Probably Nothing, In A Normal Mansion

The bathroom door has been behaving itself since Wednesday morning's creepiness. In retrospect and futurospect, there might have been other incidents of attention-seeking by our resident non-entity.

Tuesday evening, I went upstairs to make supper at the regular time, between 6:00 and 6:30. I keep an eye on the time at the bottom of New Delly's monitor, and by the clock on the wall. Here it is right now, at 1:00 a.m., in my lighted basement lair. You don't think I want it dark with recent shenanigans, do you?

It's a school-style clock, although Farmer H got it at his old workplace, when they got new furniture, at the same time he got me a giant battleship of a metal desk. It runs on a AA battery in the back. Heh, heh! That's probably some of the original dust there on top!

I don't remember supper that evening. It might have been a Ponytail Guy's Meat night, with chicken nuggets, some packaged noodles that The Pony made, and a salad. I sat down a few minutes after washing up the noodle pan, to talk to The Pony and Farmer H. The Pony was in a hurry to get to his nightly triangle tub soak, and didn't hang around. 

After I re-heated my nuggets, and put Ken's Steakhouse Chunky Blue Cheese Dressing on my romaine, tomatoes, and provel shredded cheese salad, I headed down to my lair. I was happily feasting, listening to a conspiracy podcast, when I glanced at the time. Huh! How did it get to be 8:45! I swear, it was just  about 7:30 last time I looked!

Aha! I peered up at the wall clock, which said 7:40. I KNEW IT! Wait a minute. My computer clock wouldn't be wrong. I double-checked with my phone. Yes. It was, indeed, 8:45. 

HOW had my clock lost exactly 55 minutes while I was upstairs? I had reset that clock, due to the end of Daylight Savings Time, on Monday night. So I was a day late. Sue me.

This was quite puzzling. I KNEW I had set that clock back an hour. My back was twinging that night, and I have to lean over and reach up to grasp that clock, then balance myself, leaning, to get the notch on the back to align with the nail in the wall. Besides, it had been the right time WHEN I WENT UPSTAIRS FOR SUPPER!

I know I sat around chatting with Farmer H until 7:30 or 7:45. I didn't notice what time I got to my lair. I think my podcast was late coming online. I'd been looking for it between 8:00 and 8:30. I guess I was in a feeding frenzy coma when I glanced at the wall clock and assumed it was 7:30. Which that clock would have indeed shown me, what with being 55 minutes behind!

I stood up and re-set it again. It has worked fine since then, not losing a single minute. I even asked The Pony if he'd re-set my office clock for me. You know, maybe while I was distracted washing the noodle pan, with my back to the living room where he eats. Maybe he'd run downstairs for something, and thought he'd help me out. Yes. I KNOW THAT'S FAR-FETCHED! The HELPING part! Then he reminded me that no, he had eaten his supper, and gone to the big tub. Farmer H also denied HELPING me. Very strange.

WEDNESDAY NIGHT, the night after the bathroom-door-flapping incident that morning, I heard something. It wasn't so much Wednesday night, as 2:10 a.m. Thursday morning. I know that was the right time, because I looked at New Delly's monitor. 

I was tap-tapping away when I heard a noise outside my chamber door, across the basement, up 13 steps, on the TILE IN FRONT OF THE FRONT DOOR.

You know how you get used to your Mansion. You can tell by the sound where something is noisening. There are beige ceramic tiles at the front door and landing at the top of the basement steps. It was the sound of one item falling. Not bouncing, not rolling, not breaking. Just the sound of a hard-plastic substance hitting the tile. Not wood, not metal, not insulated plastic like a bubba cup. It was not the metal front door opening or closing. Not a dog flopping on the front porch, wagging a tail against the door, or moving a metal chair. I know my Mansion's sounds.

When I went upstairs in the wee hours of the morning, I saw NOTHING out of place. The three embroideried thingies in plastic circles were all hanging. They've been known to fall off in a hard door slam (don't ask!), or if wind whips in with the door open. The two magnetic thingies, Genius's Santa Claus, and The Pony's skeleton, were still in the same place on the door.

 

 

I don't know what's going on here. Am I supposed to be getting a message? Am I going nuts? (That's RHETORICAL, people!) Are Farmer H and The Pony gaslighting me?

Technical Advice From Mrs. HM

It's common knowledge that technology is not my friend. Genius coined that phrase many years ago. I think he was about 5 years old at the time, having set up his desktop computer with two monitors and six speakers, while contemplating switching to a Linux operating system. I had probably asked him how to print something.

 

When Genius left home for college, he made sure my desktop had a gizmo that let him control it remotely. I had to utilize it several times. As you might presume, Genius was not always happy to help me. I would try to fix my own problems. I did this by using System Restore, reverting back to a date I knew my computer was working normally. It usually worked. 

Of course Genius pooh-poohed my quick fix. 

 

"Mom. What was wrong could not have been fixed by that! It just fixed itself when you restarted, probably. I don't know why you use System Restore. It doesn't do anything."

Au contraire. I learned about System Restore from Genius himself. I think he was in 3rd grade back then, fed up with the printer not working in his Gifted Program classroom. 

 

"Mom. It has been broken for two months. The teacher said she put in a work order, but nobody has fixed it. I asked her if I could try, and she said 'Go for it.' I did a System Restore, and then the printer worked again."

I asked him to show me that. His mistake! He created a monster. A computer-fixing monster! Sort of.

Anyhoo... I might have mentioned how my HP LaserJet stopped printing about a month ago. There's no reason. It's hooked up to New Delly with a wire. It decided that every time I tried to print, there was a job in the queue. Even when I canceled all jobs. Anyhoo... I got around it by printing in the workshop, on the color printer. Which I can't flip over the page and print both sides, because I don't know how to feed the paper, because I can never tell which drawer it comes from. No way am I going to run back and forth to hit PRINT, then go see how the job came out, and try again.

Anyhoo... Genius's letters have been on two pages. Which cost extra postage, due to the scratchers tucked into the envelope. So after three weeks of this print-around, I resolved to get my LaserJet working, or cut down to a one-page letter. It's not like I hadn't dropped a hint to Genius all those weeks, about my LaserJet not working. Such as telling him, "My LaserJet isn't working, it says I have something in the queue."

Anyhoo... at the end of this week's letter, I typed:

"Now I'm about to see if I can impart some juju into my LaserJet and make it print. Not holding my breath. I think I'll try the old 'unplug it and plug it back in' trick. Next week, I'll attempt my old standby, SYSTEM RESTORE!"

I figured Genius would get a kick out of that, as my mom used to say. Even Steven must have been on my shoulder that night, because my LaserJet came to life. So I had to handwrite a note at the bottom.

"OH MY FREAKIN' GOSH! The unplug/plug-in method worked!

System Restore, you ride in the back seat now!"

I'm pretty sure Genius will be relieved to hear that.

Another Little Bit Of Creepiness

Surely there's a logical explanation, one that complies with the laws of physics. If you can prove it for me, I'll stop calling you Shirley!

Wednesday morning, I awoke without my wake-up notice from The Pony. It was a couple minutes before 11:00. I heard his bedroom door, then his bathroom door, then the hum of the shower. I dragged myself out of bed and hobbled to my own bathroom. Farmer H was out and about. 

 

I gave my bathroom door a shove behind me, but it didn't latch. I do this most mornings. Maybe I'm weak. The door is closed enough, with just a tiny crack that faces the sink area, and does not allow for peeping towards the tub/toilet/shower. Surely any civilized person approaching would honor the mostly-closed door, right?

I sat on the throne, contemplating my day (elixir, scratchers, mail a bill, expired pinwheel lunch, innernetting, supper of chicken nuggets/noodles/salad, watching online election reports). I noted the time was 11:10, if the clock was accurate from Farmer H's reset ridding us of Daylight Savings Time. I pondered how long The Pony might shower, as it affects the time I get my own shower, wanting maximum hottage of the water.

CLICK-CLICK!!!

What in the Not-Heaven? The bathroom door was moving! As if being pulled closed, let go, and pulled closed again. But not latching. Just hitting the metal tongue thingy on the metal latch plate thingy. Twice. Then the door was in the same position I had left it.

Huh. That was very odd. The door has never acted like that before. I could still hear the hum of water in The Pony's shower. My throne sits right by a vent, and by my own shower, so I can hear through the ductwork and pipes. I knew The Pony was not outside my bathroom door, yanking it closed. 

 

Farmer H was not around. I'd not heard the dogs, the Gator, or the squeak and slam of the kitchen door. Nor the stumping of footless ankles on carpet. 

 

The furnace was not running. Nothing coming out of the vent. I had consciously noted that, because I felt chilly after leaving my warm bed, and was hoping the heat would kick on.

I'm not sure if something was trying to GET IN, or trying to GET OUT...

Even Steven Said There'd Be Days Like This

I left home Tuesday in a cheerful mood, ready to grab the world by the tail. The temperature was 75 degrees, bright and sunny, the smell of dead leaves in the air, and hickory nuts thunking down on T-Hoe's roof as I parked to get the mail.

A dump truck sat by the creek, without a driver. Another dump truck was parked back across the low water bridge. A bright orange sign warning me, if I went up the hill, that there was ROAD WORK and OIL. I could see the workers at the crest of the hill, spreading blacktop, and stinking up the fresh air.

You know what? That didn't even bother me. I got the mail, and hopped back in T-Hoe, narrowly avoiding being concussioned by the hickory nut bombs. Not to worry. I had another route to town. I turned left, and went on my way. At the next stop sign, I tore open what looked like a bill from Farmer H's recent medical tests. Huh. $5,700-some-odd dollars! Whew! But his portion is only $70. So that's liveable.

On I went, winding my way out to the lettered county highway. Huh. The road was strewn with something. What was that? Sticks? Limbs? On I went. Around the last curve. There was the County side-mower, blocking my way on a little hill. He pulled over. I edged around him, hoping nothing was coming at me. MADE IT!

Okay. Now time to get down to business. Get to town for my magical elixir, some scratchers, and pick up lunch for The Pony and myself. 

My magical elixir was tasty from the sip I took as a sample. But they didn't have the new crossword scratcher that The Pony had given me money to buy him. Oh, well. On to Casey's to see if they had it.

Whoops! In the five minutes I spent in the Gas Station Chicken Store, the weekly semi truck that delivers Casey's merchandise had arrived, and parked along the front of their store. Taking up all the parking spaces. Huh. Guess Casey's was off the table for tickets.

I was still optimistic, on my way to the dead-mouse-smelling post office to drop a bill and a letter for Farmer H (he's welcome for the STAMP I fought so hard to get) in the outside mailbox. I left my window down, inhaling that autumn aroma, hearing the crinkled brown leaves skitter across the pavement.

Okay. Let's try the liquor store for those new crossword tickets. I parked and went inside. While waiting in line, it was clear that the new tickets were not in the case. So I left. Wasted trip. But I was still upbeat. I'd try Country Mart's machines.

Well. All my parking spots were taken. So I had a longer walk. No new crossword tickets. So I got The Pony a Bingo and a two-dollar ticket. Got myself two fives. Not a big deal. Off to Hardee's for the chicken tenders and fries The Pony asked for, and a taco salad for myself.

Gosh. Four cars ahead of me. Oh. I see the problem. Hardee's was extra busy, because Dairy Queen was CLOSED! So their business came across the road.

Of course I had to pull forward and wait for the chicken to cook. So I took a picture of the DQ parking lot pavers. So you can be entertained, as I was. Except you can't smell the stench of fresh blacktop.

There's my pharmacy drive-thru window in the background. Country Mart is down at the end of the road, to the right, but you can't see it.

These guys were remarkably efficient. It was like a choreographed ballet. I wish I'd had dinner with my show! Ten minutes later, the food was brought out to T-Hoe. Of course they'd stacked The Pony's foam container of chicken, and bag of fries, on top of my taco salad, thus covering its breathing holes, and further smothering it in a plastic bag.

Oh my gosh! It was the smallest taco salad I've seen yet. Even The Pony commiserated with me, and offered some of his chicken tenders. Nah. I added some extra shredded cheddar, and a tiny can of 2-weeks-expired sliced black olives, and took a bowl of salsa to add as I ate it. And scratched my LOSERS, after The Pony had already scratched his.

Such a beautiful day. Such a plethora of obstacles. It can only improve tomorrow...

Little Genius, Little Debbie

Back when Little Genius was 5 or 6 years old, he had a favorite treat. I think my mom bought them for him first. When she used to pick him up after school sometimes, she'd serve up his treat, cut into four sections like a little pie. AND on special occasions, she'd put a little twisty birthday candle on top.

That's it! The Little Debbie Jelly Creme Pie! It's actually two layers of cake, with a dab of strawberry jelly filling, dipped in chocolate. Genius called them Jelly Cakes.

The Mansion was no stranger to Little Debbie. We always had the Cosmic Brownies, Swiss Rolls, Fudge Rounds, Nutty Bars, and Oatmeal Cakes. And sometime the Star Crunch. Not all at the same time, of course. We usually had two varieties at a time, each boy getting to choose one. 

It must have been around the time Genius was in middle school or high school that we quit seeing the Jelly Cakes. Then they'd only be around for a limited time. Maybe Christmas, or Valentine's Day. Whenever Mom or I would see them, we'd tip each other off to stock up.

Imagine my surprise when I rounded the back aisle at Save A Lot on Sunday, and saw the Jelly Cakes on the end cap Little Debbie display! I picked up two boxes. For old times sake. I'm sure I will eat some, and The Pony will help, and Farmer H will sneak several.

I sent the picture to Genius on Monday.

"They're BAAA AAACK! I haven't seen them in years!"

"Oh my gosh! I had a dream about these the other day!"

Yes. I bet he did. We're still on the same wavelength, sharing more than one strand in the rich tapestry of our lives.

Give Me Some Credit, Will You

Thursday's surprise casino trip came about because we were headed to the Best Buy store in Casino Town, to procure the NEW LAPTOP that The Pony has been saving his previous casino winnings for. 

 

He had found a great deal online Wednesday night. Lucky for him, the store in Casino Town had one in stock, since we are afraid of having it shipped, what with the shady package thieves who pop up when you least expect them, here in our isolated enclave. UNlucky for The Pony, as we readied ourselves for the trip at 7:00 Monday morning (I had an early nurse practitioner appointment!), he discovered the deal was no longer good!

That was heartbreaking! The Pony would have saved $400 on that laptop! He had already run it by Genius, our non-resident computer expert, who said it was a great deal on a good brand, with all the special stuff The Pony desires for gaming. What a panic! The Pony got to searching, and found another model of the same brand, on special right then, that would save him $350. We were virtually dancing with glee at his good fortune. 

 

At 7:25, The Pony had everything ready to go to submit the order. All he had left was to enter our credit card. That's the easiest way. He had his wad of cash laid out on the coffee table, for me put in the safe, to hold until the next billing cycle, to use for payment.

DECLINED!

What in the NOT-HEAVEN? Our bill is paid off each month. There is a ZERO balance on it. The previous month's payment had been received, and the new bill had not yet arrived.

WAH WAH WAAAAA.... That's the sad sound effect like when a Let's Make a Deal contestant would choose the curtain with a year's supply of macaroni and cheese, rather than the new kitchen appliance showcase.

Since we were leaving at 7:30 to make my appointment on time, there was nothing we could do. Farmer H said that Best Buy should honor that price in the store, once The Pony explained that he'd tried to order online, for in-store pickup, and couldn't get it to go through. The Pony was a bit dubious. But Farmer H insisted, 

"They WILL honor that deal!"

Farmer H can be very persuasive in person, and in fact DID force the issue and get the laptop for the sale price. He sang the praises of the Best Buy worker, and also that of the Indian rep from our credit card company, whom he had to talk to when our card was again declined. He was NOT happy with the automated options and wait time to talk to a real person on the credit card end.

Seriously. I don't know what's the deal with our credit card. It's from a MAJOR bank. We've had it for 31 years! Always paid off the full amount each month. Once we even charged a TRUCK on it (which took TWO months for payoff; I stand corrected). This is the credit card that wouldn't let me buy The Pony's new phone out in Norman, Oklahoma, when we tried online to have it shipped to a SPRINT store. 

It's inconvenient. I know that a pricey new laptop might send up a red flag, except WE ARE ENTERING THE CHRISTMAS SHOPPING SEASON. And I've ordered computers and laptops on that credit card before. I told Farmer H that maybe I should have put in a notice that we'd be making a major purchase. Like when I'd put in that we'd be traveling on certain dates.

I didn't mind when the credit card people called me many years ago, to say that my card was being used in a town 30 miles away, minutes after I'd used it here in Hillmomba. I explained that Farmer H was up there using our card for building materials, while I was using it at The Devil's Playground. No harm, no foul. Neither of our purchases were declined. It was just their fraud division checking on it. I was pleased that they did so.

However... I don't like my purchases being declined for NO GOOD REASON. It's a pain in the rumpus, and could have cost The Pony a sweet deal on a laptop, had we not driven 90 miles one-way to purchase in person.

Farmer H never really gave me a good answer on WHY the card was declined. I'm guessing he didn't bother to ask, once he explained the earlier order attempt and decline, and gave the wrong mother's maiden name (for mine instead of HIS), and finally obtained authorization to purchase the laptop. I won't even bring it up as one of his MOST RECENT THINGS YOU'VE DONE WRONG topics, since he took care of it, and I did not have to deal with it.

What's the advantage of having excellent credit for 31 years, if you can't use it once in a blue moon when you need it?

FH, Phone Broke

Not so much BROKE, as malfunctioning. Nothing cracked, dented, shattered, or scratched. You may recall that Farmer H has a NEW phone. He thinks he's had it less than 30 days. He thinks that, because he hopes it can be fixed or replaced for free. I've grown testy (heh, heh, I said TESTY) with Farmer H's phone antics. You'd think a grown man could take care of a phone long enough to get our money's worth out of it. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

 

Thursday, our voting day, I climbed into A-Cad when Farmer H and The Pony picked me up after my nurse practitioner appointment. Neither was very talky. Almost as if they were in cahoots in a conspiracy they were keeping from me. The Pony had his head down, and Farmer H wasn't distracted by his precious phone while driving us to the county voting center over by the morgue.

 

With an ominous statement from the back seat, I realized that The Pony was fiddling with Farmer H's cell phone! Of course Farmer H had already made it malfunction. He's barely had it 30 days, we think. Somehow, his notification sounds didn't work anymore.

 

The Pony lamented that he'd tried everything. I guess he had a pleasant hour in the car with Farmer H, while I was cooling my heels in the VIRUSy hospital clinic! He'd searched the innernets for a solution, tried several, and couldn't fix the notifications.

 

"It says that the problem is most likely a new app. That if the sounds work in SAFE MODE, that must be it. They do. But then they won't work when I take it out of safe mode."

 

"Well, it's been doing that for a few days now. I wondered why nobody was texting me. Then my buddies said they did, and I found them, but I never heard them. At least the phone rings if somebody calls me. Did you try to text me?"

 

"Yes. And...nothing."

 

"They've been taking a while to come in, too."

 

"What apps have you gotten recently?"

 

"None. I don't do apps."

 

"Let me look and see the most recent ones."

 

"Alls I know is that I had to agree to Google Chrome when I did my doctor appointment call on Monday."

 

"That's not an app, Dad. Chrome has always been there."

 

"Well, it made me agree to something for it to install."

 

"Not it. What apps do you use?"

 

"I tried to put you guys in a group, so you'd be at the top of my contacts. Oh, I did notice that the Casey's app updated itself. I never did nothin' to it. But it's different."

 

"That group thing wouldn't do it. Okay. I see the Casey's app. It's the most recent one. It updated yesterday. Maybe I can uninstall it, and install it again."

 

"I've got to have my Casey's app!"

 

"I don't know what else to do. You can't get a sound notification. I can't even PLAY the choices of sounds, unless I start your phone in safe mode. And you don't want to use it all the time in safe mode. Here, Mom. Put it up there where Dad can reach it if he needs it."

 

"Do you want to stop by the SPRINT store before we go to the casino? We're right here in town."

 

"NO! Them idiots in there don't know nothin'! They never help me. I might try the store where I bought it, on Tuesday, when I take [his cancer girlfriend] to her appointment."

 

"Are you sure it isn't Google Chrome?"

 

"No, Mom. Chrome is part of the phone. It has always been on it, even if Dad didn't use it."

 

"Well, you said it hasn't worked for a few days. So if the Casey's app only updated yesterday, you had the problem before then. All I can think of is when you opened Google Chrome to take that doctor call." 

"I didn't even hear it ring. Good thing I was looking at it, waiting for the call. It gave me directions. I punched in exactly what it told me to do. It was easier than I thought it would be."

"Maybe it overrode something so you didn't get interrupted during that call."

"Huh. There has to be something on there that's overriding the notification sounds. Hand me Dad's phone again. Do you mind if I close out your tabs, Dad?"

"I don't have no tabs open."

"Yes you do. There's that thing from the doctor call, and three tabs about guns you've looked up."

"Okay. I don't care. I can look them up again."

"HEY! Hear that? Now the notifications are working!"

"YOU'RE WELCOME! Because I kind of feel like I solved that problem, even though I have no idea how any of it works."

"Yeah. Well. I guess it was that doctor appointment tab that was keeping the sounds off. Everything looks normal now."

The Pony need to realize that most hoofbeats do not result in zebras, but rather in... um... a pony.