Comply or Complain

I travelled down to Florida yesterday morning.  There are certain regulations at the airport that you must comply with.  My husband always complains about them.  If they tell you to take off your belt, take off your belt.  If they tell you to take off your shoes, take off your shoes.  If they ask you to put your loose change into a container, just do it.  As he did each step, he complained.  He joined the line and went through the Xray machine.  At the other end, he had to put his belt back on and  he complained.  When he had to put his shoes back on, he complained more.  By the time he put his change back into his pocket,  he was in a complaining frenzy.  As we walked towards the gate, I asked him if he had his ticket.  It was nowhere to be found.  We had to run back to security because he left it on the table as he was removing his belt.  The ticket was returned to him and he knew I was annoyed.  If he complied instead of complained he would never have lost his ticket.

Viscation

I know I spelled it VIScation. That is because although it is a vacation, it is the kind that you spend visiting people. It is a different type of time off. You sleep on uncomfortable beds and spend most of the trip talking. You do get to swim if the weather permits. Dinner is usually at a restaurant. Even though it is not restful, it is peaceful. I am speaking about peace of mind. Being with the family that you love dearly and knowing that they are doing well.

No Conscience

Yesterday I went to a book labeling party. One of my friends has a charity where she collects books and gives them to underprivileged children. A group of her friends got together at her house to put "This Book Belongs To" labels on the inside of each book. The labels are important as it gives a child a sense of owning something special. We sat around the dining room table sorting books, chatting and having snacks. It was such a nice afternoon. As my sister and I left, we saw that one of the women's cars had been hit. Not only hit but a bit demolished. Someone, I believe to be driving either a bus or a truck, sideswiped her car, dented her front panel and ripped the bumper totally off the car. I have never seen anything like that. A bumper tossed three feet away from the car. There was no note left. It was a hit and run. Even though it was not my car, my heart sank. You go to do something good and someone destroys your property. I do not know how people sleep at night.  

New Skills

Yesterday I was required to learn a new skill. I had to send a video to someone using  Dropbox. I had seen this option come up on the screen but never knew what it was. I had to first sign up, then download. I did that. Next I had to export the video into the program and create a link. I had no idea how to do that but I sat for hours until I learned. Once I was able to create the link I was able to attach it to the email and send. I was quite frustrated but I had no option. If worse came to worst I would have asked on of the doctors, but I do not like to be defeated until I have exhausted all roads.

My Childhood

My husband is slowly buying my childhood. Everything I owned in the 1960's is slowly being brought back into my house. I guess he never had his own toys when he was a kid so now at 63 he is recreating childhood.

New Forecasts

I am tired of the weather people being wrong. I stand by my "window forecast". Look outside and evaluate for yourself. For the past storm the predictions went from 3" to 5-8", to 12" and so on. For my area they stopped estimating at maybe 12". We got close to 2 feet. Why bother estimating when you are never right. From now on the forecast for winter storms should read as follows:
1) Get out your boots
2) Get out your high boots
3) Take Aleve now
 For summer it should be:
1) Take a bottle of water
2) Wear a sleeveless shirt
3) Put on extra deodorant
With these forecasts, we know where we stand. 

Good Neighbor

Yesterday my husband went out to shovel the 4 foot snow drifts. He has a snow blower but most regular blowers do not do more than 2 feet. You have to do the first 2 feet by hand. He sat on the front porch looking overwhelmed and then started to shovel. About five minutes later a man approached him and asked if he remembered him. My husband looked at the overweight, gray haired man and said he did not. The man then said that he was the next door neighbor's son. He was probably about 50 years old but looked older. We have not seen him for thirty years. He was always the nicest boy. He just must have visited his family when we were inside our house. He had one of his workers with him and they had a commercial snowblower. He told my husband that his worker was going to plow us out after he did his father's house. Within five minutes both houses were clear of snow. My husband gave the worker a $20 tip. It was as if a guardian angel swooped down to help. A good neighbor will always be a good neighbor, even thirty years later.