Political junkie

I've watched four nights of the DNC, most of them from start to finish. Biden and I are the same age; I owed it to his excellent presidency to hear him say Goodbye. The rest of that night was OK to very good. The rest of the show, the last three nights, was stunning.

How did they put it together? It was like a show rehearsed for months. Everyone on their mark, delivering pointed, poignant, deliberate and direct addresses. The mass of delegates and spectators every night! Half way through I had to agree, the Democratic party has taken back patriotism.

The election is still a cliff hanger; it can go either way. This great ground swell of enthusiasm must be laser focused on the outcome, the goal of putting Harris and Walz in office. Only by voting big can we save our government from a fascist term; put ourselves back on the path of a moderate Supreme Court, House of Representatives and Senate.

I'm also concerned about what may happen after Harris and Walz are declared winners. I know there are militias, well drilled and organized, intent on more armed disruption and rebellion. I pray our national guard and our police are equally intent on disrupting their plans and putting more and more time between their mayhem and good government.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, I did not report that Betty left this life a couple of weeks ago. She fell and hurt herself enough to require a couple of stitches. She seemed well enough, talking, smiling. But literally overnight she gave up, quit, and died one day later. 

It's not the first time I've seen this happen. A room mate in my rehab days closed her eyes one evening, with family and children chattering about her, trying to make her eat dinner, and left. Across the room I saw it happen and rang for a nurse, who came in, looked at his patient, and explained her death to all those around.

That's enough of that subject from the last place I intend to live.

The empty place at table has been filled by a friend of Rose, who moved in a few days ago. The new section of the building has twenty apartments available, and three have been filled in the two weeks they have been available.

Back at the loom, I will be done with the khaki towels this week. 

On my shelf of thread, so many colors left to weave. Lavender, light grey, charcoal, yellow, blue, grass green. Any picks?

Oh, to be old and doddering

Some days I wish stupid errors did not get under my skin, even to the point of irritation. Here's a small one. A small sign announced Eggs Benedict, Saturday morning, for breakfast. I ordered one Egg Benedict, with my usual substitution of a piece of bacon instead of ham under the egg.

Two mornings a week we have a doddering old woman behind the counter, relaying orders to the kitchen. Like the character Joan-Margaret in Grace and Frankie, she shuffles in and out of that swinging door, bringing her breakfast offering back with a hopeful smile. She brought me a poached egg, broken and swimming on the plate, over several pieces of bacon, topped with Hollandaise. "But you asked for it over bacon!", when I refused it. Enough of the petty.

I switched my pharmacy to my prescription plan's mail order service. This began a month or so ago when I called them to compare prices, and to update my address when the comparison was quite favorable. A prescription came up for renewal, so I gave the nurse my new pharmacy. The next day I had a text to confirm the order for delivery to my address--in Peninsula.

Back on the phone, I called to confirm the order and switch the address, again. I was told the three month prescription would cost $450 and change. I was transferred to Benefits, where I learned I was again in the Donut Hole. An annual occurrence. Back to the order desk to confirm and be sure my address was correct.

Thursday I had a text that the script would ship that day. I called again to confirm it was shipping to the correct address. "Oh, yes, Ms. Noragon, the address is correct." I made him repeat it to me, to be sure.

Saturday I had a text that my package was delivered that day. Since my mailbox is downstairs, I waited until breakfast today to retrieve it. No package. I checked the tracking. Yep, delivered to my old Peninsula address, where I have not lived for four years.

I called and spoke with a well trained operator, whose only mistake was to tell me I had confirmed the old address. I informed her that every call was recorded so there were at least three recorded instances of my change of address. She is sending the replacement by expedited mail.

I certainly hope I don't have a credit problem to unscrew, too.

This whole transaction should have been as simple as some operator rising from his/her keister and verifying the address on all platforms. Perhaps not even standing up.

In better news, the pumpkin towels came off the loom yesterday and are on the computer today. A real head start on Halloween.

Another week in review

Very early in July I had a big shipping day. So many mailers of towels, they were bundled by a big rubber band about the middle. And with not a lot of further thought, off they went. USPS has been good, once they recovered from Covid.

A few days later, all had been delivered. Except one, to Florida. At first the tracking number only indicated it had arrived in Georgia. Then, in two or three giant leaps, the package was across country, to California. It made a U-turn there, and began a return journey. It came back to Georgia, early last week.

Ah, good, thought I. Next stop, Tampa. But NO. Actually, I do not know where it went from there. The recipient visited her post office for help, and help was Do not worry; it will appear when it's tired of travelling. They did institute a missing package alert.

Between July 7 and today, it was handled by nineteen different USPS facilities. I sat down at my computer today, thinking there would be more bad news about that poor package, especially now it was out there in Debby's path, too. And there was an email, telling me the package was safely in the addressee's mail box.

Now I'm looking to find everyone else has weathered the storm!

Weather here has not been spectacular, though no hurricanes are possible. We've had two weeks of severe heat, and around here that means afternoon thunder storms. We've had one of those more days than not, plus a sighted tornado. A storm was winding down as I went to supper one day last week, so I stepped out to the courtyard to take a picture.

April showers and all that. Actually, July and August rain storms have keep the grass green and flowers healthy. My not Mandevilla is beside itself with blossoms and grasping shoots.

It's trying so hard to throw a tendril around the bench and own it, too.

In weaving news, I finished the pine green towels this weekend. They are on the shelf and on the web page.

Currently on the loom, pumpkin. In anticipation of Halloween, I suppose, but also because I visited my sister recently, and noticed she'd made a valance to shield the west facing window in the front door. It's one of those silly windows no one is tall enough to see through, but she says the winter sun is brutal. 

Only problem, she made the valance from a towel. A bathroom hand towel. I can provide a length of toweling, and in a good color for her living room: