The Burrow

I should be writing about Kamala Harris.  100 years after white women were able to vote, a woman of color has just become the presumptive nominee in 2024.   But, like most sane humans, I'd be voting for Biden no matter which of the women (or men, before that became untenable) he chose from his list.  As several talking heads have noted, the deep pool of qualified women of all shapes and sizes and colors speaks very well of the Democrats in general.  Now, I can revel in imagining Sen. Harris skewering VP Pence in whatever debate format he consents to be bbq'ed upon, while contemplating a Biden/Harris ticket, if I felt like thinking about anything serious at all.. But my aches are still aching and I'm leaning on the herbal heating pillow (the smell of which nauseates TBG so I have to hide away as I soothe) and I'm thinking about Little Cuter's friend and her brand new baby. We started out living within biking distance; carpooling to soccer practise was a no braine...

I tried to get through to a human.  I really did.  I dialed 1-800-COMCAST four times. The first time, they couldn't find me then they thought I was "a valued customer."  Amazing what providing a zip code will get you. The second time, I connected with an actual human being.  She was lovely.  She wondered if I knew where the reset button was on the black Xfinity box.  Yes, I did.  I also knew how to reset it, which I did. Unfortunately, resetting the wifi also reset the telephone.  My helpful human was gone, along with my dial tone. I dialed again, went through the same "who are you... enter zip code.... valued customer" routine, listened to the Muzak equivalent of falling raindrops, and was then informed by an automated voicebox that they were unable to help me at this time.  There were two suggestions, and I began screaming in the middle of the first one; I couldn't get faster service by logging onto the internet because I couldn't l...

The Best Laid Plans.... I have photos. I have stories. I have insights and observations and I want to share them all with you. Unfortunately.... It started when we got home from Ft. Lauderdale last night. The clock on the mantle read nearly 9pm, but we were still operating on Eastern Daylight Time; midnight was encroaching and we were exhausted. Still, knowing that the best way to fight jet lag is to get on the new schedule as soon as possible, we unpacked, and watered flowers, and brought in the huge box sitting on the front doormat Remember Pandora? I wish I had last night. I opened the damn thing and found Comcast's new box and cables and wires and easy instructions all of which are designed to speed up my internet access. I think. All I really know is that Comcast is exerting all kinds of pressure to get me to install the new system. There was a message on the answering machine, reminding me to order my equipment. That should have been another clue. The d...

There's no Monday Night Football tonight.  Are all the men watching Bachelor Pad? ***** Karina Bland writes a wonderful column for the Arizona Republic.  This past Sunday she wrote about Christina's mom.  If you have a box of tissues nearby, click here . ***** Did you know that installing a dance floor over an in-ground swimming pool involves scaffolding?  Neither did I, until this morning. ***** Planning my garden for perfection-a-year-from-now involves trees and pruning today to see what it will look like a month from now and plotting the angle of the sun.  It is so much fun; I almost always have a smile on my face.  I just wish Little Cuter and MOTG   were here too.  As LC's email demanded this afternoon: Be Closer! ***** We got a lesson in not putting all our eggs in one basket this morning when Comcast went out.   The land line  and the internet and the television - gone.  Comcast comped us two days of service and resto...

Standing in the 20-or less aisle today in WallyWorld, I unloaded my Bayer and chocolate bars onto the small check-out counter.  These were in the cart Our not-so-guilty pleasures were on sale in this awkward size.  Ever one for saving a dollar, I heaved them into the basket fairly easily.  Gravity was a big help.  When it came to having their bar codes scanned, I realized that the creator of this packaging had never actually paid for one in a grocery store.   How, you wonder, did I come to this conclusion?  Read on, grasshopper. There are no clearly marked numerical prices on anything except books and greeting cards anymore.  Everything has a bar code and the checker must scan it.  I include this information for those people who, like the apocryphal story told about our first Bush president (I know, I wanted it to be true, too) have no idea what a bar code looks like.  This obviously includes the designer of this packaging, who was...

I haven't indulged in a good old fashioned rant here in The Burrow for quite some time. Are you ready???????? Once again, Comcast pixilated and froze and fast-forwarded itself through the last 2 minutes of a show. We were just sitting there on Douglas, minding our own business, not tou ching the remote, not un-screwing the cables from the back of the box , just watching the movie when suddenly we had a Mondrian on our wall instead of a flat screen tv. Now, G'ma and I really enjoyed seeing Broadway Boogie Woogie at MOMA back in 2008, but Comcast's lame attempt at replicating it was really lacking.... in style, grace, color clarity and most important of all it was mis-hung - that's supposed to be our TV !!!! Not blobs of color representing reality (sorry Piet) but a real black and white movie on our big, flat screen television set. Naughty words were spoken, I will admit. Groans and frustrated foot stomping behaviors were seen in the area. Angry looks were exchanged, wit...