Solving World Problems, One Train Crossing at a Time

Pondering the meaning of life while the conductor take a lunch, I guess

I'm pretty much convinced that society will not advance one iota until we have people who can figure out the simple science behind putting a railroad fueling depot 1/4 mile from a major traffic crossing and then allowing trains to pull in AND STOP at said fueling depot, which are exactly 1/4 mile, PLUS THREE TRAIN CARS, long.

What the actual heck. I mean, I'm no engineer, but I'm pretty sure this is simple math.

Not to toot my own horn (rim shot), but seriously.  If I'm reading it right, judging by the interpretive dance and/or gestures of the people parked next to me, this is beyond annoying. When I'm driving, I like to keep moving. I like to think of that as a basic goal of driving:  Arrive At Destination Without Unnecessary Delay.  If I have to stop and wait for a train, that's fine--it happens.  BUT to watch a train slowly crawl to a stop, and then sit stopped, blocking the crossing, and then actually back UP a little bit, I can feel parts of my brain kind of ...shorting out.  I need all the parts of my brain.  And I need to keep moving.  What usually happens in this situation is that I will actually duck out of the line of stopped cars and double back like six miles out of my way, to go around and back up to the railroad in an attempt to cross somewhere else. And yes, I have done this, arrived at the next crossing, and found another train coming in the other direction. *Internal screaming intensifies*.

The other day, I couldn't escape, so since I had the time, and in case this is hard for the nice folks at the BNSF Company to figure out, I decided to lay out the solution and make our world A Better Place. 

Ready?

Get a measuring tape. Have one dude walk from the fueling depot back to highway crossing. Look at the measuring tape. Have another dude walk down the length of the nearest train and look at HIS measuring tape. Write BOTH NUMBERS DOWN and compare.  If the train number is greater than or equal to (>/=) the crossing number, detach several train cars until the train measurement is significantly LESS than the crossing measurement.  So, x </= z - 3 cars.  Put away the measuring tapes, fire up the train, and move. out. of. the way.

The two dozen cars parked on both sides of the closed traffic crossing will thank you, and you'll get a lot less "one finger" waves, especially that suburban full of BNSF employees trapped in line directly behind me in line at this particular crossing.

*Inhales*

Option B:  Please pull 250 permits, hold 1,000 meetings, take half a million votes, have 19 years' worth of discussion, write 10,000 memos, invite The Public's opinion (but definitely don't listen to it), and then finally decide NOT to build an overpass at the crossing.

See? Problem solved. That took me like 5 minutes. 

Next.

"Cell Phone Etiquette" - MORE STUFF I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO TELL YOU

Dude.

Put your phones DOWN.

Just oh. my. gosh.

I know it's been said before (a lot), but I figured that having reached nearly 50 years (which qualifies as "super old" to my 80s-teenager brain), I should add my voice, as part of that generation who has the distinction of being able to say we remember when people used to just have a phone at their house.  Tethered to the actual damn wall, by a cord...usually in the living room, where everyone in the house and possibly the neighborhood (if you had a party line, like us bumpkins), could hear every word you said.

We also remember, even further back in the mists of time, when -- if someone you loved was far away -- we'd get out a piece of paper, a pen, and an envelope and WRITE THEM A LETTER.  Then we had to swipe a stamp from mom's purse and walk it all the way out to the actual mailbox.  Clear Outside.  And then go inside and wait for like 2-4 weeks to get an answer, unless the person decided not to write back, or didn't have time, or forgot about you (kind of like texting nonresponders nowadays, only way more depressing and time-consuming).

Anyhoooo

What was my point?

Oh, right.  Cell phones.

So, having said all that, what the heck, you guys.  We need some guidelines about when is, and when is NOT, an okay time to have your cell phone in front of your face.  I'll go first, and we'll see how long the list gets.  I'm not promising you "Top Ten" or anything, I'm just gonna go, in order of how they come to me.  Ready?

*inhales*

1.  NO CELL PHONES ON DATES.  Ever.  Not with boyfriends, husbands, acquaintances, friends, blind dates, lunch meetings, happy hour, or any other time where you are sitting with actual humans who drove in a car to a place to meet you, in person.  Phones need to stay, turned OFF and out of sight, for the whole time.  Not on the table.  Not in your lap.  Not in your hand.  Unless you have an elderly or young person who may or may not be bleeding out their eyes from a kitchen-related incident caused by your absence, you do NOT need to hear from anyone for that hour.  I mean it.  There is not one single damn thing that can't wait another half hour until you get back in your car to check your messages, texts, emails, Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat.  And if you check those things while I happen to be sitting across from you, I reserve the right to throw a drink in your face.  And you're buying.  That should be the new rule.  Check your phone = picking up the tab for the whole table.  Or maybe that's been done already.  I have no idea- I gave up on Internet news and Facebook like 3 years ago.

2.  NO CELL PHONES WHEN VISITING SOMEONE'S HOUSE.  Not for a party, not for a hangout, not for the Superbowl, and certainly not for a meal.  No phones.  Leave them in your car, and go outside to check them if you're that interested in what everyone who isn't at this place is doing right exactly now.

3.  NO CELL PHONES WHILE CONVERSING WITH A PERSON IN PERSON.  Oh, no, you did not just actually glance at your phone while I was talking, did you?  DID YOU??  *smack*  No.  Do not do that.  I promise you that stupid Vine video will still be there in ten minutes when we're done interacting in person.  You look at that screen one more time while I'm talking and I will pull a hammer out of my purse and give it a good bash.  See if Instagram can filter that mess.

4.  NO CELL PHONES IN AIRPORT WAITING AREAS OR SHOPPING LINES (or any other place people congregate to wait).  Oh...my...GOSH.  So much no right here.  No one wants to sit across from you while you yack loudly on your phone about your date last night, your current Facebook fight with some troll, your new Samsung product, your business meeting this morning, that one party ( 'member that one time...?), or how you spent the morning cleaning cat puke off the kitchen floor.  Stand up and go somewhere else, for the love.  How in the world have we become a society who thinks it's OK to force everyone around you to listen to your convo at top volume.  I can't tell you how many times I have had to get up and walk to another place to sit, because some dumbass won't stop shouting into his phone, sitting right against me in an airport waiting area.  Good Lord.  Do you actually not notice the other humans around you right now? Go away.

5.  NO CELL PHONES ON SPEAKERPHONE UNLESS YOU ARE DISABLED AND HAVE LOST THE USE OF YOUR ELBOWS IN A FREAK HAY BALING ACCIDENT.   This is for all you super-cool hotties out there who walk around holding your phone in front of your mouth like it's a piece of pizza you're about to bite into...speaking into it from a distance and forcing everyone else within a grocery-store-sized radius to listen in to every word of your oh-so-important chat about that girl last night with those pants, what was she thinking, omg girl, IKR, WTH.  I'd love to accidentally ram these people from behind with a shopping cart and knock their iphone 17.5 into the frozen foods exhaust fan.  Why in the heck must we listen to that?

I seriously remember when we used to leave the house, drive to town, go to school, the post office (yes), the grocery store, or go out for the whole night,  and our only phone was still back at the house, tethered to the wall.  And we were FINE.  We learned how to navigate with maps.  We learned to be responsible and tell someone "I'll meet you in the parking lot, by the big tree, at 4 p.m.", and we'd actually just be there.  No one got lost.  No one got left (well, sometimes we did, but that was only that one time when Mom was just done with our BS).  We could go to the fair with a big group and split up, and no one got lost, or trampled by a rampaging alpaca, or starved to death wandering hopelessly with no idea what to eat for lunch.  We didn't take 45 selfies for posterity, in our fake cowgirl outfits. We'd separate and make a plan (you remember those?), and we'd all meet back up, in the parking lot, by the big tree, at 4 p.m.

Where's Waldo...80's Edition.

                                               
And when we got home, if we were richie-rich enough to afford one of those cool new answering machines, we could check our messages by pressing a button, and see who, if anyone, had tried to reach us while we were not at home.  And if there was an emergency, well, yeah, they happened.  But the world didn't stop turning because we missed the call.

I remember taking whole entire road trips, across a whole entire state, with nothing but a suitcase and the car keys.  We thought it was a stretch to have to tell someone "Hey, we're driving to Seattle tonight, should be home Sunday."  It was enough.  Conversely, if we didn't make it home, from wherever, the people who loved us knew when that time-frame had elapsed where it was time to jump in the car and go looking around for us, or start calling our friends or their parents or our work, to see who'd seen us last, and where.  And that was enough, too.  We all survived.

We also did NOT need to see what everyone in our entire high school was doing, in real-time, every minute of the weekend.  Oh my gosh, that would have ruined life.  If you liked a boy, and you didn't see him at the local hangout on Saturday night...you didn't have the option to stalk him and several girls you hate on Facebook, only to find out (wailing) ...that they're all together right now omgwhyyyyy.  You'd have to fret and wonder all weekend, and then at school on Monday, you'd hear from a girl who heard from her sister, who heard from her boyfriend, who was friends with that guy you like, that he was at so-and-so's house this weekend and it looked like he was talking to whatshername and they may have left together and now your high school life is overrrrrrrr.

(Also, we didn't commit crimes over these facts, but that's another topic...)

Ok, that's my basic list of, ummm, five cell phone etiquette rules.  Feel free to add on from there...

I'm crazy about the lady in front.  Just...taking it in.  Love it.  

Images courtesy of smash.com and google images.

More Parenting Tips I Should NOT Have to Point Out. But I Will.

*clears throat and assumes Andy Rooney voice*



I'll try and keep this short.

Hahahahahaaaajustkidding.  You know I totally won't.

For my birthday last weekend, we decided to go out for a nice dinner at our favorite local steakhouse, where I happened to have a coupon for a free entree (up to $20.99 or less, and good luck finding a steak for that price).  My standing joke at ALL restaurants any more is just, please, don't let there be anyone there wearing a tiara.  Which is kind of another post, but picture, if you will--that group of over-done, over-made-up, over-dressed, overly-loud 40-something divorcees who've had that onnnne too many glasses of wine and it's somebody's birthday so WOO-HOOO I'M WEARING A TIARA Y'ALL.  *clinks glass*

This bunch...

Yeah.  Usually the table next to them is...us.

*eye roll*

Anyway, it's gotten so that when I make reservations somewhere, I specifically request to NOT be seated by any large tables or any large parties or anyone wearing a tiara, because just once I'd like to get through a meal without being forced to listen to the above too-loud ladies discussing life at too many decibels and with way too many "woo-hoos", plus the sudden random group of servers who come out, clapping and singing and sometimes wearing sombreros and/or carrying sparklers.

Guys.  I just want to enjoy a quiet dinner, k?

So, last weekend's dinner was going great until dessert-menu time.  I had actually just mentioned, "Hey...no tiaras so far" and kind of *high-fived* Shane.  Then, the servers started unfolding the table extensions at two tables next to us and sliding two smaller tables...together.  Uh-oh.

Sure enough, as soon as the tables merged into one big 10-seat table, a pile of gifts and balloons suddenly materialized in the center.  Me and Shane started giving each other the side-eye.

The family arrived, comprised of maybe 4 adults and about 300 small children.  Ok, it was more like 5 + one in a car seat, but still.  Me and Shane started giving them the side-eye.

They got seated and the small boy in the chair closest to our table immediately whips out an iPhone 12.5 or whatever and starts playing a video game, because of course a birthday party with balloons and streamers and gifts isn't nearly interesting enough to hold his attention for 3 minutes.  We start hearing  pew-pew-pew-pew peeeewwwwwww PEW PEWPEWPEWPEW.   Since they were close enough to hear and see our response, I stopped mid-sentence and stared at them and said "REALLY?? HE'S PLAYING A VIDEO GAME? AT A BIRTHDAY PARTY? WITH THE VOLUME ON??"  Mom let it go for a minute, but she did start asking Little Boy to turn down his volume.  Not OFF, mind you, but...down.

me:

Really?

We spent the rest of the meal trying to finish sen-pewpewpew-tences about whether we pewpew wanted to eat desspewpewpewpewPEW-ert or just take it PEWPEWBEEPBOOOAWWP  home with us.  And of course opted for "to-go please".

Still, though, seriously-- I had to stop talking like five times and give this mom my best "Really?" stare, along with that obvious pantomine of looking around and saying loudly "Is someone seriously watching CARTOONS IN HERE?' before she would try to get him to turn the volume down. Again.

So my question is this:  WHAT THE HECK, PEOPLE???  Everywhere we go any more, kids are not expected to be quiet and/or focus on actual reality for more than a few minutes at a time before they freak out and insist on having a phone or an iPad or a TV screen shoved in front of them.

Everywhere. We. GO.

At the grocery store:  Kids in the cart are playing on phones.

The car in front of me: TV screens in front of the baby car seats.

In restaurants: They're on a phone or a game, or those *cool* new tabletop notebook screens, in case anyone forgets their phone in the car, or God forbid, wants to actually interact with their family over dinner.

You're going to the STORE, not across the country.  This is ridiculous.

And don't tell me that your kids are "too much of a handful" or that they are so hard for you to control that this is the only way you can go out in public.  They're only TWO FEET TALL; you can too control them, although if you're the mom from the restaurant, you've probably already waited too long.   Quit shoving stupid technology in their face 24/7, and teach your kids to BEHAVE.  If you don't know how, ask your mom how her parents did it, because believe me, for the older generations, this was NOT a problem, and no one grew up "warped" because of strict discipline, although I shudder to think of what this next generation will be like.

Get it together, parents.  There are other people out here, trying to eat.










images courtesy of Google images

Oh Good. More Technology.

Ok, don't get me wrong.  I LOVE technology.  I'm all about cool new techie things and the latest updates of whatever programs our phones can download, and I even learned how to use the filters on Snapchat, so I am now totally able to reply to my daughter's snaps, in about the same amount of time it takes her to grow up, get married, raise a family, get old, and retire.

why can't we just text each other? 

What I am NOT with you on (or *them*, since I doubt that this was *your* idea...) is this Cool New Technology that Shane and I accidentally collided with recently at a well-known restaurant who will remain "Olive Garden".

First let me preface this with, yeah, I KNOW.  We haven't been eating out very often for....um...(stares at ceiling...counts on fingers...scrolls through calendar years...) Ok, like three or four years.  We haven't eaten out much for 3-4 years, except at our favorite local family-owned restaurant, where everything is still very low-tech, in the sense that actual people come to the table and ask you verbally what you would like to eat, and you tell them, to their face, and they disappear to go on a lunch break and/or leave to go check their laundry, and you sit waiting for what seems like too long to get anyone to come back and refill the water that you both already guzzled and whyhasn'tshenoticedthisyet, but eventually she DOES, and then your food comes out,  and everything's OK again, and we're all still friends.

HowEVER.

We hadn't been to a chain restaurant in awhile, so the other night, we were aimlessly driving around after watching a super-slow-ok-that-was-SO-not-a-sports-movie-Denzel film, and we just kind of ended up at Olive Garden.  Which is fine, because I love Olive Garden.  Or I used to...back when I was still allowing myself to eat carbs and stuff.  Anyway, I sucked it up and decided I was game for trying to find something on their menu that wasn't bread, or pasta, or breaded, or breaded pasta.  (good luck)

At first, it all seemed pretty much business as usual.  We were seated after a normal wait time.  We had a normal hostess give us menus and take our drink orders.  We politely nodded in disinterest when she pointed out the new little gadget on the table that looked like a small TV flatscreen thing and told us that we can "sign up for rewards" or something...I never sign up for ANYthing, so...yeah-no.  As soon as she left, I turned the TV gadget thingie around, facing out, because the LAST thing I want is a screen flashing in my face while I'm trying to enjoy a full-service restaurant dinner.

oh. my. gosh.  SERIOUSLY?    no

 Anyhoo.

We had a normal college-age boy come and say he'd be our waiter, and he did take our orders.  I'll call him Josh.  So..."Josh" brought out that big bowl of lettuce with oil and vinegar on it that doubles as "salad" at Olive Garden, and we more or less finished it.  He came back fairly soon and asked if we wanted it refilled, so we were like, "sure" because how filling can lettuce be?  And, could he also please refill the waters when he gets a chance? Sure!

And--Here's where it gets weird.

That was pretty much it.  Josh basically never came back.  Ever.

We sat forEVer, wondering what the heck.  Slid the empty water glasses way out to the edggggggggge of the table.  Looked around obviously like we're waiting for service, or a waiter, or ANYone to notice that we're still there.  Made choking sounds and slurped loudly from the empty glasses, trying to survive on the water we could suck off the ice cubes.  Stirred ice with our straws.

Finally a whole other guy, who seemed like the floor manager, showed up with our entrees.  We told him we'd love some water, and oh, could you also tell Josh not to worry about that salad refill? 'Cause we've moved on to dinner now.  Him:  Sure.

We finished our dinner and sat there, waiting for Josh to reappear.  Forever.  I think I actually gained some more wrinkles while we waited.  We decided, since it's been so long, maybe we should check out desserts.  Oh, wait, there's no menu on the table for desserts except....wait.  What about this?  I turned the stupid little TV thing back around to face us, and lo and behold, there were hi-def pictures of their desserts right there on this little screen.  

Exactly like this

THEN I noticed that not only was it an ad for their desserts, it had a touch screen button that said something like "order now" or "add to cart" or something, and another button that said "more water" and another one that said "call server" or something, and then it hit me.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

We're supposed to figure out this stupid gizmo/tablet/ipad thingie on our dinner table, during dinner, in order to make these things happen???  Is that why Josh never came back? He's crouched somewhere in the back, on a headset, waiting to be paged by a computer?

*hard eye roll*

I set the little screen thing back down, facing away, crossed my arms, and refused to buy into their new program. We waited some more.  Looked around, obviously searching for our waiter.  Nothing.

After another eon passed and we both aged even further, and/or possibly cashed in our Roth/IRAs, "Josh"--the actual dude, who must have realized we were not "on board" with the kiosk or ziosk or whatever--finally materialized, and we were able to communicate directly to him, using words and some basic hand gestures, what we wanted for dessert and that we'd like it to-go, and that we were ready to pay.

I handed him my debit card, which he handed back to me and said "Oh, no, you check yourself out."

Me:  --  *eyebrows go up*

Him:  *turns the little TV screen back around to face us*  You swipe your card right here and do your purchase on the screen.

Me:  --  *holding debit card in midair with eyebrows still up*   Are you joking?

Him:  No.  *pointing to screen, which is now configured with our sales receipt*  See?  Right here.

He's looking at me like I'm visiting on a special outing from the Alzheimer's wing of a nursing home.

I notice that the TV thing has suddenly apparently sprouted a card-reader swipe thing on one side, so I swipe my card and the screen takes me to the "tip" portion of the transaction, which is like a slide-rule thing that you can touch to change the tip percentage, but I notice that it is conveniently set to like an automatic 20+ percent tip.  I slide it to the left...20-18-15-13-12-10---- slide, slide, sliiiideee  c'mon where's the 0%?  I'm out of luck.  It stops me at a MINIMUM of 10% for Josh, who has done basically NOT A DAMN THING for us except bring out our salad and to-go boxes.  A whole other guy did the job of bringing our entrees, and no one ever did refill the waters.

So I kind of sneakily clicked on the lowest possible tip, because "Josh" hadn't done anything tip-worthy, while noting that ok, so there's also no way to NOT give a tip? Or any way to leave a comment, like "You guys need to work on your customer service or we won't be back"?  Interesting.

I hit <print receipt> for a printout, right out of the little TV thing, and we were on our way.

On the  way out, we finally noticed that, yep, most of the tables of diners were all totally enjoying their meals with their family and friends, but instead of being focused on each other, they were all totally engrossed in these stupid little screens on the tables.  There were kids playing games on them.  There were groups of girls snapping selfies and posting them to Facebook or wherever.  There were old people trying to figure out how the hell to get more water.  I half expected to see people tuning in to their favorite TV shows or for commercials to start flashing across the screens.

this just screams "relaxing with family", doesn't it?

Just.  Wow.

Let's review, shall we?

Now, when you go out to dinner, where you used to be expected to, I don't know, actually interact face to face with your dinner companions, you can now spend the ENTIRE time fiddling around with learning how to use and/or play with another whole new device, just like the ones you should have left in your car and/or at home before you left to go OUT to dinner, while ALSO very minimally interacting with anyone in the service end of the restaurant.

So, basically, dining out is now almost exactly like dining at home, except you don't have to cook or get your own plate, although I half-expected to see those bins on the way out like at a food court, where you dump your trash and leave your tray.

On the way home, I got out my own tiny link to the whole world phone and googled this new technology, only to find that it's been in place for a couple of years now, at a lot of restaurants.  I also read the many many many complaints, exactly like mine...

Shane and I made a secret pack and pinkie swore to never go out for a "nice" dinner again at ANY restaurant that wants you to order your food through a touch screen at the table.  I can see it being handy to pay at the table, in case you're the type who is afraid the waitress is taking your credit card in the back and snapping photos of it to secretly charge you for her next trip to Mexico or whatever, but...trying to force diners to figure out more screens so we can "call server" or for "more water"??  Seriously?

Like I said, I'm a huge fan of technology, but guys. Huge, double thumbs way way down for this one.

...and yes, I have been living under a rock.

byeeee

Photos on this post all courtesy of Google images. 

My "Disconnected" Life

Guys.  I have a confession to make.  Well, more like a statement to make.  Or maybe it's just like a memo that you didn't get yet, which totally hasn't mattered, because you're sitting there all living your life and not really knowing that I've been over here going through all kinds of epiphanies and stuff.  And since I may or may not have lots of words to say about all of it, I also compiled a bunch of fun photos to make this more like a photographic memo, which should make it more fun for me for you.  

So here goes-

I don't remember what the date was, but it was maybe two weeks ago now, when I turned on the internet news and saw that there had been a(nother) college campus shooting by a(nother) demented...I don't even know the word.  For the sake of clarity, we'll just call him a terrorist.  He doesn't deserve any attention.  Anyway, of course I read the story, because the whole entire world drops everything and reads these stories.  And something in me just snapped.

This happened in Oregon, where I have lived before.  I adore Oregon.  Roseburg is one of the towns we always drove through and said "Hey, we should totally MOVE here, because it's gorgeous and quiet".  So, for this to happen there, really just got me.  Plus, he targeted Christians.  Blatantly.  Executed.  Christians.  Which is what I am.  Which means, if we'd moved to Roseburg and sent our oldest to that college (could happen), our family could have been living through this nightmare right now, with all those other families who are living through it.  

I won't try to wax eloquent on that, but I read the first day's worth of news on that story, and I just...cracked.  I'm done.  I don't want to know what's going on out there any more.  I don't want to hear how evil people can be.  I don't want to see the endless debates about whether this was or was not a terrorist attack or how it revolves around gun control or not.  I don't want to see a constant stream of photos of loved ones grieving the sudden loss of a child/husband/fiance/friend.  I'm just...done.

I turned off the internet and walked away from my desk.  I spent a solid week avoiding my desk, except to work.  I had to use the internet connection to run customer credit card transactions and answer emails, but other than that, when I opened the Google main page with that search bar and all my saved page tabs at the top of the screen, I just stared at it for a minute, then clicked it *off* and walked away.

Actually, it gave me kind of a satisfyingly wicked sense of control to decline the invitation of that blinking mouse cursor, waiting for me to click my way back into the harsh reality that is the world today.  Kind of like that feeling you get when you really want a piece of cake but you're on a diet so you grab a carrot stick instead, and you feel all strong and grown up and girl power-ish.

So, I read more books.  I worked on a crochet Christmas gift.  I played with the dog.  I got re-obsessed with nail polish because why not?  I adore nail polish.  I continued with our South Beach diet, which is working and is a story for another post because yay, weight loss!

We went camping, even further from the world of internet and terrorists and in-your-face angst and online trolls (what is with the comments online? Are they even people?).  No cell service for 3 days was heaven.  I sat by the lake with the dog.  We sat around campfires with our large extended family of in-laws, cousins, nephews, nieces, and parents and just enjoyed each other and the mountains.  I read some more.  On the way up, I had to call a sister-in-law to ask her why all the flags were at half-mast, because I hadn't heard any news for over a week, and God forbid...what's happened now?  She wasn't sure, so I took that as a good sign that hopefully nothing earth-shattering had happened.  (I think it was for the funerals from the above event).

When we got home, I did get back online to keep my French lessons current, because that's just a goal I want to accomplish.  I  have enjoyed my Instagram account just for nail art and nail polish because, again, why not?  I haven't checked Twitter.  I haven't checked Facebook.  No, wait--I did log on accidentally and see my feed once, and the first thing I saw was a comment by a loved one that just made me want to scream "REALLY??!? You're saying that? ONLINE?"  I composed a message to elaborate my point, then deleted it and logged out. Walked away shaking my head.  I went back outside with my coffee and shook it off by listening to the waterfall and the birds, watched the yellow leaves rain down from our birch tree, and enjoyed that only-in-the-fall juxtaposition of sun on my face and cool nip in the breeze.

Ahh, much better.

OK, in all fairness to the internet and the goodness thereof, I do have a few blogs that I still read, because they show up in my email in box, and this morning I *did* have to Google "how to get the smell of dirty socks out of clean dried laundry" (which is probably self-explanatory, and also gives you a peek into my laundry life that is possibly TMI).

Other than that, I haven't been back online.  I just don't even care any more.  If any good news comes along, I'd be happy to hear about it.  Other than that, I'm just done.  Not hiding from reality, just...blocking it out of our house, which is our haven from the world, and I'm going to keep it that way.

Wow, that was a lot of words.  But then, if you're reading this, you're probably not surprised.

In case you skimmed this just to look at the pictures, here's a pictorial essay that says the same thing, but with less words.

So I turned off my internet...

...AND social media, because NO ONE CARES WHAT YOU'RE HAVING FOR DINNER

Yo.     Stop.

My friends, when I tell them I haven't been online for 10 DAYS..."Whaaat?"

Them:  "Doesn't that feel like you're living in a CAVE? How can you TURN OFF THE INTERNET?"

Me:  I already explained this.  WITH PICTURES.

It feels kind of like this...

...And THIS.  But with more laundry and dishes.  And less  beach

Still.  No internet = Very little negative crap in my life.

I WIN.




Still need more?

Hold my calls.  I'll be outside painting my nails.