Oops – I’ve Been Remiss

My husband played a distracting video as I typed yesterday’s post. So I blame him for my minor failure. ~grin~ Anyway, this January’s little adventure at the US Post Office should never have occurred in the first place. As usual, we were home all day when the supposed delivery attempt occurred.

~sigh~

This is nothing new, either. In the 2000’s I purchased a lot of overseas items via eBay. Several required a signature but the doorbell never rang once. I know this because my husband worked from home. Many times I wasted precious lunch hour minutes picking them up. Adding to the frustration, my complaint fell on deaf ears. At least none of those items disappeared.

Oh, well. It’s another minor irritant in a crazy world. But in an amusing twist, the same lady who couldn’t locate my package was the same who gave a blank stare upon hearing my gripe about our neighborhood USPS driver.

Moving on, I also intended to pose a serious question. Asking if any of my dear readers sent a package was not what I originally intended. Heh… It regards the quick receipt of my medicines.

Is it a reasonable supposition that postal services prioritize large scale shippers? Should I just keep my head down and be grateful?

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Customer Dis-Service

Early this month I found a slip in our mailbox announcing a postage due package needing picked up. The sender’s name was illegible. And seeing only our surname listed left us further clueless.

At the designated office a single clerk took several minutes handling another lady’s transaction. But with nothing pressing I stood uncomplaining. When my turn came this sole employee took my notice and disappeared into the back.

Meanwhile, two other individuals arrived. Before long they began murmured discussion over growing dissatisfaction. One said she had been waiting two weeks for a package from California and couldn’t even get an estimated delivery date. I commiserated, sharing similar experiences.

The other became anxious as she had left her dog locked in the car. She thought her business would take a mere minute or so. Hearing that the poor creature had just returned from a post-surgical vet visit prompted my awkward apology.

At last the postal worker returned – empty-handed and apologetic. She couldn’t find my package anywhere. I got the sense she intended to continue searching and urged her to take care of those behind me. So she wrote my name and phone number on a slip of paper in case it turned up.

I never heard from her again and my online attempts to request redelivery proved pointless. The system didn’t even recognize its own (!) barcode number. ~sigh~ Mere days before this my physician convinced me to use the moneysaving mail-order pharmacy service. As you can imagine, I doubted the wisdom of this decision.

Lo and behold, my medications arrived within a few days. What a surprising relief.

Have you encountered similar frustrations with your postal service? Is there any chance any of you dear readers sent me something?

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Near Miss & Navigational Miscommunication

On the way to our Jungle Jim’s International grocery store this morning I took a different route. The decided detour seemed easy enough; head westward until I reached Ohio State Route 4 southbound. I enjoyed the change of scenery and things went fine until my dear husband felt the need to pull up the navigation via his ‘smart’ phone.

As I reached the expected Rt. 4 bypass the voice told me to head north. That made no sense. But I followed this direction at his encouragement and the system promptly told me to head south. ~sigh~ With no room to take the turn I chose what seemed a safer route. Wrong.

We encountered a traffic light with left turn arrows for two lanes. Since there was no sign proclaiming a U-turn illegal my husband again urged this maneuver. To our dismay, traffic flowing eastward from our left also received the go ahead. I didn’t understand the danger until realizing this crazy intersection directed them not to a simple right hand turn but directly into our path in some weird high speed sort of roundabout. I stayed dedicated to my U-turn, didn’t slow down, and thus calmly avoided collision.

Don’t you wish for vehicular communication besides the horn, such as an apology signal? Is it wrong I (sort of) wanted to strangle my husband?

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An Eerie Revelation

Sorting through a box of things my father sent, I discovered a photo of my beloved maternal grandparents. A close inspection shocked me. Purchased off eBay probably fifteen years ago, my vintage eyeglass frames could have been the very ones Grandma wore during my childhood.

A Lovely Lady

I just wanted something different and thought this design looked interesting.

These came with trifocals.

She must have felt the same. I cannot tell if she wore bifocal lenses or trifocals.

Though you may not see it in her portrait,
the contrasting finishes look identical. 

Isn’t that wild? Has this sort of thing happened to you?

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Uprooted - One Carrot's Tale of Woe

I recall my youth like it was yesterday. Surrounded by family and friends, I felt that carefree summer would last forever.

It all ended so abruptly. That final day further stands out as one of the hottest any of us had experienced. A light breeze teased my hair as I half dozed under the golden sun.

The air stilled. Even the insects fell silent. Hearing a distant rumble, my sister and I shared a nervous glance. The earth began to quake. All hell broke loose.

Swirling soil blinded me. An unbearable roar drowned out her cries as our world was torn apart. I lost consciousness.

Rough jostling would occasionally awaken me. That same dizzying commotion always dragged me back under.

My senses returned. I lay among strangers. Immobile, we couldn’t communicate. The unnatural sky offered no warmth. Somehow worse, we had all been shorn of our feathery locks.

When the endless sensation of motion finally ended we found ourselves part of a twisted menagerie. Darkness fell for impossible lengths of time. Unpredictable blinding flashes interrupted our restless slumber.

My familiar comrades began disappearing, most by twos and threes. Now they are gone and I no longer recognize any of my fellow captives.

Orange skinned people arrive and leave just as fast. Some are so young it breaks my heart yet again, especially when they have retained their glorious green mane. I guess that’s my vestigial vanity talking. Regardless, none recognize me. Who can blame them?

I wouldn’t recognize my dear sister if she looked like I do today. Age has left me shriveled, with strange wart-like protrusions further marring my complexion. I imagine soon I’ll be no bigger than a seedling.

Shuffled to the bottom of our enclosure, at least I can hide from the light and get some proper rest. Maybe I’ll even dream.

To sleep, perchance to dream…

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Less Than Success...

Yesterday’s untrained foray into cutting my own hair has turned out, well… as Andrew considered the notion, ‘interesting’. My husband hasn’t said one word. I don’t think he’s noticed. He apparently has this stylized image of me that overlays reality. May be weird; it suits me just fine. Liz, I could indeed go to a salon but there seems no point since I have an avatar within the home we don’t often leave.

How I wish I still looked...

Ellen, you are wise to not use pinking sheers for this as Pam would no doubt tell you considering her more successful hairdo upkeep (I cannot imagine using anything more advanced than scissors on my hair). So while I thank you for the support, Katy Isabella, your kind sentiment should be awarded to Pam. At least the new look is passable. Heh…

My other minor failure was much more fun. I put one of Terra’s toy mice in an empty tissue box yesterday and she entertained us both with gleeful energy. Of course, by the time I thought of filming her antics she’d lost interest.

Can you believe my science minded husband can be helpful if I ask for wardrobe advice? Wouldn’t it be awesome if we could project our self image to the real world?

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In the Pink

After not getting a professional cut and color upon my hair since 2020 began, I find myself having fun with pinking sheers. Today I couldn’t stop toying with overlong locks and decided to have another go.

Have you heard the term ‘in the pink’? And are you familiar with pinking sheers?

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A Happy Face & Dire Straits

I placed the last of our fresh fruit on a paper plate after finding a moldy mandarin orange among the rest. Without a thought I looked down and saw this:

Another day, I discovered a very sad vegetable left behind in the refrigerator. The little guy deserves a story but so far I haven’t moved forward on that.

Have you ever found a bit of desiccated produce in your kitchen? Did you know sweet potatoes can ferment if left to rot?

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