I’m not much on conspiracy theories.  Nor am I overly concerned about “privacy issues” or “transparency” or “truth in advertising.”  I’m pretty much a child of the forties and fifties — just enough skepticism about the world to take seriously “buyer beware” and to avoid speaking with strangers and other good advice.

So, when Nyel and I were speaking with Marta and Charlie the other night on a conference call, I was amazed to have our conversation interrupted (while I was speaking) by a voice that said, “Your input is not valid.”  What the hell????  Nyel and I were both on our landline — I using the handset in my office and Nyel using the handset from the Mother Phone near his desk.  He heard the voice, as did I.  Marta and Charlie did not.

When we explained what he had heard Marta said,  “That happened to me once, too.  Remember?” None of us did;  Marta was the only one who heard it and, although she remarked about it, the episode hadn’t really registered.  Now it has.

So… who is monitoring our calls?  And what does “not valid” mean exactly?  I wish I could remember what the subject matter was.  It was one of those free-ranging conversations — progress on some work Charlie’s having done on his house; East Indian and African cookery that Marta’s friend Jim is into; our gradual re-entry into the social world now that we and many of our friends are totally vaccinated etc.

I asked Nyel just now if he remembered where we were in the conversation.  He said, “I hate to tell you… but I think that message was my fault.  I think I inadvertently pushed a button on the phone and that was the response.”

Oh boy howdy!  I hope so!

Daffodils!!

The daffy-down-dillies are out in all their glory — even on my dining room table.  There is nothing so fresh, so cheerful, and so just plain hopeful as a bunch of daffodils during these final dreary winter days.

I thought about that this morning when it was the “usual” time for coffee but way too early and dark.  Daylight Savings has arrived!  As I looked at my cheerful bouquet I was thankful that I had raided our daffodil patch and that they were there to greet me on this dark and  drippy day.

Camellias – The Last Bouquet of Winter

It promises to be a stellar week.  Beginning today with a the time change, marching through St. Patrick’s Day midweek and ending with the official beginning of Spring on Saturday, the days will no doubt speed by all too rapidly.  I hope to find time to savor every one of them.  I think it’s my favorite time of year!

Subaru Forester

It seemed like a good idea at the time.  We’d been putting off the Subaru airbag recall for more than a year and now that we are “fully vaccinated” why not get on the road, we thought.  And since we have to go all the way back to the dreaded Bud Cleary dealership, why not have a few other things taken care of at the same time, we thought.  Like replace the sideview mirror that I whacked on the garage doorframe, and have the car serviced, too, we thought.

Nyel called.  He made the appointment and explained what we wanted done.  Yesterday was the day.  “Be there at 11,” they said.  “We’ll have you out of here by three.”  The morning dawned sunny with bright blue skies.  We packed a lunch, left at 8:30, looking forward to our first road trip beyond Astoria in well over a year.

As we headed out on highway 30, I set the cruise control for 55 and we began to enjoy the ride — for about 5 minutes.  The traffic was fairly heavy and almost instantly the cars and trucks began passing us.  “Why?” we wondered.  “Where are the cops?” we wondered.  “Have speed limits finally become suggestions only?” we asked one another.  We continued being the only car following said “suggestion.”

Somewhere around  Svenson or Knappa we saw cars parked on both of the road.  We slowed a bit — enough to see the car that had gone over the side  (WAY over the side) to our right.  Maybe one of the cars who had passed us, we thought.  We didn’t stop.  It wasn’t until we were nearing Westport that an Aide Car came barreling toward us.  “Wasn’t that accident closer to Astoria?” we wondered.

Predictably, Bud Cleary did not have our sideview mirror in stock. (Did I make clear that we hate Bud Cleary’s and only go there under duress??) “But we ordered it when we made this appointment.”  A shrug was our response.  On the other hand, we were out of there before two — in plenty of time to stop at the Safeway in Astoria to pick up  a roasted chicken (rosemary/garlic) for dinner.

Road trips, even mini-ones: totally overrated these days.  And why are there so many cars on the road anyway?  Is the pandemic over already? Oh… that’s right.  Traffic around here never did let up.  Or slow down.  Did it?

Meanwhile… in Sequim on January 15th

When the Pacific County Health Department voice asked if we would be willing to go to South Bend for our Covid-19 vaccination, we said “Sure.”  After all what’s an hour and ten minute drive (56.1 miles) after ten months of sheltering?  It’s not that I’m crazy about that drive around the bay.  But we are hardly in a position to negotiate.

I don’t know how far it is as the crow flies.  I remember when the USPO Department was last threatening to close down Oysterville’s post office and they suggested Bay Center as an alternative to us.  They said it was only 6.4 miles away.  Well… yeah!  As the crow flies.  More like 46.8 miles by road.  We thought briefly of going into the carrier pigeon business to supply mail delivery to the town.  Fortunately we didn’t have to.

I’m not quite sure why we need to go clear to South Bend for our vaccine.  Others we know are getting theirs (or did yesterday and the day before) at the County Offices in Long Beach.  They must have run out of vaccine for the beach,  but wouldn’t it have made more sense for them to bring an additional supply this way instead of having all of us old folks clotting up the roads going that way?  (Oh.  I guess I didn’t mention that although the time to get to South Bend should take under an hour and a quarter, it usually takes me about an hour and a half.  I’m a bit of a weenie when it comes to all those curves around the bay…)  I wonder how many of us old ducks will be going that way today?

From “Private Snafu” WW II Cartoon Series by Warner Brothers

But… never mind.  We’ll shortly be on our way.  Once we get this first shot, we’ll be halfway home, so to speak, with the second one scheduled in just four weeks.  Also in South Bend.  I do hope that all the other Phase B-1 folks have managed to get scheduled by now.  I hope they are not still on the endless round of dial-hangup-redial.  It’s a better system than some — as in Sequim’s announcement to their 70-amd-over population, “Just come on down!”  I think the old WW II slogan SNAFU is probably in order regarding the distribution confusion, not just here but everywhere.  You remember… Situation Normal All F*cked Up.  Just sayin’…

It’s an ongoing discussion in our house — not an argument, exactly — but a disagreement we return to periodically, even knowing that there’s no solution.  It’s one of the less important factors in the way each of us is wired — one of those “opposites attract” kinds of things, maybe.  But who knew?

Nyel is one of those people who wants the radio playing all day long.  I don’t think it really matters to him if he is in the room or not.  He is not what you would call “an active listener” — at least not most of the time.  When I catch a snippet of something and want to know more, my beloved husband of about 1/3 of a century just looks at me as if I’ve recently arrived from Mars.  He has no idea how to answer.  He hasn’t been listening.  But godforbid I should turn that radio off.

I, on the other hand, can’t bear background anything.  Voices or music or static — I need to deal with it.  I am compelled to listen, maybe even to take notes or, if it offends, turn it off.  Pull the plug.  Whatever.  And, being the sort of person that I am, I can’t concentrate on two things at once.  No way.

I used to think that my brain was less able than other people’s as in my college roommates who wanted music playing while they studied.  I retreated to the library.  I always thought that they could do two things at once and I was, somehow, not as clever.  Later, when I began teaching, some of my colleagues played “background music” while kids were doing math problems or reading silently. The theory was that it helped them concentrate.  I was always glad I hadn’t had teachers like that.

But, more recently, when Nyel and I have discussed the “radio-always-on problem,” I’m thinking that I gave my roommates and others way too much credit.  Nine times out of ten Nyel has NO concept about what the radio has been spewing forth.  None.  As in nada.   “So why is it on?” I always end up asking.  There apparently is no answer except maybe the radio serves different purposes for different folks.  Given ten minutes of listening, Nyel is likely to be dozing in his chair.  Me… usually a dozen questions forming, most of which will never get answers or even be remembered…  Oh well.