Sunday, September 30, 2012


P. D. James was one of my favorite writers until Children of Men; I didn’t care for it at all so it’s been a while since I’ve read her work. I checked out The Private Patient recently. It wasn’t one of her best, but it was certainly better than CofM.

Ms. James usually serves up a plot that brings out the puzzle solver in me, and I am in awe of her vocabulary. I know reading her books requires me to have a dictionary handy.

In The Private Patient, I found “solipsistic,” “similitude,”, “propitiate,” and “minatory”—all new to me except for “propitiate.” I know the word, “propitous” but had never seen the –iate suffix.

While the solution of the mystery was a little iffy, the vocabulary was terrific.

Friday, September 28, 2012

A First Time for Everything

Cole's baseball game was scheduled to begin at 6:15 pm. It was a beautiful afternoon--hardly a cloud in the sky.

The first inning finished with no runs for either side. The teams came out to begin the second inning. Suddenly a little meeting between the coaches and the umpires took place. Then the umpires left the field and the teams returned to their dugouts.

There had been a delay of game called because of . . . SUN!

Perhaps I should add that the batter, catcher, and homeplate umpire were facing the setting sun and couldn't see the ball. The delay last about 20 minutes until the sun dropped behind the trees.

We really don't have to discuss the final score, do we?

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Continuing. . .

Last night as we drove into town after attending Cole's game, what appeared behind us but those dreaded blue flashing lights. Yep, I suppose that with all the annoying stuff that's been happening to us lately, a traffic stop was inevitable. This one wasn't too bad; it was just a warning for a burned out headlight. With a few dollars spent the problem was corrected.

There was one little hiccup. The officer checked our license number. He came back to the car and asked to see the registration. He said that the number was reported to be the license for a Jeep. My first thought was someone had switched our plate for some nefarious reason which would cause us all kinds of problems. When he saw the registration, he said someone probably missed a keystroke. Whew! Thank heaven for typos!

Thursday, September 13, 2012

$eeing Red and Feeling Blue

Today about 12:30 p.m. Mr. Fixit came in from outside and told me that our white cat was in distress. When I saw the poor thing, his sides were heaving as if he were having breathing problems. He didn’t look well at all.

I rushed into the house to call our vet, but his answering service said that the office closed at noon on Thursdays. I was in a bit of distress myself and didn’t remember Thursday is their off day. I asked the service for a referral for emergency treatment and she gave me a name.

I called, explained the situation, and ask if I could bring him in for treatment. The person on the phone said I could bring him any time since they had no other appointments for the rest of the day.

She then said, “You will have to pay $88.00 as soon as you come into the office. Any other examinations or procedures are in addition to that $88.00.”

I said (with some attitude, I’ll admit), “I’ll be glad to pay the money up front if you can help my cat.” Perhaps she heard that I was upset and said, “I have to say that.”

Altruism with a price tag attached. I wonder if they ever turn away animals in pain because some poor person doesn’t have the $88.00 up front. I also wonder if they do any pro bono work at the local pound and shelters.

Note: We tried to catch him, but he was still able to run away as soon as he saw the carrier. He ran into the muscadine vines to hide. His breathing seems to be easing a little. I’ve been checking on him about every ten minutes. If we can catch him, we will take him to this place even though they sound like money-grubbing jerks. I hate the thought of losing him, but I hate the thought that he may be suffering even more.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Tip of the Day


This is a product I use when making cornbread and sometimes biscuits. I find that if I buy liquid buttermilk the expiration date comes long before I have used the quart container. With only two of us eating, I only make half of the recipe amounts. The instructions on the container of powder milk says, “Refrigerate after opening.” The only problem is that the product has a tendency to clump.

Tip of the Day:

When shaking container to declump, be sure the top is secure. If not, you could find buttermilk powder in your hair, covering your face, in your blouse, all over your kitchen floor, and, if you’re standing in front of your open refrigerator, coating every single container in the door storage area. As soon as the powder hits the humid air, it gets sticky and not a lot of fun to clean up.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Enough Already!

Saturday Mr. Fixit went to one of the grandchildren’s baseball tournament that was played in a town about 40 miles away. It was so hot and muggy I decided to stay home. Two games were scheduled. He decided to drive his truck and leave the car for me. I don’t like to drive the truck because the AC isn’t working. I didn’t have anything important to do anyway so it wouldn’t have mattered if he took the car.

On the way home from the game the front wheel of the truck came off. It didn’t go rolling down the highway, but the only things holding it on were some connections to some stuff under the truck (technical talk). He discovered later the ball joint broke. It’s a wonder he didn’t have a wreck. He was on a major highway with a speed limit in the area of 55 but was able to move from the center lane to the side of the highway without incident. The tire was ripped and the rim is ruined.

Luckily, he was ahead of our son and his family so they stopped to help him out. They arranged for a wrecker to bring the truck home.

He is having problems finding some help with it. The repair involves getting a machine shop to do some work. We are waiting now to hear from one telling us whether he will be able to help. In the meantime, Mr. Fixit is impatient and grumpy.

One more little problem to contend with. I’m getting a little grumpy myself.