A Work In Progress

I spent six hours yesterday on the telephone to India.   Nyel spent the same time period moving rock.  Neither of us finished our jobs and neither of us was jumping up and down for joy at the end of the day.  Quite the opposite.

My telephone marathon began with a simple online purchase of a Microsoft program that should, or so  some of my most trusted colleagues told me, make certain of my writing jobs much easier.  But, no sooner had the installation process begun than I got an error message.  After struggling to understand how to fix the problem, I pushed the “help” button.  The jury is out as to whether that was a big mistake or not.

Rock Shovelers

It seems that my Microsoft Word 2010 is not compatible with Microsoft Publisher 2013.  However, before that could be rectified, the very decisive sounding woman in India told me that I had only some stand-alone Microsoft Office programs and I need the entire “Suite” instead.  She continued working on the problem.  It was midnight in India.  At about five in the morning, her time, (four thirty the afternoon before, my time) she had to go off duty.  We begin again tomorrow at seven in the morning, my time.

Meanwhile, Nyel was moving a yard of river rock, size medium, from his pick-up truck to his new L-shaped flower bed.  Dave was here trimming the camellias (OMG!  They look so neat and tidy all of a sudden!) and so Nyel wisely commandeered him.  And, when I went out to get their picture a few minutes later, there was Noah Beck, hard at it too!

Noah is a Willapa Bay Artist in Residence — a singer songwriter who asked several weeks ago it he could do a recording in the church.  I guess the noise from the rock-moving was interfering with his project and he was trying to help the process along a bit.

Wheelbarrow Rocker

He’d had the same problem yesterday, apparently, when Bradley & Company were using a chainsaw on some of the fallen alder.  Poor Noah.  I guess I should have warned him that while Oysterville may look peaceful and quiet, it seldom is.  Not at this time of year.  I think he’s going to try again after dark.

When Nyel and I sat down for a bite to eat late in the evening, we compared notes and agreed that it wasn’t the easiest of days.  For Nyel, the trials were physical.  For me, mental.  Either way, it wasn’t a day I’d care to do over again.