tomorrow.

Written by The Rev. Dr. D. Scott Stoner — April 7, 2017

It’s the little things in life that make me happy, and one of those little things, believe it or not, is a memorable acronym. A good acronym contains an inspiring message and does so in a format that is easy to remember. Case in point is the acronym T.H.I.N.K.  Originally created as a communication guideline for online social media behavior, the five questions asked within this acronym are, in my opinion, a helpful guide for all forms of communication, in all aspects of our lives.

T is for the question, “Is it True?” The first test for anything we may wish to communicate is whether we know for certain that what we are about to say is true.  If we are not 100% certain that something is accurate or true then we shouldn’t be saying it, and therefore we don’t even need to put our communication through the filter of the next four questions.

H is for the question, “Is it Helpful?” This question asks us to reflect on our intention for what we are communicating. Will it move the conversation along in a way that is productive? Just because saying something sarcastic, for instance, might make us feel superior for a moment, it will most likely not be helpful to the relationship.

I is for the question, “Is it Inspiring?” Since communication involves a relationship, this question asks if what we have to say will enhance and build up our relationship with the person with whom we are communicating. “Speak only if it improves upon the silence,” a quote from Mahatma Gandhi comes to mind in this context

N is for the question, “Is it Necessary?” Is it necessary to point out every small mistake someone makes? Is it necessary to “pile on” criticism toward someone when they are already feeling bad? Is it necessary to be sure you get the credit for a good idea? Will what you are about to say enhance the current conversation? If not, don’t say it.

K is for the question, “Is it Kind?” The world can be a very unkind place, filled with words that are intended to bully and hurt others. We all benefit when we look for opportunities to speak and express kindness to each other.

All of this does not mean that we should avoid difficult conversations. It simply means that before we begin a potentially challenging conversation we pause and think about our true intentions, and then work to communicate in ways that are intended to expand and enrich our relationship with the other.  It is wise to remember that all of our conversations, big or little, impact our relationships, for better or for worse.

I invite you to make an intentional effort to keep the T.H.I.N.K. acronym in mind as you communicate with others over the next few days. See if it makes a difference, not just in what you say, but also in how you say it. If you find that what you want to say does not pass the filter test of the five questions above, you might want to think twice before you say it, for the sake of your relationships.

##

Yes. The world could use a few more T.H.I.N.K.-ers.

Whatever you plan to do this weekend, remember that character is who you are in the dark. This is a possible point to ponder if your power goes out in a thunderstorm after dark. Enjoy these last few days of spring. In an instant, it will be desert-hot here on the high plains of northwestern Nevada. I plan to make the most of the mild temps and afternoon rainstorms. Spring is certainly a beautiful time of year!

I’ll be back Monday!

Last night the heaven’s opened up and it poured buckets of beautiful spring rain. By late afternoon, it’d become quite blustery. It’d been the perfect day to cook a pot of spaghetti sauce for the freezer and stay inside.

Around 7 pm, the afternoon monsoon hit. Lightning, thunder, and then, no power. I know this because my “Help-I’ve-Fallen-And-I-Can’t-Get-Up” machine was blaring to the world “No Power. No Power. No Power.” This machine and I co-exist. I haven’t fallen and if I did, I’m pretty sure I could get up. But, out of a lonely widow’s fear, I pay for the service. Just in case, because you never know.

I probably should wear the pendant with the emergency button. I think that IS the important part of the plan. It hangs right by the side of the bed on my lamp, ready for emergencies. Like I say, I could probably slither to the nightstand with my injuries.

For the first two years of service, when an outage occurred, it alerted all the people on my list. CC and the kids. Slowly, one by one, they’d call me.

“Um, are you okay? Just checking.”

I’m so blessed to have family and friends that love me but I really don’t want to bother them with power outages. Last fall I called the company to change the setting.

“Would you please not call my contacts when the power goes out?” I asked a “child” associate on the other end of the line?

“Ohhhhh. We can’t do THAT! Your children will be upset if we change the settings for YOUR machine.”

Well, hold the phone, Bucko.

First of all, my “children” are adults that don’t like to be referred to as “the kids”, as they haven’t been for decades now.

I bought the machine.

I maintain the machine.

I chose the settings.

I’m UNCHOOSING the one that says “Call my family if the power goes out.”

With a bit of an argument, I prevailed. During last night’s outage of three hours, not one of my contacts was disturbed.

Why is it that when the power goes out, no matter the time, there are 24 things you want to do that require power? How many times can one turn a light switch in a five minute period with no result? I my case, quite a few. In different rooms, even.

With my windows shaking from the thunder, MM asked if Oliver and I would like to visit his house. Safety in numbers. It’d been a long day for us both and it would’ve been nice to see Wookie and her pet, my Mysterious Marine. I changed clothes, brushed my hair, grabbed Ollie, and headed to the garage.

Quite dark in a garage during an outage. Rather creepy.

I was about to put Oliver in the car, trying not to fall, because with the power outage, my unit wouldn’t alert anyone. It was then, I realized a little problem with the plan.

Garage door openers don’t work well when the power is out. Before you mention the emergency pull switch, I’d already thought of that. Below that switch sits my beautiful, shiny, brand-spanking-new luxury car. Nothing would happen to it when pulling the rope to unlatch the door and allow it to be opened. That’s true enough.

It was the woman pulling the rope that could break things that were working just fine. A pulled back muscle wouldn’t help in this situation. The garage doors are super heavy which is why there is a garage door opening in the first place.

In the black of night, Oliver and I returned to the comfort of home. It was an early night.

The outdoor noises are louder during a power outage. One thing I did notice was the moo-ing of a frantic cow. The farmer never came to the rescue and the mooing of one cow continued well into the night. She was still complaining when I woke up this morning.

With the nightly rain, which has persisted for over a week now, the gardens of Winterpast have never looked greener. I just planted a bougainvillea. Three leathery hosta’s will enjoy the shade under the bird houses. The geraniums are blooming like crazy. With the peony’s almost finished for the year, the roses will take over with blooms the size of saucers. It’s the year of flowers here on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada. The desert is ready for a super-bloom event.

Whatever you do today, try to avoid golfing in the rain. According to MM, it’s most unpleasant, especially when golfing with coaches that must play through to the last hole. Haven’t heard from that boy this morning, but he madder than a wet hen last night.

More tomorrow.

Memorial Day Weekend, 2023 was one I’ll never forget. My little town, nestled right alongside the interstate on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada is home to around 10,000 fallen heroes. Our beloved veterans. With heroes from as far back as the Civil War, our National Cemetery is one beauty. I know. I’ve spent some time there over the past few days.

Saturday, the cemetery needed help. A flag was provided for every grave, but human angels were needed to place them. Placement would begin at 8:30 in the morning. It was hoped that the flags would be in place by Monday. It’s one of two times a year the graves get fancied up.

With the spring weather being about as perfect as weather get, MM and I headed out early to beat the afternoon sun. We decided we’d get there around 8, just to get a jump on the activity. When one places flags, it’s wise to bring a screwdriver to make an insertion hole in the grass. We had that covered.

When we arrived, there were already many flags in the ground. By 9:30, all the flags were placed. Thousands of graves were adorned with the stars and stripes. Waving in the desert breeze, the view was breathtaking. Sadly, this cemetery is one that will continue to grow as we lose more vets every day.

While placing each flag, we read the name, branch of service and dates of birth and death. There were a couple soldiers that were over 100. Wives were buried with their men. The names of the wars were listed on the headstones, as well. The names of the men and women were varied, all unknown to us. Their years of service gave pause for thought. Years away from family and friends while dodging bullets without a complaint. They went to serve, coming home to a grateful nation.

After finishing our part, MM and I felt great. It was the smallest of things we could do to remember the fallen. We’d be back on Monday for the ceremony at 11 am.

Monday’s ceremony brings thousands of people from everywhere. Some parked as much as a quarter of a mile to honor the fallen. People of all ages and walks of life were there at 11:00 for the service.

A special group of men started off the ceremony. A group of veterans. They had walked a little farther than 1/4 mile. They had walked 50 miles from the state capital carrying thousands of dog tags of the fallen men and women that rest in the cemetery. As I was listening to their story, I thought of some days that I barely walk to the mail box and back to the house. 50 miles! An incredible act of love. They started on Saturday and camped two nights along the way. There were thunderstorms both nights. They didn’t give up, arriving at just the right time.

There was a fly over by some veterans, a 21 gun salute, and lots of military brass. There were special words for the Gold Star families who paid the ultimate price during a time of war. The Vietnam Vets arrived on their motorcycles, rumbling along to the back side of the cemetery.

Of course, the colors were presented at the beginning, and the songs for all branches of the military were played softly by a brass quartet. The Mayor, (who happens to be MM’s little brother) led us in the flag salute. The governor of our state had some beautiful thoughts to share. People were encouraged to stay and get to know their neighbors. A nice touch to a beautiful ceremony.

Just when I thought things couldn’t be better, I found out they could.

Yesterday, the task of removing the flags was at hand. Anyone who could help was asked to return at 8 am, Tuesday morning, to remove flags for use next year. With nothing better to do, I was there on a beautiful, blue sky desert morning. The breeze was perfect. For an hour, I had a section of soldiers all to myself.

I spent time thinking about my own sons that gave over 50 years of their lives serving with the United States Air Force. I thought about mothers throughout the United States that served with their sons and daughters as they waited for letters from foreign places. Some parents got back soldiers that weren’t quite the same and never would be again. Such a high price that a quiet group of mom’s paid, right along side their children.

I’d picked up about 250 flags when the strangest thing happened. Like so many times in life, the smallest miracles are missed if you’re not paying attention. I met a wonderful angel woman who was working at the same task. As it turns out, our husband’s both died form liver cancer. One small difference. Her one year heaven-ersary is June 5th. Listening to her story brought memories of cancer. Memories of loss. Memories of what it was like looking forward to that first milestone. One year without. Hoping after that first year, grief would suddenly complete the cycle.

Long story short, I made an angel friend among the heroes today. Meeting her put a bow on Memorial Day 2023 . We both agreed we’re looking forward to December 16th, when we’ll put out Wreaths. Please think about donating to Wreaths Across America. Look them up. It’s a nice thing to do.

Whatever you do today, thank a veteran. Even though Memorial Day has passed, thank one anyway. They gave up a lot to keep our country free. If they were asked, they’d tell you they’d do it again. That’s just the way they roll. Keep your eyes open for Miracle Friends. They’re only strangers until you say “Hello”.

More tomorrow.

Amazing things happened over the weekend! Heartbreak over the “broken” computer turned into triumph! The computer LIVES! Somedays are just a mixture of good and rotten. My Friday was such a day.

I love getting up in the morning to blog. Purposefully, I rise at 4:30, make coffee, feed Ollie, and sit down at the computer. I usually check to make sure the world isn’t on fire, check the banking to make sure I haven’t been hacked, and then get on with the blog. I’ve been blogging since September 24, 2000. You can look on this website and go back to my very first day as a “real” writer and read through the trials and tribulations of my journey through widowhood.

It takes a little bit o fine tuning to get this schedule to work. On most days, I do turn out the lights pretty early. Without the problems of insomnia or restless leg syndrome, I fall right to sleep. The flip side is that if I oversleep until 5:30, I do feel as if half my day is gone. Silly, I know.

Friday started as any other day, except for the first terrible event. When I turned on my computer, it had a mind of its own.

5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu5fu, and so on.

Whatever I tried resulted in 5fu.

I unplugged, waited 20 seconds and replugged.

5fu.

I tried to move the mouse.

5fu.

I unplugged the keyboard AND mouse.

5fu.

Finally, I had no choice but to contact my sweet son, T. He’s been in the computer business since he was a boy. Working for a group of doctor’s, his expertise keeps all the medical scanning equipment up and running. MRI’s, CT Scanners, and other medical equipment that I haven’t even heard of are all hooked online these days. Decades ago, when computers were new, he started his career. He’s tops at what he does. Lives and the doctors that save them depend on him.

Another part of his work involves dealing with frantic employees that can’t get their $%#%$#% computer to do what they want. He hears it all, day in and day out. He reads between the lines and makes things better. I would guess most of the problems he deals with are not even caused by what the employee thinks they are. He has an analytical brain perfectly suited for problem solving.

I never text the kids early in the morning. They have their own kids and lives to get going. But, last Friday, I needed computer help. It wasn’t my health emergency, but rather my computer’s. That’s more critical in my book.

When I saw his text that said “Oh No”, after we had tried ten different procedures, my heart sank. With a three year old dishwasher awaiting a motherboard, it seemed my 2.5 year old Dell All-In-One desktop (dearly loved) would be going to the bone yard. For another $800+, I’d need a new computer. It was just that simple.

Sadly, I used my i-Pad to order another. Thank goodness for Amazon.

All day, this was wearing me down. How could a computer be so new and just break? I had not spilled coffee on the thing. I hadn’t had any sort of power surge. Were things these days built to last two years and fry? My appliance repairman has his own experiential evidence to prove that theory. There had to be one last thing I could try to fix this.

And then, the lightbulb in my brain brightened.

You-Tube.

With that thought, my trusty i-Pad and I and went to work. Entering the model number, I asked for a fix. In seconds, I was watching a video on how to fix all kinds of computer issues. I could add more space or replace the fan. I could remove the hard drive and replace it with a bigger one.

The first step involved popping off the back cover. Just like the technician on the video told me, it would sound terrible. Like I was cracking the entire thing. Assured that it wouldn’t break, I just needed to start at a corner and lift.

I WAS a little scared to to this alone. Not to fear, my Mysterious Marine came to the rescue. After planting two trees and two rose bushes, he wasn’t done helping a damsel in distress. Nope. All he needed was a few screwdrivers and it was on it.

With the cover off, the computer was exactly as shown in the video. With the removal of four screws and a small cover, the tiny battery was exposed. A common flat battery that we’ve all seen many times over. The video suggested that to reset the computer, the battery needed to be removed for 20 seconds and then replaced.

Carefully, we did this while marveling at the beauty of the motherboard. Then, Snap-Crackle-Pop and the computer was back together.

When plugged in, it worked. Just! Like! New!

No need to spend hundreds on a replacement. Amazon will be getting a big return and I’m back in business. All it took was a look-see on You Tube.

As a widow, unexpected breaks can be devastating. From a broken air conditioning unit to a failing irrigation system, life as a widowed home owner is often frustrating and overwhelming. But, You-Tube holds answers for so many fixes. From programing a garage door opener to repairing a computer. With a brand, model number, and brief description of the problem, you too, can fix your clogged sink, leaky toilet, or even a computer that likes to type 5fu over and over.

With that, I hope your Memorial Day was grand. Short of replacing a roof or digging through layers of roots, there isn’t much an old widow woman can’t do. There are those things for which we aren’t strong enough. That’s true enough. But, with a little research, we can diagnose what’s wrong and understand the proper fix. That way, when someone arrives to do the job, we KNOW what needs to be done.

Whatever you do today, think of a small project that bugs you and find the fix on You Tube. You’ll be amazed at the different things you can learn to do yourself. It’s empowering and pretty darn exciting. Of course, a special thanks to my Mysterious Marine. Gardening AND Computer repairs. Pretty darn cool!

More tomorrow.

Not much more needs to be said. I am typing this on a very tiny screen that is not sustainable.

My desktop is sick so I must give my computer guru a call. T can fix anything. I hope he can help.

Please take some time to remember the heroes that’ve served our country, while keeping us safe and free. My two sons donated over 40 years of their two lives to do just that. Thank you, my sweet boys.

I’ll be back Tuesday with updates. Who knows? I might be typing on a new computer by then.

Remember our heroes.

I love my appliances. When I moved to Winterpast three years ago, the appliances were new. Bright, shiny stainless, all. Stove, frig, microwave, dishwasher and garbage disposal, washer and dryer. Everything brand new to avoid troubles. When I moved into Winterpast, heaven knows I had enough troubles, having lost VST just 17 days before.

For the past three years, every morning, after a small breakfast, I rinse the dishes, placing them in the dishwasher. Unless I have company, it takes two days to fill, at which time I run a load. I’m one old widow woman. Not a family of four, cooking three meals a day.

When I selected my dishwasher, I was in for some training. Here’s the deal. If you want the quietest dishwasher, it has no food grinder. That’s why they are so quiet. Get it? If you want the most energy efficient one, it has no heating element. That’s why less energy is used.

Now, I really didn’t want a metal box that sprays water and calls it good. That would be the quietest and most energy efficient. I had to scratch my head on that one. My dishwasher is a upper mid-priced Chinese produced General Electric model that has both heat and a food grinder. It’s still pretty quiet.

Last week, it became really quiet when the pump stopped working. It just hummed, while excess water pooled in the bottom of the unit. Not good. Only three years old and already broken while there is only one old widow woman using it. Of course this happened right before the party for 40 people. Of course.

So, for the last two weeks, I’ve been washing my few dishes by hand. Last Friday, I finally called the Home Warranty Company. Now, I know Home Warranty Companies SAY they will cover Air Conditioning units. Trust me. In my area, in the hottest part of summer, they may say the will cover everything, but no AC company deals with them. I ended up getting ripped off with no service. The new AC was $10,500 replacement price. That’s a heart stopper. I was hoping it would be different for dishwashers.

When I went online to set up a service call for the dishwasher, I was told the NEW service fee was $125. My contracted fee was $75. There are so many ways to rip off the widow. After many calls, the service fee was finally reduced to ZERO. Best advice? Don’t mess with the widow. After the call, I’ll be deciding if I stay with the warranty company or not.

As a widow, there are so many things that are beyond my knowledge and ability. Top of the list is air and heating. But dishwasher repairs are right up there. The company I used did have a nice feature in which I could troubleshoot a few things to make sure I really had a problem that needed fixing. Indeed, I do.

As it turns out, my 3 year old GE dishwasher has two fried mother-boards. Parts will be ordered. Once installed, it should work just fine. Gone are the days that appliances worked for a decade plus. General Electric products are produced in China now, along with most other affordable products. How sad.

A very informative technician told me that he does this all day long. It appears it might even be by design. Planned failures built into the units. He can literally plan an entire day in a new housing unit going from house to house to replace fried mother boards. The scary thing is that it isn’t just the dishwashers that are going out, and not just General Electric either. Unless you are lucky enough to have bought German, it will probably happen to you, too.

Gone are the days that a young couple got their first Kenmore set lasting them 20 years. If you get three years without a problem, you are pretty darn lucky.

Whatever you do today, appreciate working appliances. In this crazy world, it’s something to cheer about. Considering the information shared by my repairman, Elijah, a home warranty is a really good thing to have. New, failing appliances keep his repair company in business. If you have experienced appliances, try your best to have them fixed. You won’t be very happy with the new versions.

For now, it’s dishpan hands for me. Calgon, take me away!

More tomorrow.

Life is interesting these days. It amazes me the kinds of things one can order online. Of course, there are the normal, everyday items. Clothing. Accessories. Even food. And then, there are exotics. Things that I would have never believed would be delivered to the front door of a person’s home. Things like a 8 X 8 screen dome.

With all the trouble I’ve been having with mosquito bites, I might think about getting one of these delivered to put over my bed. At any rate, let me start at the beginning, which involved one very large greenhouse. That’s where the SNAFU began.

Having wanted a greenhouse for a very long time, I decided I’d waited long enough. If not now, when? The smell of fresh herbs. A place for my houseplants to vacation. Although I do have a pickup to retrieve such an item from the hardware store, the hardware store only ships these items. And so the SNAFU-able events started to unravel.

At first it seemed that the greenhouse was on its way and would even arrive early. In less than a week, I’d be helping to pour a foundation for this garden wonder and in two weeks, I’d have plants thriving inside. All that wasn’t to be.

It got as far as Sacramento when another freak storm hit the area leaving Donner Pass impassable. With nothing better to do, the company shipped the greenhouse from Sacramento to Los Angeles, where it lounged for two days before starting the journey back to Sacramento. It finally made its way over Donner Pass to my door, days after it was supposed to arrive.

With the excitement of the greenhouse, friends and family wanted to help! We had a brother that offered to help pour the foundation on the day it was supposed to arrive. Then, there was my bestie, CC, who was so thoughtful. She sent a book on greenhouse gardening tips along with some cute wooden plant markers that we could use to help us remember what seeds were growing. Each item came in a separate package including a nice little note.

A few days later, another package arrived. “Wow! CC is really getting into this greenhouse garden event! ” thought I. The evening the package arrived, I called to thank her for her sweet gift. I hadn’t considered a misting system, but what a brilliant idea. On a timer, this would help on those hot summer days!

Well, the SNAFU had set in. You see, she ordered the misting system for herself, but had forgot to change the shipping address on Amazon. CC and I live 7 hours apart. This wouldn’t be a little something I could drop off while we enjoyed a cup of tea.

After our call, a wonderful idea popped into my head. I’d just buy a system for her and have it delivered through Amazon. How easy would that be? I now wanted the mister for the greenhouse and she’d get a laugh when one arrived at her house. Except, I was out SNAFU’d. She’d already ordered another for her house. Now, she would have two.

But, the biggest SNAFU was yet to come. CC had ordered the above mentioned 8×8 screened dome for her house and …..you guessed already….it was coming to my house. She did mention that although she thinks of me as a sister, this was her item, needed and wanted at her own home.

I came home Monday to find the dome home safely delivered to my house. With a few calls and pick-up appointment, we finally got all our orders straightened out. UPS came to retrieve the item yesterday. Hopefully CC has another delivered to her house just as quickly.

Life in 2023 is fast and crazy. One had better pay attention to the fine print while ordering gifts delivered here or there. Amazon will definitely deliver any package to the exact address you select. With the push of a button, your own dome home will fly off to another state. If only our orders could tell their tales.

Whatever you do today, be careful when ordering on the internet. Make sure your passwords are at least 24 random letters, numbers, and characters. Keep your passwords hidden and try to avoid operator errors that can create unneeded SNAFU’s. It can happen to the best of us.

More tomorrow.