I can tell when it’s one o’ *those* days, Moom…

beachgrassThat means, “Moom, it’s obvious you really don’t have anything much to blahg about today.” And it’s true. I’m just kind of head down boogity-boogity at work and since at least 50% of my job involves pickety-pickety writting writing (writting?), writing/writting that would bore ALL of you to tears within about one paragraph, the digital inkwell can run a little dry. You’re think something like, “well, why post if nothing happened.” Because. My grandfather kept a diary for a couple years back at the turn of the century. I mean the turn of the *last* century, the early 1900s. He didn’t go to college and I can’t think off-hand whether he even graduated from high school but he had the makings of a wonderfully creative writer. He used a small (moleskin?) journal and most of his entries were very short. Almost a century later, I enjoyed the mundane entries just as much as anything. I had no idea what life was like back in the oughts of the 19th century. Motorized automotive vee-hickles? Say what? I mean, maybe there were some (I’m not looking that up right now) but there was no way that the average Yooper family, including my grandfather’s family, owned a motorized automotive vee-hickle. So, even the more mundane entries were interesting. How did people get around town (a lot of walking), etc., etc.

So I will forge ahead even on *those* days because maybe someday my yet-to-be-even-thought-of grandchildren (like I’m sure I once was) will be on the edge of old and baggy (me, now) and, if they can find this goofy old blahg, maybe they’ll be able to envision a little bit about the life of their grumpy and cranky (spirited!!) old grandma. Back in the days of Twitter and Facebook and gasoline powered engines.

So, today. At the moment, the GG and I are fighting with just about the most poorly-designed umbrella on earth. We cannot get it to close! You are supposed to use a button to both open it *and* close it. It always opens just fine. I think I have managed to get it closed about two percent of the time. If the GG cannot do it, I give up. If I ever get the dern thing closed again, I am gonna throw it into the A2 Garbage Cart! Yes, I know how wasteful that is. I paid like $12 dollars for this thing and it is a total design failure. Gimme an old-fashioned bumbershoot any day!!!

I miss my newspaper. The actual *paper* version, that is. I *love* the internet. I am online all the time. I work on a computer that is connected to a LAN and the internet. If I am not at work using my work laptop, I am hanging out on my personal laptop, which is usually connected to the internet. And. I have an iPhone, so I can usually connect to the internet with that when my personal laptop cannot. I used to love to come home and read a *real* newspaper! I don’t find myself seeking out the on-line newspaper. It isn’t that it’s a bad newspaper. It’s just that on-line news isn’t part of my routine. I live for Thursdays and Sundays when we get a real newspaper.

Adding to that, my morning walk is getting scarier these days. Because there is no local daily newspaper any more, lots of folks have signed up to get the NY Times and the delivery person in my neighborhood hot-rods around in their Jeep Liberty at breakneck speed, flinging newspapers left and right. In the dark. Duck and cover, KW! Wonder what my grandaddy would’ve thought about that!

We will NOT TALK ABOUT OUR ONGOING ISSUES WITH BEING AWAKENED AT 4 IN THE MORNING BY A BLEEPIN’ SMOKE RAIN ALARM!!! Er, yes, it’s true, 4 AM is not all that much earlier than I get up in the morning. Still.

G’night, kiddo and all other long-suffering readers,
Kayak Woman

2 Responses to “I can tell when it’s one o’ *those* days, Moom…”

  1. Margaret Says:

    I would really miss my newspaper if I didn’t get it! We get our local paper once a week, but the bigger city paper every day. I love reading it while drinking my coffee.

  2. jane Says:

    re: your umbrella. If it’s like mine you push the button to open and then push the button toclose it. That breaks it down partway, but then you have to push the top down towards the handle to fully collapse it. Then push the button to open again.