rant – Page 4 – The Hermits' Rest

I Deserve a Medal

Whew. Today I exhibited more patience than I knew I had, and finally triumphed over the maze of confusion known as AT&T/Direct TV customer support. I win.

My actual reward is a glass of lemonade. I deserve it, too.

Refreshing, though everything makes me choke since I was sick.

You see, last week our DirectTV stopped working. I called to get repairs scheduled, because Lee is easily annoyed with service providers. I believed I had it scheduled for today.

I was as relaxed as Penney in her cool, freshly dug hole, guarded by the Giant Shedding Machine.

In the meantime, we joined the modern world, and hooked the Apple TV up so we could watch television on it. Well, except that DirectTV and Disney are quarreling again, so we had to watch ABC on the antenna.

Aaron Rogers, shown in antenna TV, expresses my frustration.

Over the weekend we used streaming, which we’d been avoiding due to our rural bandwidth issues. It feels so modern to watch football on Peacock and Tulsa King on Paramount +. Kathleen will be very proud of us.

Then came today. No repair person showed. So, I dialed the number someone had left in a text. It was a magic number. It let me actually get help and service. In a mere 2.5 hours I got all my telecommunications needs met. It was a LONG 2.5 hours.

First I talked to a nice woman who determined that no repair person came because there is ONE technician in our area (Waco) and they got injured last week. Apparently they tried calling me but it came up as Spam Risk so I didn’t answer, and they didn’t leave messages. Grr. DirectTV is looking for a substitute, but as of now, I have no prospect of getting the dish realigned.

What a load of bull. Wait, that’s a cow.

Next, I talked to a billing guy. He was hard to understand, but tried to figure out my bill and my two different accounts. What he accomplished was to get money taken off our bill since we have no satellite. He was also able to tell me what phone numbers were associated with our account. Holy cow, there were eight. Four phones, a hotspot, two watches, and a “device” of some kind. That was unsatisfactory. I now understood why Lee said the phone bill was so high. That had to change. But billing guy couldn’t do that.

Beautiful Mabel approves. She grew a mane!

That fellow successfully transferred me to a very nice young woman who works for the mobility department, which is extra separate from the television department, the billing department, and the internet department. This woman and I spent at least an hour straightening things out. The bill is now halved, with fewer gigs on the RV hotspot, only phones for me and my children (yes, even the uncommunicative one), and no watches. We determined they don’t need to have their own numbers. I’d been trying to get these things cancelled for months, but the “helpful” app wouldn’t let me get to my phone info.

Modern life is hard.

But I’m stubborn and persistent as a Fiona.

I did enjoy talking to the agent about camping, Native American history, and the weird weather lately. That’s what happens when you’re kind to the people on the phone. She worked hard to fix my account, too.

However, she could not help with my final issue, which was to get the wifi setup cancelled on the Red House, since we aren’t renting it out anymore. That was a different department. So she transferred me and because the system only wanted to give me a call back on my landline from when I lived in Round Rock, I had to wait on hold.

Waiting, like all these Scissortails are.

That’s okay, I spent 15 minutes weeding nut grass in the pool flower bed. This made the next customer support lady laugh when I told her I had to crawl out of the flower bed to find my account number. But by gosh, she was able to cancel that account! All I have to do is return the equipment. Ugh.

Still, I did it! I finally got the right people to help me, didn’t get disconnected, and didn’t lose my cool. This is a true sign of modern competency.

Words, So Few of Them Helpful

What is a word you feel that too many people use?

What, like “very unique” or something? I find this question difficult, because it didn’t ask for a word that’s used too often, but rather for a word too many people use. In this case, I’m going to suggest “woke” as a word the wrong people are using for inappropriate reasons. People try to use this positive word as an insult and it doesn’t come across well outside their in-group.

Hi. I’m woke AF. Hmm, maybe too many people use “AF” after everything.

That’s not unique, of course. Humans have been changing words with positive connotations to negative ones for centuries. There are many articles on how neutral words have become negative words pertaining to women (like spinster, once a person who spun). As well, people have been misappropriating words from one group and using it in odd new ways for a long time, like white folks trying to be gangsta.

I do believe I’m not gangsta. This is fine. Other people can be if it’s fun for them.

If there’s one thing my misspent youth as a linguist taught me, though, is that languages constantly change, and that words mean what the speaker thinks they mean and the listener interprets them as. So who am I to say something is used “wrong?”

Each of us birds means “chirp” different.

I think I’m allowed to be triggered by some words being used in new ways. I don’t like “Nazi” being applied haphazardly. No, I’m not a grammar Nazi and never was a breastfeeding one either. That offends me. I was hoping our society was beyond that kind of thinking, though apparently it isn’t. Sigh.

I’ve got my raptor friends looking out for totalitarian wannabes.

Warning: if you call me woke I’m going to take it as a compliment. I’d rather be open to new ideas, kind, loving, and peaceful than angry and fearful of anyone different from myself.

On the home front the horses finally got to see the dentist today, after a series of mishaps on previously scheduled dates. I’m very pleased that the delay caused no issues and that everyone is doing well for their age and physiology.

Getting their teeth floated, then sleeping off the drugs.

Everyone was very well behaved, too. The best part was seeing the surprise on the dentist’s face when she saw Mabel. At first she thought I had a different horse! She kept exclaiming that Mabel now has a butt! That you can’t see her spine anymore! Her eyes are big and kind! Yep, she’s improved a lot. It feels so good to realize I’ve helped her become a beautiful, happy animal.

So, everything is all right here at the ranch.

Oh, the Conspiracies

Eh. I just can’t do today. I spent some time today watching the Olympics that are in Paris. That’s in France, a country in Europe. Many Americans, me included, have ancestors from there. France has a long history, including a revolution where a red, white and blue flag got waved around.

This is French. It’s what they fought for, liberty, eat, and brotherhood. From Pexel.

You knew this, right? The French are famous for wine, cheese, fashion, and long loaves of bread. They are not famous for fried potatoes.

I was baffled to wake up this morning to find people I know very upset with the Opening Ceremonies, admittedly a confusing extravaganza of Frenchness, and saying it was a Satanic ritual sent out to corrupt them. Do people think their little American demographic is so important that another country would forfeit their chance to highlight their culture in favor of upsetting people on the other side of the world?

Are they on shrooms? (The hallucinatory kind, not ones that look like nipples.

Yow. Now I know some folks don’t think it worth their time to learn about places outside of where they live. They have other stuff to think about. I get it. My head is full of bird calls, so it’s running out of space, too.

My head is also full of yarn. I’ve been crocheting something.

But gee whiz, the world isn’t out to get you, your interpretation of a deity, or your beloved future leader, who today promised you’ll only have to vote once more, so that duty can be crossed off the list.

Surprise: All those other nations out there all think THEY are the most important one, and only care about you if you try to pick a fight. So France wrote an Olympic Opening Ceremony that they felt represented themselves, their history, and their culture. It might confuse non-French people, but rather than assume the worst and invent conspiracy theories. another option would be to try to learn something about France.

That French bread is a baguette. That’s French for long loaf of bread. from Pexel.

You might still think the French are weird, but that’s okay; they also think we’re weird.

I doubt anyone who reads this needs education about France or believes Satanic forces control the Olympic organizers. And, since I’m me, I must point out that we’re all entitled to our beliefs, rational or not. So you be you. I get to be me.

Organized Religion, Unpopular Beliefs, and Such

Do you practice religion?

Have we met? If we have, you probably know I’m not a fan of organized religion. It seems like whenever some spiritual leader comes along, followers start twisting their teachings around to justify their agendas. I’ll stop there and let the reader come up with their own examples. It’s not hard to do.

No illustrations go with this blog so enjoy some bugs.

I’ve tried, of course. I always liked church as a kid because there was singing. In harmony. I liked that. The inconsistency of the teachings? Not so much.

I have tried a couple of other paths, but each started trying to say “my doctrine is better than yours” (even Wicca/neopaganism) and I got disinterested in any organized activity. Even Buddhists can start telling you how you should and shouldn’t practice. Fine for those people. Not for me. And the songs for both groups aren’t much fun.

I did stick with UnitarIan Universalism for a long time. The music was excellent and I got to be in a folk group, a choir, and a rock band. But power struggles, infighting, and most of all, the oppressive political correctness mandates got to be too much for me. I got to where I was afraid to speak, because someone would give me a lecture on how I triggered them, used last week’s correct labels, or missed a pronoun. (Note that I do my best to keep up and love everyone in all the trigger-prone communities). I’m just old and slow even as I try to learn (this statement will lead to a lecture on how I COULD do better if I tried, so I’m a sucky ally).

Anyway, my first point is that no matter who you think is the Best Spiritual Leader, I probably respect them and their teachings. My own path draws a lot from the Buddha, Jesus (his actual sayings), and Starhawk. But it’s mine, and I don’t expect you to follow it. I still respect other wise teachings as well. I will say I’m not fond of Mao or Lenin. I’m allowed. Right now at least.

Enjoy my smaller, but repaired, chicken pen.

And here’s my second point. People say things, sometimes in public, that reflect their spiritual path, philosophy, or culture. Sometimes we will agree with them; sometimes we will disagree. But it’s very important to let people say what they have to say. Heck, it tells you whose businesses to support, what sports teams to follow, or who to vote for.

Do not enjoy this large Queen fire ant that flies. Check those mandibles out.

Lately there’s been a lot of commentary about people who express opinions in public that don’t match those of their audiences. Examples include the football player who waxed on about women and motherhood, and Richard Dreyfus, who seems to have said sexist and racist things to an audience that didn’t come to hear that talk.

How should we handle this kind of thing? Well we sure don’t want to go censoring them. That can easily get turned around to where the other side feels censored because THEIR beliefs offend others(aside from the fact that I do censor myself often in my current political setting).

Enjoy my coffee mug from today. I’m running out of things to enjoy.

Nope. These people should say what they want to say, and then deal with the consequences. People will walk out of the venue, which is fine. Or they may no longer buy their products. But the speakers still get to talk.

Enjoy my creepily flesh-colored nails. Only flesh colored for white people, of course.

And those of us with different views also get to talk, even if we can’t be quite woke enough.

I worry that having uncommon beliefs, spiritual or otherwise, may be grounds for punishment in the future if we aren’t careful. Let’s treat those we disagree with the way we hope they’d treat us if we spoke out. We can respect their right to speak, but not be forced to listen.

Sigh. Here’s a dream. Wouldn’t it be cool if everyone felt comfortable flying flags with our favorite candidate’s name on it?

What I Learned About Freedom from Salman Rushdie (Book Report)

What does freedom mean to you?

I just finished reading Knife, by Salman Rushdie. In case you never heard of him, he’s a novelist who dared poke fun at a religious figurehead and had a fatwah put out in him. That means someone pretty humorless wanted him dead.

Knife, and some future reading material.

Regardless of the merits of his writing or his attempts at humor or anything like that, it had to be hard living with bodyguards 24/7 and always wondering when the assassin would show up. That’s the opposite of freedom to me, maybe worse than being imprisoned. In prison you know where all the murderers are.

Tiny Calf says she’s gonna hide in the grass.

He eventually got to where he didn’t worry about being attacked anymore, but then he was. The book is his way of getting his processing done. I guess since he gets paid to write, he decided to publish his memories and their effects on him rather than writing in a journal, or blogging like us other self-absorbed people.

By the end, though, I think Rushdie comes out free. He’s free to live the rest of his life without dwelling on what happened, his attacker’s motivation, or looking over his shoulder constantly. He’s faced death and knows what it’s like.

It’s probably not true, but birds always seem free.

That’s freedom: being able to live without worrying that someone or some institution is out to kill you, confine you, or strip you of your rights. In this case, I’m not free anymore. I’m no longer confident that women can be free in this country.

I digress as usual. As for the book, it was okay. There were some genuinely funny parts, and I give Rushdie credit for doing his best to be introspective, but he comes across (to me) as someone who has a great need to prove how smart he is. He extensively quotes from world literature when I swear he could just say what he meant rather than forcing the reader to remember every book they ever read (IF they happened to be literature majors) and draw the proper inferences from it.

I felt like there was going to be an essay test at the end.

He also quotes himself, or his novels, repeatedly. Is he trying to sell books? I didn’t end up dying to read any of them, which is good, since I have some good ones queued up already, thanks in part to kind people who keep handing me books.

I don’t use enough polysyllabic words or quote enough European fiction to even want to quote myself.

Now, I do feel for the guy. He went through a lot, lost vision in one eye, and has a permanent droopy mouth. He does seem pretty chipper for someone less than two years after nearly dying. He sure made Jon Stewart laugh when he interviewed him.

So, freedom is not a buzzword for me. It’s the ability to live in your society with a reasonable about of agency and feeling safe among your community members.

I always disagreed that butterflies were free. They are little mating and egg-laying instinct-driven beings. Pretty, though.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be less dour. But here’s an example of why I’m that way: I didn’t share the link to yesterday’s blog about what public figure I dislike most on Facebook out of concern that it might put a target on my back. So, freedom? Not so much.

Oh Public Figures

What public figure do you disagree with the most?

You may be surprised, but my answer to this is the Governor of Texas. While he isn’t a pathological liar like my second choice, he seems to be on a deliberate course to disenfranchise every resident of this state who isn’t a wealthy white man. Shudder.

Like this lovely mana cow, he’s full of cow poop.

Good night.

Cognitive Dissonance

What’s something most people don’t understand?

That’s what most people seem to be unable to grasp. There are just too many people out there who don’t see any problem with holding beliefs or opinions that cancel each other out.

So you’re pro life. Good for you. But once a baby is born you’re against helping it. And if it wanders onto your property as an adult, you’d shoot it. And your guns are more important than innocent children in a school or people trying to attend a concert. You’re pro life and pro murder. How can you believe both?

I’ll stop before I offend the other 50% of readers.

Sorry folks, today has taken a turn for the worse and I’m in a less centered space than I’d like to be. The family health issues just keep on coming and there’s nothing we can do but observe and stay centered. Well, we can support each other, which IS something.

Life is challenging. We know that. But it’s also good. Is that cognitive dissonance?

I’m so glad I have lush pastures to wander in (with proper footwear to avoid snakes) and sweet horses to love on and breathe the scent of their grassy (mud encrusted) coats.

The equine buddies are my calmness center right now. Even Apache calmly let him remove his boots and asked for head rubs, and Mabel keeps asking for attention. It surprised me, too, how grooming Dusty and seeing him look so healthy made me happier.

Thanks, horses.

Sometimes You Just Need a Listener

Today I needed to get some things off my chest so I could move on past them and get back to my “normal” fairly balanced frame of mind. I’m very lucky that I was able to have a couple of Zoom chats and a couple of Messenger chats that set me back on an even keel.

I just needed to talk things through in a safe, nonjudgmental space. We all need friends to listen to us when we need to vent, even when we’re a little off base or even a little wrong. The listeners let you hear yourself, ask helpful questions for you to ponder, and allow you to gain a better perspective on whatever is bugging you.

By this evening, after a nice ride on a mostly calm horse (mentally thanking my supportive equestrian friends), cooking a tasty dinner for the menfolk, and zoning out knitting, I feel refreshed and able to cope with whatever challenges come my way. Woo hoo!

Most of them probably won’t see this, but I’d like to thank these friends for lifting me up between the weekend and today:

Alice
Barbara
Nancy S
Barbara
Connie
Kathie
Lynn
Phyllis
Anita
Martha
Jay
Pamela
Avery, Sara, and Tracee (for horse support)

I even got to be a bit of a listener for Pamela and Martha, too. One of the best things about good friends is that they can take turns being the helper and the helped. My high school friend group also does that for each other. It’s a good feeling all around.

When Goldie was sad, Lee cheered her up.

If someone has helped you get through a rough spot, be sure to thank them, too!

And if you get vexed, just look at some vetch and breathe. I did.

I’m Not Bored Easily, But

What bores you?

It’s hard to answer this question, because I’ve cleverly chosen my hobbies and interests to ensure that I’ve always got something interesting to do. I can knit, write, identify wildlife, or imagine what’s going on with people in cities, towns and rural areas I go through. At a basic level, I’m easily amused.

Some things to tend to bore me, so I escape them. They include:

Meetings held just to have a meeting.
More than 15 minutes of any TV news network where they repeat the same headlines with tiny variations.
Being talked down to, in person, in articles, or in books. My mind travels elsewhere.
Driving through metropolitan areas with the same chain stores repeating over and over. I counted four Rooms to Go stores driving from Denton to Hillsboro on I35 last week. Zzz.
Housing developments where all houses look alike. Yes, I lived in one once.
Being repeatedly subjected to quotes from the Bible to inaccurately argue a point. I’m no longer invested in debating that.
All white kitchens in houses with only black, white or gray furnishings.

Hey, I came up with more things than I thought I would. The good news is that all the things that bore me can be easily avoided or mitigated. I can either begin taking pictures of weeds or start knitting.

Important weed note: avoid picking up wildflowers that are blooming to get a better look without checking whether they might be nettles. Ow.

What bores you?

Mrs Cardinal says she is NOT boring. She’s a good singer.

(What didn’t bore me today was a nice, normal ride on Apache. We did all our homework and had a good time. )

Gimme a Break

Do you need a break? From what?

For one thing, I need a break from blogging, so this will be brief. I need a break from one other thing, and it’s the endless rehashing of unimportant “news” items.

I’d love to read or hear a daily summation of facts about local, state, national, and international news. Separately, I’d enjoy choosing some analysis by people I trust. Once. Not the same news with one extra nugget each time à la CNN.

And if I want to read about which singer is dating which athlete or which member of the British royal family had surgery, I could go read People. Separately.

Daily Bird

Today I saw one of my favorite raptors doing its job. The Northern Harrier (Circus hudsonius) is a resident during its nonbreeding months. I love watching them flying low over the fallow cropland and pastures, looking for field mice. I’ve seen them catch their prey more than once.

I was feeling jealous of my friend Pamela, who lives not too far from here, because she’d been seeing one and I hadn’t. But now I’m happy to see this striking bird with the interesting habits over here in Walkers Creek!