Tuesday, 2:07 pm
Last night I pep talked myself into believing that standing in line at the Motor Vehicles office today wouldn’t be that bad. But it was. Just as bad as it always is. And even worse, being the last day of the month.
Yeah, I put it off until the last minute. Under normal circumstances, I could re-register my car online. But this time, the registry of motor vehicles insisted that I owed them for last year’s auto excise tax and there was going to be no registration without paying it first or proving that I already had. And, naturally, it fell to me to prove that I paid the excise tax. And that can’t be done online.
So I hauled myself into the Registry this morning and stood in line for two hours with my various pieces of paper. When I finally got to the desk, the clerk told me that she couldn’t put through my registration until I had a certified document from the tax collector’s office, upstairs and on the other side of the building. It wasn’t enough that I had a canceled check in my hand. I had to have a release number that can only be issued by the tax collector’s office. That must be secret information because it certainly wasn’t posted anywhere.
But the tax office was easy and I was in and out of that office in a little under 5 minutes.
Then I went back to the registry office and stood in line for another hour and a half. Most of the transactions ahead of me were suspended licenses being renewed—or declined. It’s always surprising to me to see how many suspended license matters there are on the rare occasions that I’m in that office. And, of course, that particular transaction raises a lot of tempers and arguments and shouting. Which is why there is a police officer on duty at the door. And why a simple tap ("Is there a problem, sir?") on the shoulder by the police officer tends to quiet matters down abruptly. Well, except for the fellow who went nose to nose with the police officer and ended up being escorted out in handcuffs. Life can be downright exciting at the Registry.
It’s an interesting slice of life. But all that waiting and drama for a very simple transaction that actually took 2 minutes and 23 seconds...including the check writing for the registration fee. And with a few pleasantries exchanged besides.
Now I have to go have the car inspected. Bleh!!
Spoiling her is fun
Monday, 4:02 pm
I took my recovering friend out for a drive today while I ran errands and did a few for her, too. Being housebound has lost every last bit of appeal for her and she was so excited about going out that you’d think we were going to visit exotic lands and see rare sights. I have to admit, though, when you see something through someone’s eyes, it does change one’s perspective. She wanted to sit by the harbor and just watch the water for a while and her observations made me realize just how much I take all this for granted—in fact, I hardly see what I’m seeing most days. Today was a good reminder to take the time to really observe.
While we were out, I stopped into a local shop to pick up some dog treats for her dog. While I was there, I couldn’t resist doing the same for Terry. When I came home I laid them out on the floor so Terry could take a look and sniff things over. She was very excited, although she couldn’t quite figure out the value of the Sponge Bob thingy. It doesn’t exactly look chewable to her. But it’s her new sweater. Now that the nights are growing colder and I’m not turning the heat on yet, she gets cold and needs to wear something to bed to keep her warm. I haven’t tried it on her yet, but I think it’ll be worth a picture if it fits her.
The bag on the top right is full of rawhide chips. A bag like that usually lasts about a week and a half. She gets two every time she comes back in the house after being called. She always comes back in the house after being called now. What’s the point of being stubborn if you’re so richly rewarded for not being stubborn? Didn’t take her long to figure that one out. The two smaller bags on the lower right are treats to keep her occupied and out of mischief when I leave the house for short jaunts out and about. The bag on the bottom of the sweater is full of treats for when I’m going to be gone for a few hours. And the bag on the top left was full of pig ears. They are for any occasion that seems right and coming home with a sack full of treats was just such an occasion. I spoil her a bit, but it’s such a lot of fun to do.
Monday, 12:10 pm
So, did all those of us who follow daylight saving time or standard time remember to set all our clocks back this weekend? I forgot entirely until my beloved atomic clocks self adjusted. At least there are two clocks in my house telling me the right time (plus the computer), but it may take me a few days to remember to turn all the rest of my clocks back. Even the one in the car, which, for most of the winter, is one hour ahead and I just make the adjustment in my head every time I look at it. Seems as if I’d remember how to turn it back, but every time I have to dig out the manual to figure out how to do it and, well, it just seems like less trouble to make the mental adjustment. When are auto makers going to put atomic clocks in cars?
I so love my atomic clocks. A couple of these would be nice, too. On the other hand, I already have too many clocks—at least 9, counting off the top of my head. On the third hand, I could never have too many. I love clocks.
Five little ghosts
Saturday, 11:45 pm
I saw this photograph on an open forum someplace today, while I was in search of other things. There was no attribute, so I don’t know who it belongs to. What good doggies. I cannot imagine trying to get five dogs to sit still all at the same time while wearing costumes and holding pumpkins in their teeth. This breaks the cuteness meter.
Saturday, 6:48 pm
Most of the time I don’t like telephone surveys. And I usually try to cut the caller off before they’ve had a chance to say more than a couple of words. But this afternoon, a woman called doing a health care survey and, while I wasn’t in the mood for it, there was something about her voice and telephone mannerism that was so sweet and gentle and kind that I just couldn’t hang up on her. Boyohboy, there’s the secret to successful telephone surveys.
She and I talked for about 15 minutes. She seemed a little nervous and I heard children in the background so I kind of assumed she was working from home and, maybe, new at this. I mentioned the children and before you know it we had a nice little chat about life in general. That was unexpected and quite pleasant. She really was a gentle soul.
I pretty much sneezed my way through the survey— my autumn allergies have been raging the past couple of days. After every sneeze, she wanted to say, “Bless you,” but it became apparent that my sneezes were outnumbering her ability to keep up. I told her that maybe we should address that issue after the survey was over.
And when the survey was completed, she thanked me profusely, hoped I’d have a wonderful rest of the weekend and said, “God bless you many times.”
That had to been the most unusual (and best) survey or unsolicited phone call I’ve ever received.
Not Ready to Make Nice
Friday, 11:22 pm
Presenting the Dixie Chicks. Didn’t used to know who they were, but I do now. And I love ‘em.
In a just world, Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi will be able to stand up and give them a justified round of applause in 10 days and ask to borrow the song title as their motto. Without remorse. Without guilt. Without equivocating. To hell with making nice, is what I say. Doesn’t get you anywhere except stabbed in the back.
Go Dems, make them sweat. With no regrets.
(found at Linkmeister’s)