440 New Journal

Well, I am moving to http://TheSilkenTouch.blogspot.com. Maybe temporarily, maybe permanently. We'll see.

I'm NOT moving because of the ads AOL has decided to burden us with. I don't like them, but I could stand them. I'm experimenting with moving because in the 250+ emails I got yesterday and today about the AOL community's furor over the ads, a lot of people said interesting things about other blog hosts, so I looked at a few, and I liked what I saw.

Blogspot doesn't have some of the stuff AOL Journals has, like alerts for readers, but it's got other stuff like much easier editing, and you can preview and accept or reject comments from other people BEFORE they are posted in your blog.

The user interface is awkward at first - like I didn't know I had to log into www.blogger.com to update the blog at blogspot, and I went around in a lot of circles before I found out how to edit certain sections - but if you play with it for a while, it all starts to hang together and make sense.

And it's free.

So until I say otherwise, that's where I am now.

Come on over to http://TheSilkenTouch.blogspot.com, and check out my new format.

~~Silk

#439 This Journal Will Be Moving

Since AOL has added advertising to our journals, I am considering joining throngs of other AOLers in moving to another host. I have begun a new journal at http://TheSilkenTouch.blogspot.com. There's nothing much there yet, and I plan to explore a few more options, but I thought I'd let you know, I'm packing up.

Dinner last night with a friend. Mixed reviews. He had lemon chicken, and it was so lemony it literally took his breath away, in the not-good sense. Both of us had partially cooked pasta, too chewy. On the other hand, my chicken S-something-or-other (a chicken Cordon-Bleu in a wonderful mushroom cream sauce) was delicious.

He's one of the few men I've known who will actually complain when a restaurant meal isn't up to par. He was obviously annoyed and would have sent the pasta back except that it took 45 minutes to arrive, which is exactly what he said to the waitress.

I'm not sure what I think of that. On the one hand I admire his assertiveness. On the other hand, it frightens me a little. So far I've been able to get away with annoying him occasionally (I hope it's occasional), but how much can I get away with before he tells me my pasta is tough?

I think that his frightening me a little is part of the attraction. Passing my fingers through the flame, maybe.

~~Silk

#438 Old Letters

While I am cleaning out the paper in the den, I am finding a lot of old correspondence.  It's amazing to revisit my mind from years back.  I'm afraid that's something that today's youth will miss.  With all their correspondence being of the ephemeral variety (online, phone), they will have less opportunity to revisit their younger mind.

Anyway, it has slowed down the house clearing project considerably.

I am finding many letters and (paper) journal entries I had written to and about Jay back in the beginning, when we first realized how things were between us, but we didn't know what to do about it.  I am amazed that many of the same things I felt then, I am feeling again now.  But I'm much calmer about it now.  I guess because there's no "baby lust" now.  No "tick, tick" of the hormonal clock.

I found very upbeat and positive letters from my youngest sister, written two years before she drank herself to death.

I am also finding letters I had written to friends and Jay's sisters when we were fighting his cancer.  Now, I can't believe what we went through.  Really rough.  One of the letters was the infamous "Christmas letter" of 2000.  Jay's entire extended family is really big on the "our year" letters, where you brag about the wonderful year your family has had.  I dislike the whole concept.  If you can't keep in touch during the year, what makes you think people want all that information at the end of the year.  But, as a member of the family, I had to meet expectations.  (Although I flatly refused to send those silly photo postcards.)

I had missed writing the 1999 letter because the tumor had reoccurred, right before Jay was supposed to get the bone marrow transplant, and the whole treatment plan was changed, there was another craniotomy, daily radiation, and so on, and everything was just too frantic.  I didn't even get cards out in 1999, let alone a letter.  So the 2000 letter covered two years of brain cancer battle.  I mean, how could it not?  That's ALL we'd done for two years. 

I will never forget (or forgive) a subsequent telephone call from one of his sisters.  Her comment on the letter was "Merry Christmas" in a very bitter tone, "way to throw a wet towel on everybody's holiday."  Gee.  Sorry about that.

So I'm reading and keeping instead of simply  sorting and pitching.  A temporary hitch in the git-along.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
BTW - Piper called early this afternoon, and I answered the phone in the kitchen.  I needed to get some information from the den for him, so I set the kitchen phone down, and picked up in the den.  We talked for long enough that I forgot that the kitchen phone was off the hook.  So if anyone tried to call me today, that's why you couldn't get me.  Sorry.

~~Silk

#437 The Wine Tasting Outing

Programmers' Drinking Song

99 little bugs in the code,
99 little bugs,
You fix one bug, compile it again,
100 little bugs in the code.

100 little bugs in the code,
100 little bugs,
....
Repeat until bugs=0.

___________________________________

Well, I missed the wine tasting yesterday.  The newsletter said it was in Pine Bush, so I dragged out the map and found Pine Bush on route 209, north of Kerhonkson.  The directions further said to follow the "wine trail" signs to the winery.  Pizza afterward at a pizzeria in Pine Bush.  I gave myself an hour and 15 minutes to get there.

There were NO signs for Pine Bush on 209.  I went all the way to Ellenville, then back north to Kerhonkson, then  back to Ellenville, then back to Kerhonkson, then I found an old man who told me that Pine Bush was on route 52.
"Go to south Ellenville, then turn right in town onto 52.  You'll see a sign for Pine Bush."
"Turn right on 52?  That's west, right?"
"Yeah."

I found 52, and turned right at the "Pine Bush 12 mi" sign.  A few blocks later, the road split.  52 west went right, 52 east went left.  No Pine Bush sign.  Old man said right, right?  West, right?   Right.  I took the right.  Twelve miles later, there sure enough was a little town, but it wasn't Pine Bush.

Found another old man.  "Um, am I anywhere near Pine Bush?"
Laughter.  "Nope.  You gotta go back to Ellenville, go straight through town, and up t'mountain on t'other side.  Pine Bush will be on 52, about 12 miles t'other side of Ellenville."

By the time I got to Pine Bush (which was in the next county down, by the way, and therefore this version of Pine Bush wasn't on my map), I was an hour and a half late.  So I gave up on the winery and found the pizza parlor.  Where I found the Mensa group.  Which consisted of the two organizers.  They had just ordered. 

It's just as well that I hadn't looked for the winery.  The couple wondered where everybody else was, and I suggested that maybe they were wandering the highway between Ellenville and Kerhonkson, or somewhere west of Ellenville.  Laughter.  Then the guy who had written the directions speculated that they might be wandering out there somewhere nearby.  He said it was just as well that I hadn't tried to find the winery.  It seems that the "Wine Trail" signs I was supposed to follow don't point to this particular winery.

Ah, typical Mensa. 

Turns out there are at least two Pine Bushes in New York state - a village and a hamlet locally (a hamlet being a wide spot in the road).  Just as there are two Rochesters - the city and the town.  There are two Red Hooks - a village and a scary section near the NYC docks.  There are lots of duplicate names.  I don't know how the postal service handled it before zip codes.

Ah, typical New York.

~~Silk

#436 Patrick's Saturday Six - Episode 83

The famous Saturday Six, from Patrick at "Patrick's Place", http://journals.aol.com/pattboy92/PatricksPlace/entries/1341.

1. You are invited to spend a night, alone, in a large house that is believed to be haunted.  A close friend of yours whom you trust tells you of his or her own experience, and you have sufficient reason to believe that there may be a genuine haunting going on there.  Without promise of any kind of reward for staying the night, would you agree to do so?  Yes.  If there are no ghosts, it would be interesting.  If there are ghosts it would be interesting. 

2. What do you most enjoy about your job?  Being retired.   

3. Who was the last person you had a conversation with?  What was the main topic of the conversation?  Well, in the past few hours I've talked with the deli lady about how good the bacon smelled, and a telephone discussion with my gutter man about his coming to clean the gutters today, but I don't consider those real conversations.  The last real conversation would have been with Roman about what's going on in his life and how it affects us.

4. Take this quiz:   What kind of "smart" are you?  All-around.  Big deal.

5. What was the last food that you totally ruined -- to the point that it was inedible -- when trying to cook?  Oh, come on.  I ruin everything that requires mixing ingredients or more than a little heating.  Restaurants and doggie bags are how I "cook".  Mostly I eat yogurt, raw vegetables, and fruit.  Monkey diet.

6. STRANGELY-OBSCURE QUESTION #1:  If you had to do over again, would you change anything?  If I could do it over knowing what I know now, I would not have been coerced into marriage #1, I'd have waited for Obie, I'd have stayed in teaching rather than joining The Company back in 1968, I'd have flirted with a certain person at my last job (I didn't know what he had to offer), I'd have forced my baby sister into rehab, stuff like that.  But then I wouldn't have had Jay or Daughter.  So many possible branches on the tree, each with its own pros and cons.  Mainly I wish I could say that at every juncture I did the best I could.  Unfortunately, I didn't always.  I guess that's the big thing I'd change - I wish I had followed my own heart and mind more.

PS - Back to #3 - My gutters are getting cleaned right now, and I had a nice conversation with him about cruises.  He's a talker.  I showed him my pictures from the Hawaiian cruise, and he helped me locate the site for the wine tasting this afternoon.  When he's finished with the gutters, I'm going to ask him to help me get the African screen out of the van.  That would be such a relief!  He also cleans vinyl siding, and knows a good roofer, so we're lining up next spring's projects.

~~Silk

#435 Disappearing Saturday

Here it is Sunday already, and I haven't the faintest idea where Saturday went.

After finally falling asleep at about 4 am, I got up at 9 Saturday morning to go to the recycle center.  I unloaded some storage containers from the van, and then filled the body of the van with cut-up cardboard, plastic-glass-foil mix, some basement paper, and one of my four vacuum cleaners.

Explanation for four vacuum cleaners:  The one I took to recycle is a huge heavy upright Hoover.  Cleans well, very powerful, but it had come with Jay, and it's just too big and heavy for me, and won't fit under the furniture.  I dislike uprights anyway, because you have to move the whole danged thing when you use it.  Cleaner number 2 is a good and expensive canister, but the power head choked on oriental fringe one day and burned out.  When I couldn't get it fixed real quick, I bought a small cheap canister to use until I could get the good one fixed.  That was back when we had two dogs and a long-hair cat, and we couldn't possibly go a month without vacuuming.  Then I finally got mad at not being able to easily find bags (or remember which bags to buy), so last fall I bought a bagless vacuum.  I LOVE it!

The recycle center has set up a building where you can take books and almost any kind of household stuff and anybody can take away anything they want.  I've found some wonderful books there, and I've gotten rid of television sets, Christmas trees, knick-knacks, and packing materials.  Local Bard college students furnish their digs from that building.  (They won't accept the recliner.  Too big and too hard to dispose of if no one takes it.)

And that's the last thing I remember until Ballykissangel came on and I watched the Saturday PBS Brit-com lineup.

I don't have the faintest idea where the rest of the day went.

Tomorrow (Sunday) - wine tasting at a valley winery, with Mensa, followed by pizza. (??)  If I get up in time.

~~Silk

#434 Amorous Definitions

Casanova
1.  A man who is amorously and gallantly attentive to women.
2.  A promiscuous man; a philanderer.[After Giovanni Jacopo CASANOVA DE SEINGALT.]
------------------------------------------------------
Lothario
1.  A man amorously attentive to women
2.  A man who seduces women
3.  A man whose chief interest is seducing women
-------------------------------------------------------
Gallant
1.  Adj.      a. Courteously attentive especially to women; chivalrous.
                 b. Flirtatious; amorous.
2.  Noun    a.  A man courteously attentive to women.
                 b. A woman's lover; a paramour.


Hmmmm.  A gallant(with emphasis on the chivalrous) Lothanian(1,2) Casanova(1), definitely.   At least that's how he affects me.  You'd never guess it looking at him!   Except when he takes his glasses off and tips his head back and smiles.  Then he becomes very handsome ... and I swear I see the horns sprouting. 

Ladies, protect your hearts!

~~Silk

#433 News and Stuff

When I listen to the radio, it's NPR.  When I watch TV news, it's usually BBC.  So I do get a lot of international news.  I get the local newspaper, but seldom get anything out of it beyond the crossword.  Background on international news is obtained from weekly news magazines.  So yes, I am aware of the situation in France.  No, I have no opinion as to the cause or the cure.  80% of the rioters don't either - they just joined in 'cause it looked like fun.  Ok?  I await the analysis of someone more tuned than I.  In the meantime, I worry about a few French acquaintances, although I guess the danger is to their cars or businesses more than their persons, so far, anyway.  

In news closer to home, my little world has righted itself.  Friend and I are on a different track than before, with a new and much clearer understanding.  I am content.  For the immediate future, anyway.

I will break my "no comment on the news" rule for an observation on two news items I came across recently:

Item 1:  The "free" television networks - you know, the ones who agree to let you watch their programming free in exchange for watching the commercials, i.e. ad-supported content - are worried that they are on their way out, undermined by recorders and cable - i.e. fee for content.  Their world is changing and they don't know how to respond.

Ok.

Item 2: Microsoft (fee for content) is worried that they will be losing market share to "free" software (ad-supported).  Their world is changing and they don't know how to respond.

Exactly the opposite from the TV folks.

There's something amusing about that.


~~Silk

#432 Pride and Prejudice

I wanted to see the movie Pride and Prejudice tonight.  The TV ads said it was opening tonight.  Apparently not anywhere in the Hudson valley from Albany to Newburgh!  Blech!  I am disappointed.

I applied the weatherstripping to the front door frame, and believe it or not, it wasn't thick enough.  I had to apply two full layers.  Since there's only 10 feet on a roll, I have to go buy another roll to finish the job.

Cold air comes in under the door too, and I don't know what to do about that.  It's a steel door, so it's not easy to screw some kind of plate to the bottom. 

More paper burning today.  More cardboard cutting.  Recycle center tomorrow.  I am amazing myself by what I am willing to throw out.  The biggest problem is that there doesn't seem to be anywhere to "throw" some of this stuff.  What does one do with a mouse-scented recliner?

~~Silk

#431 Thursday

Quick short entry - for Thursday.

Last night (Wednesday), dinner with Mensa, a Greek restaurant.  I had something that was exactly like cinnamon egg custard with meat in it, two different varieties that looked and tasted exactly the same, and a tiny snip of spinach pie that was very good.  And what was supposed to be tiramisu, but looked and tasted like melted marshmallow with two lady fingers stuck in it.

One of our members has Tourette Syndrome and a seizure disorder.  He gets rides with other members to the dinners, since he daren't drive.  Last night during dinner, he noticed that his right hand was trembling, but not the left, and said that meant he would have a seizure in about two hours.  Then pretty soon he said that there were "funny colors", which meant it was coming on faster, maybe an hour.  The guy he had come with was planning to do some grocery shopping on the way home, and since I have experience with seizures (Jay's) so they don't frighten me, and would pass the guy's apartment, I volunteered to give him a ride home.

It was a pretty interesting ride.  I got him to his home before any seizure, but MAN, could he talk!  He kept apologizing for being so talkative - said that that's a symptom of the seizures - but he talked and talked faster and faster, and was actually pretty interesting.  He's an interesting person.  Weird, but interesting.

I went to the hardware store today to buy weather stripping for the front door.  I had bought some really fancy magnetic stuff a few years ago and couldn't install it then because the falling-apart stuff on the door was nailed in between the two parts of the frame and I couldn't get it out.  Now that has finally completely disintegrated - but now, of course, I can't find the fancy stuff.  Oh, well.  The stick-on foam strip I bought is cheap and easily removed, so if I ever do find the good stuff, I'm ready.

Anyway, when I left the hardware store, I discovered I didn't want to go home.  I drove and drove the back roads, some I'd never been on before, up and down steep hills through sparsely populated lands, trying to get lost.  Beautiful scenery.  I'll never find it again.  Ended up at Taghkonic Lake.  Took the Taconic Parkway back home.

Spent the evening cutting up cardboard boxes and burning paper.  The living room is starting to look ... um ... possible.

~~Silk

#430 Burning Thirty Years

I looked at all the paper to be discarded.  What's upstairs was all bundled to go to the recycle center.  The way it works, the town sells the "good" paper - shiny catalogs, office paper, glossy newspaper inserts, but they have to pay to have "rough" paper, newspapers and light cardboard, hauled away.

They have one truck body (I don't know how else to describe it) for each.  The rough paper one fills up fast.  I usually go late on Saturday mornings (they are open also on Wednesday mornings), and there's usually very little space left for newspapers.

If I brought even a quarter of all this stuff at once, they'd bar me from the place forever.  And what's upstairs is tiny compared to what's in the basement.  Jay never threw out a piece of paper in his life, and what I'm finding downstairs has moved from Pittsburgh to White Plains, to Dallas, to here with him.  Thirty years worth.

If I try to take a reasonable amount per trip, it would take forever.

I have a fireplace.

Heh, heh.

It took nine hours over the past two evenings, but I have burned all the upstairs paper.

I stink.

One thing I discovered is that the "rough" stuff and office paper burns easily and quickly, with nice white, yellow, and red flame.  Catalogs and magazines are difficult to burn.  Plus, they burn with blue and green colored flames, which means a lot of metals in the material, which means pollution.  They are a pain.

So, I'm not going to attempt to burn the shiny paper in the basement.  But burning only the rough paper will reduce the quantity left to go to the dump or recycle considerably, so that's what I'll do.  And the town can make a little money on the shiny.

Plus, I'm a bit of a pyromaniac.  I love to watch the flames.

Win-win situation.

~~Silk

#429 Interpretation

Sometimes you can't really know what someone is saying to you.  You hear the words, but sometimes the words carry a meaning different from their dictionary definition.  If you have no other basis for interpretation, you interpret from your own base.  In an intimate relationship, the only way to fully understand the other person's messages, or lack thereof, is to understand their motivations, how their mind works.

If you don't understand that, you don't have an intimate relationship.   You're just skimming along the surface. 

~~Silk

#428 How to Lose Votes

Tomorrow is local election day.  I'll be so glad when it's over.  Every day for the past two weeks I've had at least two people knock on my front door, or, if I'm not home, leave paper (agh!  Paper!  More paper!) rubberbanded to the doorknob.

My mail has been two-thirds election flyers.

I get a minimum of six taped phone calls a day urging me to vote for so-and-so.  If they call and I don't pick up, there's a series of "hangup"s on the machine, which repeats over and over until either I get home and answer, or they fill the tape up, so I can't get real messages.  That has happened twice in the past week.

Ordinarily, even when I'm home, I let the machine answer before I pick up (it's not really screening, because if it's someone I know I always do respond regardless of who it is).  But the past few weeks, since I've been getting more calls from someone I want to hear from, I've been jumping to answer the phone more often.

Now I am very anxious to hear from him.  Yesterday and today, every time the phone rang, I leapt for it with hope that it's the right person, and when it's another taped candidate message, I am crushed.  More roller coasters.

A few minutes ago another representative of a candidate rang the doorbell, and tried to hand me paper for candidate X.  I looked at the photo on the card and said "Yes.  I've been getting LOTS of mail from her."  He had the grace to look crestfallen, and said "Yeah.  I was afraid of that."  I guess he's been getting an earful from people as annoyed as I.

He took his paper away with him.

Trash/recycle collection in this area is frightfully expensive.

~~Silk

#427 May

I haven't eaten anything yet today, other than six ounces of yogurt.  I don't really feel like eating, but felt I should.  The refrigerator is full of doggie bags again, so I reached in and grabbed the closest, which happened to be the steak from last night.  One look made me feel even less like eating.  Blah.  I don't eat when I'm happy, and I don't eat when I'm unhappy.  With the roller coaster I've been on lately, it's no damn wonder I'm losing weight.

So I called May instead.  I've been neglecting her.  Last I knew, her cousin was staying with her while undergoing cancer treatment at Sloan-Kettering, so knowing that she had company, I didn't call as often as I thought of her. 

Turns out the cousin stayed only a few days, then went back home for treatment.  Agh.  I feel like such a bad friend.

We talked for about two hours.  She sounded pretty good, and she didn't seem to notice that I'd been remiss.  Two hours is about average for a phone conversation with her, but she usually tells the same (The Company) stories every call.  Tonight was all new, and very enjoyable.  We talked about cancer treatments, doctors, medical insurance, social security and medicare, class action suits and lawyers, charitable trusts, taxes, and investments.  All new topics.  

I'll have to contact NJKC and see if we can find time for the three of us to have dinner some evening.

Correction.  Some weekend.  My weekends are always free.  Probably even more free now.

Snort!

Going from sad to angry is probably a good sign.

~~Silk

#426 Sad

I drove into the village today and walked.  And walked and walked and walked until my right hip threatened to lock.  It's a small village.  I had to circle several neighborhoods twice.  It was another beautiful day, and I guess the village will be vacuuming up leaves soon, because at about every third house someone was out blowing or raking leaves to the curb. 

I had a lot to think about, and if I sat at home I'd think in circles and spiral down, so I walked and walked until the sun went down.  Now I'm too tired to think, but I'm still thinking anyway.  I am very sad.

Men are too much trouble.  Too hard to even attempt to understand.  Especially closed and evasive men.  I've pretty much had it.  Either he opens up and stops hiding from me, or I have to walk away.  If I stay, it will be on a different basis, with a different understanding.  I dumped that on him last night, and now it's up to him.  So I don't know why I'm still thinking so much - there's nothing left for me to decide.  I'm tired of feeling like I'm getting just leftover crumbs (he says I'm not, but that's how it feels), and that's about it.

I do understand that he has been emotionally battered, and that he needs to protect himself.  But if he doesn't understand by now that I won't hurt him that way, there's nothing more I can do.  I asked him to think about it and not to call me for a few days. 

So as soon as I got in the house this evening, naturally I looked to see if there was a message on the phone.  And I could cry because there isn't.  I'm a mess.

To make things worse, I'm afraid he's got a health issue, and he won't let me in enough to commiserate or help.

At the end of my walk, I stopped at the CVS and bought a pack of cigarettes and another box of the nicotine patches.  I stopped using the patches two or three weeks ago because even level 2 is too strong for me.  Every few days I'd buy a pack of cigarettes and smoke two or three of them, then fill the rest of the pack with water and throw them away.  Those two or three were sufficient to satisfy the craving, and to remind me that I don't really get all that much out of them. 

But I fully intend to smoke this entire pack.  All tonight if possible.  I'll start up with the patches again tomorrow.  But tonight I need the calming, and I don't drink or drug, so nicotine is it.

Don't yell at me.  I'm doing the best I can.

~~Silk

#425 Distressing the Cat

Miss Thunderfoot and I have been having some kind of misunderstanding.  She seems to think I'm trying to starve her.  Today I realized that cats don't understand about the fall time change.  Dinner time is an hour later, and she doesn't like that.

Walked again today.  I don't know how far, but my thighs and hip joints are tired.   Probably from yesterday's lifting stuff destined for the basement.  That's coming along, but not as quickly as I'd like.  Don't know if I'll make that Thanksgiving deadline I'd set, but I'm trying.  There's just too much other stuff going on, too.  Busy busy.  Fun fun.  Run, Silky, run! 

~~Silk

#424 Spanking Works!

I was setting up a canvas and cedar wardrobe in the basement today for my fluffier coats, that won't fit in the tiny coat closet upstairs, and I was a little concerned because it seemed a bit dampish down there.  There's a dehumidifier, but it wasn't running.  I turned it up the "dryer" end of the dial, and it still didn't start.  Up to "constant", and still nothing.  Eeeek!  I've got several thousand dollars worth of fabric and trims down there, not to mention the coats I'm about to store.  This is not good.  "Musty" is not good.

I checked all the plugs and the circuit breaker, and everything looked right.  It wasn't a full pan because it's connected to a drain in the floor.  I decided I was going to have to buy a new dehumidifier tomorrow.

I went back to putting the wardrobe together, and at one point I set the hammer down on a stack of boxes.  The top box shifted, and the hammer fell on the dehumidifier.

It started right up.

I guess those people who pound on appliances when they're balky know a thing or two.

~~Silk

#423 Windy Wednesday

I went to the deli, bank, and drugstore this afternoon, and decided to walk a bit while I was in the village.  It was very windy and very cold, and I wasn't dressed warmly enough, but I did it anyway, because it's good for my weight and good for my back.  Time to put gloves in the car again, for "just in case".

I wasn't wearing my watch, so I got very confused as to what time it was.  Several shops that were supposed to be open until at least 5 pm were closed, so even though I thought it was earlier, I decided it must be after 5.  And then when I passed the Indian restaurant, which opens for dinner at 5, it was closed.  Huh?

It was about 4:30 when I got home, so now I'm wondering why all those shops were closed.

Very strange.

~~Silk

#422 Phone Tag

I set aside time this evening to do some paperwork, and most of it was consumed by the telephone. 

Daughter called, but she was about to get into the car to go home from work, so she asked me to call her back in a half hour.

I did.  But she had stopped at the grocery store, was putting bags in the car, and asked me to call her back in ten minutes, she'd be home by then.

In the meantime, my friend from the end of  entry #419 called.  He had tried to call Monday afternoon (but I was still at lunch), tried to leave a message to say that he had a meeting last night and couldn't call later.  But my machine wouldn't take a message, he got double beeps (I had five "blank" messages on my machine when I got home), so I didn't kill him.  However, I told him I had to call Daughter, she seemed to want to ensure I'd be available, there must be something up, so I'd call him back after I talked with her.

Called Daughter.  We talked for a while.  Nothing earthshattering.  I wondered (to myself) why she seemed so anxious to talk with me.

After I hung up with Daughter, I called my friend back, on the cell phone, and settled in for a long and satisfying conversation.

During my talk with him, Daughter (I am assuming) tried to call my cell (yes, I have call waiting, but I never learned how to use it), then she tried the house phone, and I heard her leave a message on the answering machine that she DID have an issue she needed to talk with me about, and was now ready to talk about it.

Friend and I were into something, so I didn't immediately kick him off the phone, but then the house phone rang again, and there was no message left, so I figured Daughter was getting anxious, so ...  and my memory gets a bit fuzzy here, but to the best of my recall this is how it went ... I told him I'd have to call Daughter again, and I'd call him back. 

He has the patience of a saint.

Called Daughter.  She and Hercules were eating dinner, and she "couldn't talk now".  Call back later.  I waited a half hour and called again, and I got her cell voice mail.  Four times over the next 20 minutes.

Gave up and called my friend back.  I felt bad about hanging up on him twice and then making him wait so long.  We continued and finished our conversation.

Called Daughter again.  I had gotten her voice mail earlier because she had been talking to someone else (yes, she does have call waiting, and she does know how to use it).   And no, she didn't want to talk about whatever the big issue was anymore because she had gotten out whatever she had to say with whomever she had been talking with while I had my friend on hold and had been trying to get hold of her.

I think she was annoyed that I seemed to have put my friend before her.

I am frustrated and annoyed that I was unable to make any kind of connection with her, and I didn't get my paperwork done.  I'm going to be up half the night again tonight.

Whatever!!!!!!

~~Silk

#421 My Age in Seconds

From http://www.paulsadowski.com/birthday.asp

You entered: 10/27/1944

Your date of conception was on or about 4 February 1944.

You were born on a Friday
under the astrological sign Scorpio.
Your Life path number is 1.

The Julian calendar date of your birth is 2431390.5.
The golden number for 1944 is 7.
The epact number for 1944 is 5.
The year 1944 was a leap year.

As of 11/1/2005 3:24:11 PM CST
You are 61 years old.
You are 733 months old.
You are 3,184 weeks old.
You are 22,285 days old.
You are 534,855 hours old.
You are 32,091,324 minutes old.
You are 1,925,479,451 seconds old.
You are 8.72211350293542 dog years old. (You old hound dog, you!)

There are 360 days till your next birthday
on which your cake will have 62 candles

Those 62 candles produce 62 BTUs,
or 15,624 calories of heat (that's only 15.6240 food Calories!) .
You can boil 7.09 US ounces of water with that many candles.  

In 1944 there were approximately 2.5 million births in the US.
In 1944 the US population was approximately 131,669,275 people, 44.2 persons per square mile.
In 1944 in the US there were approximately 1,595,879 marriages (12.1%) and 264,000 divorces (2%)
In 1944 in the US there were approximately 1,417,000 deaths (10.8 per 1000)


Your birthstone is Tourmaline
The Mystical properties of Tourmaline

Pink Tourmaline promotes female balance and protection. Green Toumaline promotes male balance.

Some lists consider these stones to be your birthstone. (Birthstone lists come from Jewelers, Tibet, Ayurvedic Indian medicine, and other sources)

Opal, Jasper

Your birth tree is

Walnut Tree, the Passion

Unrelenting,strange and full of contrasts, often egoistic, aggressive, noble, broad horizon, unexpected reactions, spontaneous, unlimited ambition, no flexibility, difficult and uncommon partner, not always liked but often admired, ingenious strategist, very jealous and passionate, no compromises.

There are 54 days till Christmas 2005!

The moon's phase on the day you were
born was waxing gibbous.

It says I was born on a Friday, which I hadn't known before. "... Friday's child is loving and giving."

~~Silk

#420 From a Mensa Group Site

One evening a grandson was talking to his grandmother about current events.  The grandson asked his grandmother what she thought about the shootings at schools, the computer age, and just things in general.

The Grandma replied, "Well, let me think a minute, I was born before:

       ' television

       ' penicillin

       ' polio shots

       ' frozen foods

       ' Xerox

       ' contact lenses

       ' Frisbees and

       ' the pill

There was no:

       ' radar

       ' credit cards

       ' laser beams or

       ' ball-point pens

Man had not invented:

       ' pantyhose

       ' air conditioners

       ' dishwashers

       ' clothes dryers

       ' and the clothes were hung out to dry in the fresh air and

       ' man hadn't yet walked on the moon


Your Grandfather and I got married first, . . . and then lived
together.

Every family had a father and a mother.

Until I was 25, I called every man older than me, "Sir".
And after I turned 25, I still called policemen and every man with a title, "Sir."

We were before gay-rights, computer- dating, dual careers, daycare centers, and group therapy.

Our lives were governed by the Ten Commandments, good judgment, and common sense.

We were taught to know the difference between right and wrong and to stand up and take responsibility for our actions.

Serving your country was a privilege; living in this country was a bigger privilege.

We thought fast food was what people ate during Lent.

Having a meaningful relationship meant getting along with your cousins.

Draft dodgers were people who closed their front doors when the evening breeze started.

Time-sharing meant time the family spent together in the evenings and weekends -not purchasing condominiums.

We never heard of FM radios, tape decks, CDs, electric typewriters, yogurt, or guys wearing earrings.

We listened to the Big Bands, Jack Benny, and the President's speeches on our radios.

And I don't ever remember any kid blowing his brains out listening to Tommy Dorsey.

If you saw anything with 'Made in Japan ' on it, it was junk.

The term 'making out' referred to how you did on your school exam.

Pizza Hut, McDonald's, and instant coffee were unheard of.

We had 5 &10-cent stores where you could actually buy things for 5 and 10 cents.

Ice-cream cones, phone calls, rides on a streetcar, and a Pepsi were all a nickel.

And if you didn't want to splurge, you could spend your nickel on enough stamps to mail 1 letter and 2 postcards.

You could buy a new Chevy Coupe for $600, . . . but who could afford one? Too bad, because gas was 11 cents a gallon.

In my day:

       ' "grass" was mowed,

       ' "coke" was a cold drink,

       ' "pot" was something your mother cooked in and

       ' "rock music" was your grandmother's lullaby.

       ' "Aids" [aides] were helpers in the Principal's office,

       ' " chip" meant a piece of wood,

       ' "hardware" was found in a hardware store and

       ' "software" wasn't even a word.

And we were the last generation to actually believe that a lady needed a husband to have a baby. No wonder people call us "old and confused" and say there is a generation gap... and how old do you think I am?

I bet you have an old lady in mind...you are in for a shock!

Read on to see -- pretty scary if you think about it and pretty sad at the same time.

This woman would be only 58 years old!

Actually, this list must be a little old, needs updating, because radar was in use right about the time I was born.  But still....

~~Silk