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Friday, April 5, 2019

Loose ends

I had no idea what to title this post. I tossed a couple of ideas, and was just ruminating, you know, like a goat, on what is coming up, and there it was: Loose Ends.

I have one dental implant tooth, from back in the day when I could afford this sort of thing. Now I feel it loosening. I've noticed it the last year or so. I've made an appointment with the specialist for next Monday. I'll get a quote.

Laura is going back to her mother at the end of the school year, as you probably know. Despite her mother's firm opinion you can just toss children to whomever may or may not catch them, there is a process, even if we do live in a trailer park. The first time her mother's medical person would call for a record, dead end. Her mother is not her legal guardian.

The first hearing to relinquish custody is next week. Shelly's new husband will accompany her, and I think that is excellent. I don't know him, but when Laura's father had to drop health insurance and this man picked it up, my gratitude literally knew no bounds. I sent a him thank you note.

And a grumpy thing. It's trash day. It's raining. Our collector uses automated trucks that lift, dump the bin, return it to the ground, lid closed. As I was weaving this morning, my recyclables  were picked up. On returning, the bin tumbled over backwards, into my garden. To my surprise, a fellow jumped from the truck and righted it.  He returned to his truck without closing the lid. It's still raining.

This next is an example. I've had no correspondence with Blake in the three years since delivery to college, until last year I sent an email. It must have been an email; I am too slow at texts. I asked us to attempt to work out our differences. Months went by, with no answer, until a couple of weeks ago.

First, an unhappy message that my name on the incoming message had caused a panic attack. Then a long and rambling plea for not meeting, but an alternate information exchange. In the time it took me to text and send "Don't worry about it any more," another text flashed onto my screen, to the effect, if you ever mention me again in your blog, I will call Google to take it down.

Speaking of Google, I've been in a very interesting email exchange with a reader I didn't know of. Actually, of late so many new readers have appeared, more than a few saying they have read anonymously for years, and even gone back to the beginning.

Now, I've done that, gone back to the beginning of some blogs I follow, just to understand the present. As strange as it may sound, this is something I relate to. More time than the average, I say.

One calls herself a former Buckeye and now lives in Oregon. I tell people my last name is like Oregon with an N. I've also been informed by a former Oregonian, I don't know how to pronounce his state's name.

My former Buckeye has indeed read my epistle, and told me she was too intimidated to comment. And I responded exactly as I was told ten years ago, Come for the read, stay for the chat. There you have it.

Except the brave former Buckeye is stymied at the comment section. Her comments do not post. I wonder if it is because her browser is Safari, though I see on my statistics page that people come in on Safari. I know a lot of you have sort of dummy blog accounts. When I click on your name, there is nothing associated with it, except the number of times someone has come for a view.

Maybe a Hotmail account, or a Google account. Any ideas?


My blossoming rock garden. When I move, hopefully in June, it will move with me.

36 comments:

  1. I think I will have to go back to your beginnings to learn about Blake (Laura's sibling, yes?).

    It all comes down to health insurance. My hub's new job has fairly shoddy health insurance. And it turns out that after three mos. on the job, the constant shitstorm of challenges has not lessened. He will be speaking with a former colleague at LinkedIn come Monday. It sounds as if he may return there. The health insurance is much better as well!

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    Replies
    1. Or put it in the search box. Or Emily.

      Is it a sad thing to be changing jobs for insurance. I suppose that is a gratification, but, how awful?

      Delete
  2. Sorry to hear about your tooth. Hope it can be fixed reasonably. I laughed at your mention of your last name and Oregon. My maiden name is O'Regan and they write it Oregan... and I went through my college years being called oregano.
    Love your rock garden. I'd hoped the cheeky chickens could live there. I too collect rocks and have some favorites from places I've visited.

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  3. I hate dental problems. Well, I suppose I'm hardly unique there.
    This early summer is going to be a huge change for you in so many ways. And probably mostly good, I would think.

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  4. I am sorry that you were slapped down when you reached out.
    And about the tooth. Dental woes are dreadful things.
    Health insurance is a fraught area the world over it seems.

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  5. Our trash day, Wednesday, had debris flying all over the neighbourhood in the wind. People tend not to pack their recycling bins very carefully, and I swear that the debris lands at our place. All of it.

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  6. I read some blogs from the beginning, yours among them, it's because there's inspiration and lots of courage, I love your rock garden.

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  7. Well I guess I have some catching up to do to learn about the history with Blake. Hope the appointment with the dentist goes well. And I think your rock garden is fabulous. I started one after I visited Zion National Park. It brings me peace. Take care.

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  8. Hari om
    Darrn...there are just folk one must let go of...and others to gather in. Such is life.

    The comment thing - you may have your settings on 'registered' and not petmit anonymous. Tnis is why there are so many name only blog profiles: folk have been forced to open one in order to join in. On another angle, I have two commenters wo leave their words but yhey dont show up on my notoficationd, so unless I go read my posts directly, I don't knoe they've visited. Anomolies. Another 'that is life' thing!!! YAM xx

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    1. Yes, I turned off anonymous. Spending too much time deleting all the advertisements.

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  9. You picture reminds me that I need to keep my eyes open for a good dish for my rocks. I liked the idea when you wrote about it.

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  10. Kids drive me bananas at times...glad it's not only me, I guess.

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  11. Your buckeye commenter would be easily able to comment here if he/she opened a google email account (gmail). An alias can be used; google doesn't care. The only time I have trouble using my gmail account to comment is when the blog is Wordpress or something other than Blogger. Even then, there is usually a way around it. Sometimes you have to experiment.

    I'm sorry to hear about your experience with your grand-offspring. That was not called for at all.

    I'll have to look through my rocks and find one to send you! Yes, I said "my rocks" because I've picked up a few over the years :)

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  12. I feel sad about that girl going back to mom, I feel that she is in such good hands with you. Blog world is curious... I learn a lot and just sort of hover around the edges. Totally selfish of me.
    Where might you be moving? Did I miss something

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    Replies
    1. As Diana said, there are three of us in this relationship. I'm not the one whose values matter.
      I'm moving one street away, to a smaller unit. I like it here.

      Delete
  13. I'm still searching for a nice rock to send you. I've started back-reading a few blogs, from their beginnings, but the writing is so prolific I think I will never make it to the now on any of them. I just don't have that much time.

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  14. I also wish Laura would stay with you, but she doesn't seem to take your advice too well. Maybe she is at the time of her life when she needs to detach, but she seems to have missed so many opportunities which she might have had and which would have given her so many more possibilities later on...Ah, well. I do hope things work out well for everyone. In the meantime, I'm looking for a rock for you.

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  15. Seems like some escort place made a comment on your blog.

    I'm at a loss at who Blake is. Is it the oldest sibling with Laura's?

    Laura is so close to being an adult that I hope she'll do fine with her mom. It is good that her stepfather who willing to have her own his insurance.

    Oregon (in which I lived for 5 years) I believe is pronounced correctly by those who live there as "oregin" not "oregon." So now I'm not sure if your name is "noragin" or "noregon." Like when we lived in Prescott, Arizona; pronounced "Presskit" and not "Prescott".

    That's why I'm careful about what I blog about. I've said it for years; we have no idea who is reading our blogs especially if they don't comment on it or say they can't comment on it.

    Our trash people have no regard of the condition of the cans once they set them down. I have seen one get out of the truck and pick up a can that had fallen over before he picked the trash up in it. Otherwise, they don't care. I'm not sure I could do their job of driving around and manipulating an arm to pick up trash cans all day. But I'm sure they are paid more than I make an hour.

    betty

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  16. I gather there is an estranged child/grandchild? I too have a long estranged daughter living in the UK. Not easy, these challenges and silent heartbreaks living within us.
    Note to self: I will mail your beachstone on Monday, it will fit in nicely.
    XO
    WWW

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  17. yes, I've been told by a few to not write about them but what they don't understand is I'm not writing about them but about me. If they impact my life, they get written about and they need to get over themselves. so does Blake. and a panic attack? really?

    nice that the guy picked up the trash can but makes you wonder. best to have left it lying instead of filling up with water.

    as for the ingrates, you stepped in and did what you could to save them from themselves and I'm including Shelly here. I hope the transfer goes quickly and smoothly. You sacrificed so much and deserve your life back.

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    1. Thanks, Ellen. I tried to explain to Blake that I respect her undertaking, and though the past may be dead to her, it is very much alive for those of us involved in it.
      I am so drowning in treacle here that the second I am moved and free, I'm in my car with the wind in my hair.

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  18. It will be good when you are finally settled in your new place, Joanne. June is just three months away now.

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  19. Our trash cans get filled with water on a regular basis during the rainy part of the year. Just store it upside down for s couple of hours to let the water run out.

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  20. I read lots of blogs where i used to be able to comment, but now I can’t. I am very frustrated!! My browser is Safari on my Mac or iPhone. Most people, like you, have comments enabled via Google Account. Even though I have a Google Account, I don’t know how to activate it in relation to blog comments. A few blogs I read have an alternative to Google Account (Name and URL). These I can use, but they are becoming fewer and fewer - I suppose because of defending against spam. Can you please post this from me and see if it elicits any ideas that might help me.

    Regards

    Margaret.

    This came by email from Margaret Butterworth in Australia. I read her remarks on other posts.
    I will spend some time this weekend trying to outline these solutions.

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    Replies
    1. Can Margaret try a different browser? (I don't know how Macs or iPhones work because I don't have one)

      I use the Firefox browser and a gmail account and have no problem on most blogs.

      Delete
  21. I frequently get an error message from the mailer daemon rejecting my comments. Mary Moon's blog always generates the message, but so far the comment will post. I find it amusing that the denial is being sent by this address.

    blogger.bounces.google.com

    I spent quite a bit of time trying to understand and correct this, but now I just email the people whose blogs I can't comment on. My blog rejects at least one person, so she emails me. It's a extremely annoying.

    The response from the remote server was:

    554 5.7.9 Message not accepted for policy reasons. See https://help.yahoo.com/kb/postmaster/SLN7253.html

    Needless to say, there is not help and there is not comprehensible explanation. I suppose it's up to the gods of blogger.

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    1. I get similar messages regarding comments, my spam folder is filled daily with "could not send your message" or whatever it is they write. At first I worried, but after I noticed all comments were posted anyway, I marked them as spam and now they all go right to the spam folder which I delete daily.

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  22. Dear Joanne, I use the comment box here to thank you for the wonderful emerald towels! I wrote a blog on berlinletters - my first after New York Eve's post - to thank you.
    Thank you very, very much - they are lovely! Yours, Britta

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  23. There shouldn't be any problem with commenting if you have a gmail...
    Best of luck with the tooth problems

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  24. Ooooooh...Blake is Emily. Well, that clear that up lol. It's too bad she wants to cut off her past...we are what we were you know. Nothing can change that.
    I love your rock garden. I like the idea that pebbles from all around the planet are living in peace together the way humans should but don't.

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  25. I do hope life takes a calming turn for you soon. I’m so used to people mispronouncing Oregon that I turn a deaf ear.

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  26. So sorry that there is not one thing anonymous about me. So sorry about Blake who ever he is. Sorry too about the girls leaving. Mine did tht and lived with their dad and wife number 2. Gradually they came back to live with me...very slowly. I insisted they go to school and their pop didn't. My youngest made up three years in one, and she graduated grade school on time.

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  27. Commenting: If she uses use either Chrome or Internet explorer as her browser, she should be able to comment easily.

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  28. It cannot be pleasant for you that Laura is moving away, but it sounds from what you have said as if she is going to have much more lumber to sort out in her mind than most people before she knows who she is. Don't dysfunctional parents make everything so very very difficult - for everyone?

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