Sometimes I just can’t seem to win.

While I was just trying to write what I was thinking in Word, I got distracted by Word itself because I wanted to paste unformatted text into the document.

You know like when you don’t know how to spell “Uyghurs” and you grab it from an article on the web and paste it into your Word document. Only to have the rest of the word document suddenly reformat itself to match the bold underline 24 point font style of the single word you pasted.

Yeah, good job Microsoft! That makes a whole lot of sense! 

Then of course Jesse starts pitching a fit outside and now I have distractions and annoyances 3 levels deep and I’ve forgotten what the fuck I was thinking or typing which compounds the annoyance. Now we’re at 4 levels deep and this is just a Saturday morning.

But I begin to see how it is that I can’t write worth shit during the week. 

Just a normal weekday:

Flood Control grinding, digging, banging, and rumbling up and down the wash.

Jesse (Who needs attention and deserves it)

The crazy bitch screaming whatever she’s screaming.

My internal frustration at not being able to put on paper what I really mean

Fighting with software that thinks it’s being helpful but is not

Being naturally easily distracted


So I wait until evening.

Jesse (Who needs attention and deserves it)

The crazy bitch screaming whatever she’s screaming.
My internal frustration at not being able to put on paper what I really mean

Fighting with software that thinks it’s being helpful but is not

Being naturally easily distracted

My mother calling and telling me that they’re going to be home in a day or two. When I know a) she’s sitting in her recliner at her home. b) she somehow thinks that I’m in Florida when I’ve lived in California for the past 44 years, and therefore wouldn’t know or care if they were in fact out of town. c) She asks if everything is okay and I don’t want to repeat myself about my troubles. So I lie to her because I just don’t fucking want to get into it. She wouldn’t in the past, and now couldn’t help anyway.

The Crazy Bitches boyfriend, cutting and grinding metal or banging on god knows what or “Working” on an engine in the long string of vehicles he destroys by working on their engines.

I suppose that trying to write during the day is the better option.

However so much for me being able to just write something quick in Word to dash off to the County.

Grrrr

Oh WOW! I’ll never do that again!

What you might ask???

Yesterday, I dished out the last of some cottage cheese onto my plate for lunch. There were a few curds and milk still in the container.

I enjoy watching Jesse’s problem solving tactics, so I gave him the container knowing full well that I might end up cleaning a mess from the kitchen floor. I didn’t, Jesse almost immediately turned the container on its side then held it still with one paw while he licked the sides and bottom of the container.

I was amused but somewhat disappointed that he figured the puzzle out so quickly. I guess his time on the streets taught him a few tricks.

The problem came after lunch. One hour after lunch to be exact.

Jesse got the nastiest paint pealing farts ever! OMG! He was lying on the floor in front of me then let loose with a silent but deadly…

He had the audacity to look at me as if I was responsible. I told him, “No that wasn’t me.” He sniffed his butt and the heartbreak of the truth was written all over his face. He gathered what dignity he had left and walked out onto the deck.

The farts followed him and really harshed his buzz.

On his afternoon walk 4 hours later he was still laying eye watering gas attacks. At this point we could fly to Israel and volunteer to clear tunnels.

Honestly, I could feed him a tub of cottage cheese and just let him stand at the entrance to Hamas tunnels. They’d clear out in minutes.

I suppose that would be against the Geneva convention. Isn’t there some prohibition against gas and / or biological attacks?

Thank goodness we don’t have wallpaper in the house. It would have been pealing.

He was okay, but no dairy for him, other than occasional yogurt licks.

On the one hand I felt a bit sorry for him. His poos were solid so his stomach wasn’t upset or anything. He’s just had really nasty gas.

I discovered that It’s hard for me to tell him I love him when I’m gagging from another silent but deadly attack.

I hope your day was better than ours.

Here we are in November. I wasn’t going to blog today…

I’ve got to run a couple of errands. Then it’s back to the house to try to get something done.

Last week I was pretty productive. Then the weekend hit and I haven’t felt like doing a damn thing. It’s getting cold, and for some reason the house feels colder than usual. 

On the plus side, Jesse has taken to sleeping cuddled up next to me. I think he’s worried about his dignity, so when we first go to bed, he’s at the foot of the bed looking out the sliding glass door. Then sometime during the night after I’m asleep he stretches out with his head tucked against my chest. I’ve promised him that I won’t tell other dogs that he sleeps cuddled up next to me.

God forbid that he’d tip his paw about actually liking me!

I’ll admit I like waking up with him next to me.

Both of us slept late today, and we’ve both been sleeping later in general. I’m pretty sure it has to do with the sun. This time of year, the sun doesn’t make it above the mountains to the east until late in the morning. In summer, the sun rises and starts blasting into the bedroom about 5:45 am. This time of year, all you get is an orange band resting on the eastern mountains. It’s very easy to turn off the alarm and just go back to sleep.

IMG 2877The master bedroom never gets direct sunlight from fall through spring.

You can tell time watching the sunlight move up the line made by the wash. The wash itself points almost due north. The shadows cast by the mountains onto the banks of the wash mark the passing of the day. It’s not actually an earthen works sundial but after having been here for so long, I can ballpark the time of day from how much of the wash is in shadow, and which bank, the light is falling on.

I was thinking about the issue of moving. When I had the apartment in San Diego, the bedroom didn’t get light until afternoon. This was a problem because I had to be in bed by 8pm to get up for work at 3am. The room, indeed the whole apartment got, and stayed hot in springtime and summer. The winter sunlight barely hit my apartment so the place was cold as heck. The upshot is that I had to run the heat or air almost all the dang time.

I was thinking about specifications for a new place I’d like to live. I thought perhaps having a master bedroom window facing east would be good. I could wake with the sun, and the room wouldn’t be baking all day so perhaps I wouldn’t have to run the air all the time just to be able to sleep.

I just realized something else. I prefer to have the windows open. I like breezes and the smell of grass, flowers, and rain. This house for example almost always has the windows open in spring and summer. (Unless crazy pants is screaming, or the flood control folks are driving dump trucks, bulldozers, or graders, up and down the street, or the jackass up the road is cutting and grinding metal or running a chain saw at 10PM.)

Still, even with all of those annoyances, we kept the windows open most of the time. The neighbors would open their windows when the other half was practicing harp or piano. Sound carries quite well here. The mountains form a natural amphitheater. It seems too big to be an amphitheater but you’d be impressed at how small sounds echo up and down the canyon.

That suggests that where I go to live should be in a more temperate zone. Northern Florida almost but not quite fits the bill. I think further north might be a better fit for me personally. I have been very surprised at certain friends reactions when I mention that I’m considering or have considered FL.

Almost universally they’re against FL. It’s very strange. When I remind people that I was born and raised in FL until I was 14, the response is, “well you’re different,”

Different from what, I wonder.

Then I remember the continuous hit jobs the media has done on Florida, from the COVID panic to DeSantis running for President. Absolutely nothing Florida does wins the approval of the media. Although, a whole lot of the people of Florida seem pretty damn happy. 

If the media would stop for a minute, get past their bias, and really look at Florida objectively… Well they’d be ashamed of themselves if they had any shame left.

In the media, Floridians are almost universally lambasted as ignorant redneck doofuses. Everyone in Florida drives monster trucks with confederate flags. Everyone is white and racist. (Most of the white people in Miami came from New York… so New Yorkers are racist by that measure…)

It’s gotten to the point that rather than fight it, Florida is having some kind of “Florida Man” festival where it looks like they’re going to lay claim to the caricature the media have created. Knowing Floridians, they’re going to blow the caricature way out of proportion as a huge middle finger to the rest of the country that loves to badmouth the state. I’d also say that many of the Floridians want everyone in the big cities thinking Florida is dangerous, because it keeps the real shitheads from visiting or God forbid moving to Florida.

Florida and Floridians are not what the media says they are. I personally think that Florida is badmouthed all the time simply because Trump lives there. And wherever Trump is ALLOWED to live, must by definition, be simply awful. There’s a whole lot of really weird shit regarding Trump. I’m still blown away by how much venom is spewed his way and how so many people are willing to look the other way when his rights as a person are taken away. There is a lot that is simply wrong on its face.

None of this is why I’m hesitant to move to Florida.

I want four seasons, and occasional snowfall. I want a little more property than most of the Florida homes for sale have around them. Well, at least in my price range… How is it, if Florida is such a shit hole that the home prices have shot through the roof and indeed the availability of homes in the state is constrained? 

Even northern Florida, might be a little too hot for me to be really comfortable with the windows open. As I said, I like having the windows open. That being said, I might still spend a month in Northern Florida before I make a final decision about where I want to live.

It’s got to pass the Jesse test too. He’s probably going to last about as long as I do. I know I don’t have another move in me. Once I get where I’m going, I’m probably going to be there until I die. Not to be all Egyptian about it, but he & I will likely kick off about the same time.

I was thinking about moving someplace based on the governor, or the state legislature but realized that was only temporary. Governors come and go, legislatures change too. I’ve decided that I’ll choose my next home based on the general population. 

It’s people that vote and make a state a good place or a bad place. The majority of California’s people are bordering on socialist / communists and the state reflects that. The majority of Florida’s people are conservative, constitutionalists, obey the law, ain’t nothing free, capitalists, and the state reflects that. I’m way more comfortable with the latter. Having decided that, it’s a matter of degree. 

Where on the scale between Blue (Communist Leaning) California, and say a super RED state like Florida, Wyoming, Montana, or South Dakota do I want to live?

Were It not for the winters in Wyoming, Montana, and South Dakota, (and their house prices,) I’d consider them. Problem is, I just don’t want to do harsh winters. I’m too old to really enjoy them. The snowy winters where I live now are too much. Visiting Wyoming or Montana might be something I’ll plan to do in Spring or Fall.

I don’t know… I’d like to have a destination in mind before I put the house on the market. I think I’ll be spending this Winter, sorting and tossing stuff in preparation for getting out of California.

I’ve gotten to the point where getting rid of stuff doesn’t seem like I’m violating the memories of the other half and our life together. I guess that’s what grieving is about. You have to come to peace with the loss and let the wound heal in its own time. The healing can’t be rushed or forced. You’ll know you’re there when tossing junk your other half just had to have, no longer has an impact on you. When it’s just stuff, you’re nearly there…

I’ve wandered all over the map for a post I never intended to write.

I Promise, I’ll try to do better. But when we move to DST, expect some really wonky posts. 

Time Changes and I do not get along!

To Cool down my anger at all the shit in the world…

3000x3000srI broke out the BluRay of the Planet Earth series.

Somehow seeing nature devoid of humanity is very calming. I’ll grant you that not all episodes omit humans. The episode called Caves gave me some hope seeing humans leaping off a ledge…

Unfortunately they were wearing parachutes. I still had fingers crossed that a parachute wouldn’t open!

Right now humans in general are on my shit list. 

I have to admit that I’m grateful to the folks who went into caves to film and photograph because the beauty of our planet is almost unimaginable. The variations of life never cease to amaze me. 

Jesse keeps hearing various calls of animals and looks at the TV. I think he sees the images and hears the sounds, but interprets the image as something like looking through the glass doors to the world outside.

Any K9 species really garners his attention. Wolves, and Wild Dogs really got him going. But the snow leopard looking at him from the magical window disturbed him so much that he sought protection from me.

I’m doing chores with the series going in the background. I suppose I should pick up the subsequent seasons to complete the collection.

 

Okay, my day is completely off the rails.

And I don’t mind one little bit!

The pup woke me about 1AM because he had the hiccups and wanted to go out. He came back in about 30 minutes later and was not his usual bouncy self. He curled up on the couch, and I sat with him for another half hour while he snoozed next to me.

Sometimes if he’s not feeling well, he’ll need to go out several times in quick succession. Last night he didn’t, do the usual thing. After a while I went back to bed and he joined me taking his usual spot at the foot of the bed.

About 6:45AM I’ve got a puppy nose in my ear. Opening my eyes, I see a very worried look on the pups face.

I know that look!

I roll out of bed and he’s already at the sliding door. I open the door, and he makes it out onto the deck and tosses his cookies. I’m pulling on sweats and heading for a kettle of water to rinse the deck. He’s already down stairs in the yard retching again.

You feel so helpless when they’re sick. After a couple of minutes he comes slowly back up the stairs. I open the slider and follow him inside. He gets a small drink of water, then jumps back up on the couch curled up Husky fashion.

That’s where we are now, I’m sitting here beside him. He’s not curled up, instead he’s alternating between having his head propped against the arm of the couch, or having his head propped against me. (I think the alternation is about being too hot on one side or the other.)

So my day is now all about attending to my sick friend. It’s only fair, he’s taken very good care of me these past months so I’m happy to return the favor.

I notice that he wakes up every half hour or so, looks around, finds me in the room, then goes back to sleep. I guess he figures I’m watching the doors and windows for him so he’s safe and all is well.

I’m going to try for a nap later in the day. But right now I think I’ll tackle the job search. At least I’ll be able to knock that off my ToDo list.