CINCO DE MAYO -- NOT

         Well, I hope your Cinco de Mayo went much better than mine. I went on line early in the day to place my order at Todo Mexico. My mouse froze up while I was looking at the menu. I couldn’t find a way to unfreeze the damn thing. I called a neighbor and ended up just turning the computer off per his advice. Voila, when I turned it back on, the mouse worked.

          Rather than return to the menu and place my order, I went about my day. It was a busy one. I had to go to Fred Meyer to get a couple of those cocoanut basket liners. Amazingly, it was cheaper to buy two whole new baskets ($4.99 each), as opposed to purchasing just the liners.

          Back home I returned to working in the garage and sorting through piles of crap. It’s coming alone, though, even if it doesn’t look that way. I’ve almost completely cleaned out this big green cabinet that has 36 drawers. I can’t believe some of the stuff I’m finding in there.

          It got so hot in the garage I stopped and read for a while in the cool of the house. Then, since I knew it was supposed to rain today, I got busy planting the remaining plants I purchased last Friday.

          Suddenly, it’s going on 6:00 pm and I’m starving. I went back to the computer to order my Cinco de Mayo dinner. They weren’t answering the phone, but the listing said Todo Mexico was open. So, I got in the car, figuring I’d place my order and wait in my car. Well, the parking lot was empty and the restaurant was closed.

          I’m already out in my car, so I drove to Azteca in Mountlake Terrace. I couldn’t believe the crowd of people standing around outside. I rolled my window down and talked with a young man who said they’d ordered on-line and had been told 15 minutes and they’d been there for 20. There was a big sign with the phone number. I called the number and no answer.

          On the way back home, I stopped by Las Espuelas by the grocery store I patronize. Again, a hoard of people waiting all around this restaurant as well. My next choice would have been Taco Bell in Kenmore, but I gave up and drove home.

          Rather than those yummy cheesy enchiladas I’d so looked forward to eating, I celebrated Cinco de Mayo with a packet of Chinese BBQ pork, half an avocado, and some cottage cheese with blueberries…with my tot of gin.

          I sincerely hope you were able to acquire or make whatever you planned on for Cinco de Mayo. As for me, I’ll just have to look forward to the next one and hope I can plan ahead a bit better. Actually, I’m really really really hoping I can make a reservation for myself and my friends for the next one.

CINCO DE MAYO

         Here we are, May 5^th, Cinco de Mayo. I was seriously hoping a bunch of us could get together and patronize a Mexican restaurant to celebrate the end of shelter-in-place and our ability to once again eat out. Well, that’s not going to happen for any of us is it?

          If any of us do decide to celebrate Cinco de Mayo, it will be via take out or delivery and either alone or with our partners/family. For me, it will be alone. As I write this, I am seriously thinking about ordering either fajitas or cheese enchiladas for pick up. I don’t have any tequila, but that’s okay because I can either drink tequila or eat Mexican food, but the combination doesn’t agree with me at all. If I’m going to enjoy both of them, I have to indulge at separate times.

          At this point, I don’t know if I’ll order from Todo Mexico up the street or Azteca, but it would be one of the two since they are my favorites. Thinking about Mexican food made me remember something that happened a very long time ago. Another great memory.

          There used to be a Mexican restaurant on Aurora just west of Echo Lake. It was called Viva Mexico and John and I and the boys were frequent visitors there. They made the very best cheese enchiladas I’ve ever had. We went there one evening for dinner. At that point in time tequila and Mexican food went well together for me. I ordered a margarita and the waiter asked if I wanted the grande. Thus, began an evening which we laughed about for a long time.

          When my drink arrived, it was the size of a fishbowl. I’d never ordered a grande before, so had no idea about the size. Immediately, John and my wonderful sons began to caution me about drinking the whole thing, i.e.,

          “Mom, you’re not going to drink that whole thing are you?”

          “Please don’t drink the whole thing, Mom.”

          “Honey, you’re going to be so sorry if you drink all that alcohol.”

          To make matters even better, they didn’t use tiny voices and where we were sitting, we were surrounded by other diners. Those diners looked over at us and you could almost see them thinking, if not saying,

          “Such a nice-looking family. Too bad the mom’s a drunk. “

          “Oh, that poor family. The mom must have a drinking problem.”

          I’m sure you’ve gotten the idea by now. Well, I’ve never been a huge drinker, but John and the boys really annoyed the heck out of me, so I was determined to down the entire fishbowl, and maybe even lick the bottom. So, I did.

          Whoa, was I drunk or what? I was barely able to get up and walk out of that restaurant. Back home, I went to bed and went to sleep…okay, passed out.

          It was probably a couple of hours later. John had come to bed and AJ, was in the doorway, telling me Pam was on the phone.

          “Tell her I’ll call her back in the morning,” I mumbled.

          John shook me and said, “Paula, it’s Pam, she has to go to the hospital to have the baby.”

          Well, that did wake me up. I took the phone and told her I’d be right there. Pam and her husband Walt were friends, and I’d agreed to babysit Walt’s daughter if she was visiting the weekend they had to go to the hospital. I got up, got dressed and headed for their house in Kenmore.

          Kenmore isn’t all that far from Lake Forest Park, in fact, they are adjacent in some places. I was still very drunk. I rolled the windows down in my car and drove very very carefully through Lake Forest Park. My little city had a reputation for handing out traffic tickets. Ha, they wouldn’t have given me a ticket if they’d stopped me, they’d have hauled me off to the pokey with a DUI. I made it okay though and didn’t get stopped.

          At Pam’s, I went back to sleep…okay passed out again…on their couch after they left for the hospital. Their daughter was born that upcoming afternoon. I was stone cold sober by then, and didn’t even have a hangover. But I wonder if that fishbowl-sized margarita is why I can now not eat Mexican food and drink tequila together.

          Instead of tequila, once I’ve picked up my dinner, I’ll raise my tot of gin and wish you all a very happy Cinco de Mayo…and hope that 2021 will allow us to exchange that greeting face-to-face. And, if we can, maybe I’ll throw caution to the wind and order another fishbowl…as long as I’m not the designated driver.

MAY THE FOURTH BE WITH YOU

         Today is Star Wars Day. I hadn’t really thought about it until this morning. It may even be too late now that the weather is getting so much better and things are growing like weeds, especially the weeds, out in the garden. This would be the perfect time to binge watch all the Star Wars movies in their correct order.

          Is there a correct order though? Should I watch them as they were issued? Should I watch them by how they are named, i.e., begin with I and go through what is it VI or VIII? And, what about all the other Star Wars programs that were issued for TV?

          Sheesh, it sounds like a job just deciding how to go about watching all of them. I could do it though. I could watch one each evening and still get out in the sunshine during the day. I’ll let you know how it goes.

          Meanwhile, May the Fourth Be With You…today and always.

ADVENTURING???

         Friday was an adventure day for me, myself and I. I got up showered, went on my daily walk for an hour, had breakfast and then got into my car for a 30-minute drive. I’d say two-thirds of the drive was on roads I used to traverse daily when I had a job. The second third I would use when Greenwood Avenue was too busy, either coming or going from home. Then, I used Third Avenue, which is what I used Friday.

          Not getting out and about very much certainly made me appreciate every single sight that came into my field of vision. There were special homes, yards and locations I hadn’t seen in a long while. I slowed down and looked especially hard at those as I passed. On Third Avenue, I was amazed at how many homes had been removed and replaced by new, more modern ones. When did that happen? I know it didn’t just happen since shelter-in-place became the norm, but not working didn’t provide many opportunities to drive that particular road.  

          My destination was Swanson’s Nursery in north Ballard. This nursery is allowing people to come shop on an appointment basis. You have to go on line and make an appointment. When you arrive, you have to be wearing a mask, as are all the employees in lime green shirts, and check in with the receptionist. After you are checked off, you take one of the clean shopping carts and are free to move about the nursery, but there are signs encouraging you to keep a six-foot distance from shoppers and staff.

          I could have spent most of the day there wandering around looking at stuff, but I believe you are expected to obtain what you want and be out of there within 30 minutes. So, I paid attention to my business. I selected a couple of squash plants, a pumpkin plant, and then sought out the tomato section. I’ve purchased my tomato starts at Swanson’s for the last five years at least and have always had very good luck.

          There are four pots on my driveway, so I chose four tomato plants that will get fairly large. Then I looked for the Tumbling Toms. I couldn’t find them and asked a staff person. She told me they were hiding from me, but directed me to where I found them. Initially, I thought there were only red ones, but I did find a yellow one too. The Toms will go in hanging baskets. I haven’t yet decided if I’ll move them out front to hang from the eves or if I’ll hang them in their usual spot in the backyard.

          In addition to the tomatoes, squash and pumpkin, I also bought Thai basil, regular basil and chives. I’ll plant those in smaller pots. I asked if Swanson’s carried potatoes, because I have two larger pots I’d like to plant with those. They did not, but I have some small red potatoes, so I think I’ll just plant a couple of those in each pot. They’ve worked just fine in the past.

          At checkout, I almost had to laugh. The young woman checking was wearing a mask. I was wearing a mask, but she was definitely into keeping six feet away from me. She told me to stay behind the stand that had the credit card machine. Then she took my cart, counted up the plants and rang them up. When I came around the table that held the credit card reader to get my cart, she backed further away than six feet. Better safe than sorry though, especially since I wasn’t the only shopper she was going to have to deal with that day.

          I took a different route home. I went back up Third and across 145^th to the freeway. I got on there and was amazed at how much work has been accomplished adjacent the freeway for the light rail. It wasn’t all that long ago I was making weekly trips with John, and the work seemed to progress at a snail’s pace. Miss a month…or two…and, wow, it’s coming right along.

          Instead of getting off at the Lake Forest Park exit, I went to the next one for Mountlake Terrace and east on whatever street that is. They’ve (whoever they is) have been working on that street forever, and they’re still not done. I drove carefully past all the orange drums, equipment and people. I believe they’re not just working on the street, but the light rail track as well. That led me to wonder if I’d be alive by the time it would be available for me to use.

A friend was going to come visit at 1:00 pm, but since I’d adhered to the 30 minutes at Swanson’s, I had time to grocery shop, so I did. I carefully parked in the south part of the lot because they had had only the south door open. When I got to the door, there was a sign informing me that door was closed…use the north door. Ah well, that was okay, just more steps toward my daily goal.

Shopping finished, I turned toward home. Not a lot new to see on that street because it’s the one I always use when I go to the grocery store.

This little adventure made me think about how reduced my travel area has become since I retired. When I worked, yes, I did travel the same route to and from most times, but those are routes I rarely use now. Plus, there were often events or errands that would take me out and about to Fremont, Ballard, the University District and other places. My life seemed to loom much larger then.

With the pandemic, my travel and my life have become even more limited. With the exception of Friday, I don’t think I’ve ventured further than 1.5 miles from my house most weeks. When I have to go to Costco, it’s probably three miles, but I only go there maybe once a month. Since some time in March, I’ve had two visitors, aside from my son, his wife and daughter. One yesterday and one the Friday before. I, myself, haven’t been out to visit anyone anyplace else.

Yes, I talk to people on the phone, stay in touch via email and/or Facebook, but it definitely seems as though my life is becoming more and more diminished. This is happening at a time when I seriously expected my life to be growing and expanding with new experiences, places, friends, family and abilities. That’s not happening for me or for the majority of people these days. It doesn’t look like the door to any novel happenings is going to open wide any time soon thanks to the novel coronavirus.

Getting out and traveling about on Friday really was an adventure and I was surprised just how excited and pleased I was to travel those roads and see those sights. I read something recently, or someone told me, about just getting in the car and taking a drive. You don’t need to wear a face mask for that. You don’t have to come in contact with any other people in the process. All you have to do is get in the car, turn it on, and choose a direction. I think in the coming days and weeks, while we’re still sheltering-in-place, I’m going to do just that…plan a little road trip for me, myself and I.

RYTHER, MARRIAGE COUNSELING, MOVING ON

         It’s funny how one post can lead to the next. Yesterday I mentioned Ryther Child Center and the counseling I received there. I didn’t have one-to-one counseling for very long and was then introduced into a group setting. The group was made up of mothers just like me who had been referred because of a tendency for some form of child abuse. The number of participants changed over time, but there was a core group of us.

          We all brought our children who participated in a play group across the hall. I assume they were monitoring the kids to make sure we weren’t abusing them, but I never asked and the counselors never said. I know AJ loved going there and playing with the friends he made.

          Fortunately, this counseling was on a sliding fee scale which was a good thing because I don’t think any of us could have afforded to participate otherwise. We had two counselors, Paul and Susan. Once I figured out that Paul was the counselor who ripped off your scab and Susan was the positive one providing succor and support, they pretty much kicked me out. I guess they figured they’d done as much for me as they could.

          I have to admit they did a good job. I never abused my children either physically or mentally. When I had to use the wooden spoon, it took like six smacks and when the crying ended, I’d go in and we’d talk about how I felt like such a bully and hated to hurt my son, but mommy had tried everything to get the child to do whatever it was…usually disappearing without telling me where to. As far as mental abuse. I was raised with guilt, and no matter how hard I try to guilt my boys into doing something…”Yeah, mom, that’s not gonna work.”

          We met once a week, on a Thursday, for an hour and a half. There were days I stayed in bed until it was almost time to go because I didn’t want to go. I knew it was my turn to have my scab(s) ripped off. I didn’t like that. I also didn’t like Paul telling me that crying so hard I couldn’t talk was a way to avoid dealing with whatever we were working on at that point in time. I persevered because I wanted to be a good mother.

          There are two women in particular I remember from these sessions. One of them had just had her fourth son. She was devastated. She was also Catholic and believed God was punishing her by giving her boys. In high school, she’d gotten pregnant and her parents had pretty much locked her in the attic and forced her to give up that child for adoption. She’d given up a daughter and that’s why God was giving her boys. She also didn’t have a very supportive husband…think he drank…and she was, as we say now, a hot mess. She was still in counseling when I left and I hope she eventually came to terms with herself.

          The other woman had one child and not much of a support group outside of our sessions. She was amazingly talented artistically. At Christmas time one year, she brought us each a cookie that she had baked and decorated. It was the most beautiful cookie I had ever seen. I simply couldn’t eat it and used it as an ornament on my tree until it finally fell apart one year. I wonder if she was ever able to go on and do something with her talent.

          Now, I’ve mentioned that John and I separated and then got back together. Well, things didn’t go well, so we were going to separate again. This time I was the one that was adamant. I told John, “I didn’t want to share the same air we breathed if that’s all we shared.” I gave him a hard date by which he had to move out of the house…I was making enough money by then to make the mortgage payment.

          It was John this time who worked hard to convince me we should not separate. He brought up marriage counseling and wanted to go. I was still involved with Ryther then, so he went to see someone there. He did not like the counselor he was seeing one little bit. So, I asked Paul if he could be neutral enough to counsel us both.

          At our first meeting with Paul, he told us he’d see us five times and on the fifth time, he’d tell us to either call it quits or what we needed to work on to stay married. On the fifth time, Paul told us there was a lot of glue holding our marriage together, but we didn’t know how to communicate with each other. For the next year, John and I went every other week to meet with Paul. Toward the end, we got to where we’d say, “Fine, don’t talk to me now. You can pay $40 to hear it next week.”

          John and I learned how to communicate and communicate well. I was a little worried because he went to Alaska to work for the summer as a carpenter for New England Fish fairly soon after we finished counseling. Since there weren’t any phones where he was, he wrote letters. If I have any of the ones he wrote to me, they’re probably in the trunk in the attic. AJ hadn’t yet learned to read well, so John wrote letters using pictographs. I saved those letters in AJ’s baby book and AJ still has them. They were fun and clever and certainly showed just how much he loved his boy. I think I’d like to read them again as a matter of fact.

          That was right around 1977. Move ahead to 1979. We had finally gotten pregnant…only took five years, but we had a great time getting there. We showed up for our childbirth classes at Group Health. There was a woman there alone. She said her husband was running late. Imagine our surprise when in walked our counselor, Paul. At least he learned from our presence his counseling provided positive results. 

          During childbirth, we found out Paul and his wife had a daughter and had lost another child. I don’t remember if it was at childbirth or later. In any case, their daughter had been an only child for a long time. It was so nice to see him again, but John took exception to Paul’s attitude toward the only child getting a sibling…she’ll need to just get over it.

          I gave birth to Thor on a Friday. I had to stay in the hospital longer than planned because I hemorrhaged after Thor was born. I think it was the day I went home, but suddenly, there was Paul in the hallway…his wife had just given birth to his son.

          A couple of years went by and I was in need of a counselor, or at least some advice. Paul was in private practice, so I made an appointment. I was in a lot of pain because an extremely good friend had a husband who was abusive. He had told her she could not see me again because John had threatened to break both his arms if he ever hurt her again.

          This was someone with whom I spent part of every single day for at least three years. Suddenly, she and her kids could no longer be a part of my life. It hurt and it hurt a lot. Paul’s advice, however, didn’t ease the hurt in any way. He had seen my friend and her husband for counseling (my recommendation) at least once, so he was aware. His advice to me was to stay in touch with her. I was to pretend she was on an island that didn’t have outgoing mail or phones. I should still call and send cards and letters.

          I never saw Paul again after that session. I felt a bit betrayed because his advice didn’t assuage my pain. Eventually, my friend did get a divorce, but moved much further away. I still see her on occasion and when I do, it’s like we just got together yesterday. She’s happy now and I’m happy she’s happy, but it would be absolutely super if she lived around the corner from me like she once did.

          Sitting here at the keyboard, I’m amazed by how my mind has traveled through some of those back years and memories. Pam, begonia; Susan, begonia; Ryther, Paul; childbirth class, Paul; my friend, Paul. I know exactly how Pam and my other friend are doing, but I have no idea about Susan or Paul. I sincerely hope they are having great lives…they added so much that was beneficial to mine.

DIABETIC DIET...UGH

         On Tuesday I had a phone visit with my doctor about a recent problem. It could be the result of Type II diabetes, so rather than put me back on Metformin, which I stopped taking last August, we agreed I would adjust my diet and see if I could get my blood glucose back down to a lower range. I hate getting the message, “High Pattern” on the glucose reader and I’ve been getting it a lot lately.

          Now, for those of you who may not know me well, I don’t, and haven’t ever looked as though I could have diabetes of any type. In fact, when I was first diagnosed, the day after Thanksgiving, thank you so much, I told them they had the wrong person. That’s because I didn’t eat a lot of junk and sugar and got up at 4:30 am every morning to go to the gym before I went to work.

          Nope, the nurse calling informed me, I was definitely a Type II diabetic. Like I said, this was the day after Thanksgiving, so I was given until the end of February to bring my A1c down to a non-diabetic level. I gave up every single bit of sugar I’d had in my live, mainly two raw sugars in my grande latte. I also gave up carbs…not a one passed my lips. I looked for and found a non-carb bread. I watched what I ate and drank like a hawk with a mouse in view.

          Come the end of February, my A1c hadn’t budged at all even though I’d lost 20 pounds. Bummer. So, it was on to Metformin. I worked with the Group Health pharmacist for a number of months to find the right dosage and keep track of my glucose. Eventually, he told me I didn’t need to check my glucose more than a few times a week, unless I changed my diet dramatically. He also told me it was okay to “binge” once in a while and have pizza or a hamburger, something that was really good, but not necessarily good for me. The research I did then led me to believe I am insulin intolerant.

          So, that’s what I’ve done for the last 12 years or so, until last summer. I had developed some intestinal problems. After much complaining, I went to see a gastroenterologist. He looked at my history, talked about this and that, what I could and could not try. At almost the end of the appointment, he brought up Metformin. That drug, he said, could actually cause my problem. He suggested I stop taking it for a couple of weeks and see what happened. I did and added Citrucel to my diet. Problem solved.

          I then emailed with my primary doctor and she agreed I should stop the Metformin. Then, in six months (March 2020), I would have my A1c done and decide whether to return to Metformin. Well, y’all know what happened. I managed to get my eyes checked (no big change, yeah!!!) and my ears tested (another no big change, yeah!!!), but before I could get to the lab or get to the doctor appointment I had for the end of March, everything was cancelled!!!

          So, here I am worried about my high glucose levels and no way to test aside from my little monitor. No way to get to a lab and have my A1c determined. If it remains under seven (7), then I don’t need a diabetes drug of any kind at my age. So, since I can’t visit the lab and as a result of that MD phone conversation, I’m changing my diet…boo, hiss, moan, cry.

          Starting today, once again, I’m going to be watching my sugar and carbs. I’ve pulled up the old spreadsheet I developed that will show absolutely everything I eat and drink as well as all the various nutritional values of whatever enters my big mouth. I love Safeway everything bagels. I toast them, put a slice of cheese on top, melt the cheese and top with sliced English cucumbers. The is my lunch most days…not anymore beginning today. Going forward, it’s going to be veggies, fruit, seafood, chicken, and a bit of meat.

          I already thought I was eating well, but apparently not. I’m going to have to concentrate on eating multiple times a day, but small amounts. And, I’m going to have to keep that spreadsheet pulled up and filled in. I haven’t looked to see how much in the way of sugar or carbs my daily allotment of gin contains, but I may have to stop that as well.

          There’s no way I can even look forward to having a “binge” meal since I can’t go to a restaurant. Yes, I could still get one of those meals to go, but why put out the extra effort if I cannot share it with a friend. At this horrible pandemic time, it seems like I should be able to just eat whatever I want since it’s just about the only physical pleasure available.

          You know, somehow old age is definitely not all it was cracked up to be. My old body has a variety of problems that can be or are addressed via prescription medications, i.e., levothyroxine (thank you radiation), Cymbalta (thank you chemotherapy), Gabapentin (thank you chemotherapy). These are supposed to be my “golden years?” Well, if they’re golden, it’s only a very thin coat over lead. I’m sure I’d feel a lot different if we weren’t in the midst of this pandemic. I guess you could say I’m feeling sorry for myself…sheesh, what a surprise.

I think of my grandma, and I should keep her memory at the forefront. She didn’t exercise, she wore housedresses and fixed and ate pretty much whatever she wanted. If memory serves, she didn’t take hardly anything in the way of medications, either prescription or over the counter. She seemed extremely happy with her lot in life. If she wasn’t, she certainly didn’t whine (like me) about it and just kept on keeping on. I guess I’ll keep on keeping on, but as of today, I doubt there’ll be very much in the way of tasty foods going over my lips, by my gums, look out tummy, here it comes.

GRRRRR, COMCAST, GRRRRR

         I had already a post for today, but that was before our wonderful internet and cable provider, Comcast, took up my entire Wednesday. I have never ever disliked a company as wholeheartedly as I dislike this company. It might be different if there was a choice to be made, but Comcast has a monopoly in my little city. Yes, I’ve seen Century Link and Frontier trucks out and about, and I even think there are some people who have one or the other, but they aren’t any happier than I am.

          When I got up Tuesday morning, I let the dogs out, made my latte and sat down to watch the crawl on Good Morning America. There was no service. I got a message saying the company had a problem and they were working hard to rectify. Thanks for your patience. Fine, I went on with my day.

Late last evening, I turned on the TV again, only to receive the same message. I texted my neighbor and she responded saying their cable had been out earlier in the day, but came back on about 2:00 pm. So, I tried all the usual things, unplugging, plugging back in, and finally called Comcast. When the computer operator learned my zip code, she informed me there was an outage, assured me they were working hard, thanked me for my patience and hung up.

I went to my computer. Additional frustration because I could not get a real live person. All I got was a computerized assistant who told me the same thing I’d heard on the phone only in print. No matter how I tried to word my question, I got the same message over and over. Fine, pissed, I went to bed and read for a while. I usually set the TV on mute and to turn itself off in an hour. I had a bit of difficulty going to sleep because without outside interference, my brain likes to dance about from one topic to another, keeping me awake.

This morning, I got up, let the dogs out, made my latte and turned the TV on. Same thing, same message. I went on my walk and when I came home, I called Comcast again. Got the same operator who gave me the same information and hung up on me.

Moved to the computer and said to text me when an operator was available. I also said I wanted to wait for an agent on line…figured I’d get some help one way or another. Well, I got a phone call and when I got off, I had five text messages…three said I could chat now, one said my service had been restored, one said my time was up.

Back to the computer and this time I got to chat live with William who was very helpful. He did everything he could to get me back on line. Nothing he did worked, so he had to talk to his support division. I then got a text telling me a technician would be here today between 2:00 and 4:00 pm. I got the message before William did.

Now the technician (Will) has been here for more than an hour and it still isn’t working. He’s now outside checking various connections. He found more than one connection that is apparently still on line…the connection to the living room and the one to the bedroom should be the only live ones. He’s in the process of shutting down all the other connections…apparently the one that used to go to John’s room and the one that went to my sewing room. He’s even on the side of the house where I didn’t think there was anything.

I wish there was some way I could bill Comcast for my time. I figure if I was still working, I’d be making $50-60/hour, so that company could end up owing me an entire month’s payment (or more), or one month of free service. That, of course, won’t happen. Actually, it should be more because of the other things I had planned to do today. None of those happened except for cleaning and dusting my desk…did that while I was waiting on William’s multiple responses. At least I’m now surrounded by dust-free and shiny surfaces in which I can throw my hissy fit.

Will left a bit after 6:00 pm, so he was here a good three plus hours. I certainly cannot fault him for his service…he was GREAT. Besides checking everything in the house, he climbed up the telephone pole and checked everything there. He gave me a new box, he ran a line from outside to the box, but no matter what he did, including talking to other folks elsewhere, he kept getting the very same message I did. Eventually, he talked to someone who said it might be a node…whatever that is. Another technician was going out to check on that.

Will asked if he could hang around for a while to make sure it worked whenever the node was fixed. I gave him a diet Coke and we swapped stories about caves and travel and families. After being home alone f o r e v e r, it was nice having someone at the other end of the room on the couch participating in a conversation with me.

Then, just before KOMO TV news came to an end, voila, the TV came on. Will disconnected his line to outside and the TV froze, but as soon as he connected my cable, it came right back on. He finished gathering his materials and went home for dinner. Will said in his 20 years of service, he’s never had a problem like mine…how about that, once again I’m an original. 

Now, while I may HATE Comcast, the technicians I’ve dealt with today as well as those from a year ago were first rate. They were kind, knowledgeable, eager to fix my problem(s), and didn’t quit until the TV was on and working again. In a survey this morning, I gave William gold stars and if they ask about Will, he’ll get the same…nothing but positive comments.

I still think I should get a month free though…don’t you agree???