The Magic Phrase Part II

Today I got a call from a nearly incoherent Indian man,  to remind me that  my 'delivery' was about to arrive and they hadn't recieved my payment yet.   Then I remembered that a few weeks ago someone who might well have been this same incoherent Indian man had called to let me know that my Clearing House delivery (o boy o boy color me excited) was arriving soon and they wanted to know if I would be home to accept it, and a small fee for the delivery would be in order now.

At that time we got into an argument about such things and I finally hung up. 

This time I may have found the magic words. I suggest that anyone who gets one of these calls, try it, it works a treat.  "I'm sorry, but we're on a do not call list and you shouldn't be calling here"  click.

I used it yesterday when manly-voiced Joe (or Pete or Frank) called on behalf on the State Fire Marshalls, wanting a donation.  click.

They don't argue.  In the case of the incoherent Indian man, he may be just versed in english enough to think HE has been put on a do not call list and who am I to dissuade him...

Year in review, back-country style

What a strange trip this has been

January and March
two ambulance rides,  one kidney stone/kidney removed.  My husband learned just how much to-ing and fro-ing is involved with running three wood stoves in below zero weather.   He got up a LOT, every two hours every night, whilst I idled my way through surgery and recovery armed only with one book, which I read three times.

February, March
it snowed a lot. It snowed a lot more and got colder.   When I came home Charlie was most solicitous of me, and was careful not to sleep on my stitches. I was most impressed by that.

June to November
Had the kitchen chimney lined,  and 6 cords of wood delivered. We cut and split and threw and stacked a bit every day.  I kept hoping I might lose a pound or two. Nooo. Not gonna happen...a neighbor last year had found a felled tree that straddled his property and ours, and he didn't want to deal with that much tree, so he said he'd help my husband buck it up and let him have the wood, as payment for getting it out of the way.  Which he did.  Nice rock maple that had outlived itself, and we're using it now for heat.

July, August, September
Got rid of the piano. it took an engine hoist and a chain saw, but we got it moved outside and dispersed. (to be gentle about it) Moved some furniture upstairs, and some into ever changing patterns, some of them right out into the car to the salvation army and some magically became kindling. You can never have too  much kindling, nossir.

July, August
 He decided we were about to be the dubious parents of an oil burner and a buncha radiators.  My job to move all the furniture into the middle of the rooms, and no I was not happy about that.  And as he said, since we have the walls cleared, why don't we get some wall board and put up decent looking walls. So I got out my plaster removal kit (one butter knife, a spatula, a hammer,  and a flat bladed screwdriver).  He also let me help him pick up  the wallboard at Home Depot, and then unload it when we got home.  I don't need a fitness trainer, I have a husband who Builds Things.

July
He replaced the water tank and pump, which were well overdue to be replaced.  The 30 gallon hot water heater in the bathroom sprang a leak, so that had to be replaced, too.  Damn didn't we get good at hauling things up and down stairs...


August, September
The radiator people came. They wired and soldered and clanged and complained loudly, and at the end of five days we had 8 new radiators hooked up.  I have no idea how to operate them, at this point, but they do work.  We still use the wood, but I no longer feel the towering need to get up every night and stuff the stoves like a mother bird with her babies, open wide, look at what mama has for you...

October to December
I started on new curtains for the bedroom windows (four) and one for the front hall. Amazing how much cold that keeps back.  We brought the small 36" weaving loom down into the parlor, and at some point I'll run out of excuses and dig into remembering how it works.  It's been awhile.

I also did a bit of sorting as to fabric, and was stunned to discover just how much I really have.  Much if it can be repurposed into things like dustcloths (old flannel sheets are perfect for that), or  potholders (former denim jeans, cut in squares,  folded over and stitched work a treat), and I still have one room upstairs to put curtains to, when it gets warmer.

We survived Christmas, and now it's next year, the days are getting longer,  which is strangely comforting.  Some things can be depended upon, no matter what else happens. 

If you've never seen this...

Heather Cox Richardson

https://heathercoxrichardson.substack.com/p/january-24-2020?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=cta

The Definite Maybe T13

(13 ways to say no to a four year old)

1. soon

2. not yet

3.  not always

4.  hardly ever

5.  probably

6.  possibly

7.  we'll see

8.  maybe, maybe not

9.  if it doesn't rain

10.  when the tide goes out

11.  not until tomorrow

12.  after the mailman comes

13.  ask your father

http://newthursday13.blogspot.com/

I love old age. I get to be cranky

It would seem that the world of scams and hands-across-the-table has discovered that we're old.  And as they know, older people tend to trust more (except for the ones that don't), and are more easily taken in by scammers.  Except for the ones that don't.  So far this week I've fielded calls from insurance companies (for the car I no longer own) and for the policy I don't want and for the healthcare Im not interested in, plus a LOVELY man with a charming Jamaican accent this morning, who wanted to know why I hadn't responded to their inquiries about the Publishers Clearing house contest I won.  I said no, I never look at that stuff, and I throw it away.  He wanted to argue, so I hung up.

From now on, anyone with an Indian accent, or Jamaican, or any other accent will learn, to their sorrow, that she moved away months ago, or never existed, or died, poor dear, a year ago."Her?  That one?  Honey, she dead, she died MONTHS ago, so you just stop calling here, okayyy..."

We are still getting requests to visit our coastal version of  Shady Pines for the Rich and Elderly, gated community (which always puts me in mind of big clangy white gates that slam shut at dark, and you get to sleep outside in your car if you get home late...) and golf course included...

And the burial insurance. Oh, I love that one.  Or the life insurance for the elderly, no medical exam needed, at this age it's a tossup which of us will be burying the other, anyway.

I told my husband,  if you hear me telling people I'm dead, pay it no mind.  It's just my way.