Wordless Wednesday (8 October)

PhotoHunt Theme: "Sad",
4 October, 2008

Setup: I have an HP touch-screen laptop that came with the Vista operating system, but I don’t like it for a number of reasons. One is that it is a memory hog. 1 Gig of memory would be fine for another OS but it is the minimum you can get by with for Vista. You really need 2 Gigs to have enough memory for games and multiple apps. And, another complaint but nothing to do with Vista, if a laptop has 1 Gig preinstalled then it is most likely in the form of two 512 MByte sticks, using both memory slots. Cheaper that way, for them, but you have to replace both sticks to upgrade, i.e. can’t just add the extra.

Great deal: This week I ran across a great deal, $29 for 1 Gig of laptop memory. I ordered two sticks Monday and they arrived today. Over $200 worth of memory for about 60 bucks.

The idiot factor: This morning I unscrewed the memory-socket cover on the bottom of my newish laptop and guess what I saw plugged in, already plugged in. Not two 512 Meg sticks, but, wait; are you thinking “a 1 Gig stick and, so, Mr. Kada ordered one stick too many”? Well, no, not one too many! Mr. Kada ordered two sticks too many.

It must be my other laptop that could use some memory. Unfortunately, it uses the older “PC” style memory and what I just bought is “PC2″, so can’t use it there.

The birth of Mr. Kada: After thinking of myself as not exactly Mr. Know-it-all and can-do-it-all, i.e. Mr. Kada, I registered the domain name http://mrkada.com. I don’t know what I will do with it but registering it without plans for it seems exactly like the kind of thing a pretend Mr. Kada would do.

I went to make popcorn last night and all I got was arcs and sparks. Since there is no way we can go a day without a microwave we were off to Lowes this morning for a replacement. I don’t know which was more tiring, taking the old one down or putting the new one up. Had to drill all new holes of course and put up a new mounting bracket. My arms were so tired I could hardly lift them. Well, if my need was for exercise I guess the day was a success, but I prefer it on a bike.

As soon as Jeanne saw me micro-adjusting the setting she said "I know what you are doing" and gave me a sweet little kiss as I ran off for the camera. She must like me celebrating her meals.

That was late in the day, now for a flash back

The day started and ended nicely but the middle was frustrating. In the morning the weather was beautiful. It was the kind of day that when you walked in the sun you could feel it penetrate, driving the tension from  your body, a perfect day for a bike ride. I was wanting it, Jeanne was wanting it, and Kurt was especially wanting it as he had not been on the last couple of rides. I went out and unlocked three bikes for some pre-ride care which at least includes checking the air in the tires. I decided to do a little more than that on such a nice day.

Here is the Rocket in position for a chain oiling. You have to put some special oil on each individual link, and  the chain is really long. The oil is extra thin in order to not easily collect lint and road ort. As you can see I used the bike-mobile’s rack as a bike stand. This was fun. I finished, positioned the bikes for easy access, and went in to collect the crew.

The day morphed

Kurt was asleep and could not wake enough to ride. I wanted him to go but I’d also enjoy riding with just Jeanne. (We all understand the value of one-on-one and often arrange for all combinations of the three of us, two at a time. ) Jeanne was ready to go but wondered if we could run two small errands first. I agreed that they needed to be done and I locked the bikes back up.

Hammer number 1

First some background: Jeanne bought this painting from a local artist that needs framing (the painting, not the artist), actually bought two but the other she already framed (She found a cheap, old painting which she bought just for the frame). Jeanne took the unframed one to a shop a couple months ago and picked out a frame style she liked but the materials would have to be ordered.  OK, she can wait. However, when she returned after the estimated delay she was told that the materials were backordered until February. This just isn’t fair. She wanted the painting in the frame for the season. OK, she can wait.

However, as she thought about it she realized she did not want to wait until February and wanted to select something in stock. The clear choice was not available so she wanted me to go also and help with the selection.

Enough of the background, back to yesterday, which was when we were both available with minimal inconvenience. I took the painting down form the wall and Jeanne and I head off to the frame shop. We got there well before they closed, well, before the sign on the door says they close. They must have had some small errands to run. Good for them but the look on Jeanne’s face! All the disappointments of waiting had instantaneously settled there. She looked like she wanted to choke a chicken. I patted her on the back, afraid to say the wrong thing, afraid to become a chicken.

Hammer number 2

We went on to a specialty shop to pick up/out a gift for Kurt. Jeanne had gone by before and the guy told her he had some better stock at home that he would bring in for her selection. Kurt is a good customer and he did not mind the extra trouble. As it turned out it was no trouble at all. He forgot. He went off to the stock room to see what he could find. I looked at Jeanne and she looked at me and we agreed that we didn’t want to select just from what he could find. We made arrangements to return Tuesday; they are closed Mondays. Just in case he forgets I think I’ll get Jeanne a rubber chicken for Christmas.

Hammer number 3

We returned home anticipating a well-deserved ride. I unlocked the bikes and we collected our gear. Kurt was still out like a light. I said that I had better check the weather (as I always do).

This is what I saw on the computer. It may have been clear and beautiful overhead but something evil was on the way. I was so dissapointed and Jeanne could tell. She said "Maybe we could ride just up to USM and back". That was no conlsolation to me and I declined. It would only be a 10 minute ride, one way, and would involve traffic, traffic lights, and hills. It would just be a tease, and not a good one at that. I locked the bikes back up. I really wanted this ride, not only for the good feeling of well-being it gives us but also because without it I may not make my 100 mile goal for the week. Actually it is not a goal, it is a test goal to see if I want to set it for 2008. (See my blog at bentrider.info.) Jeanne said she was sorry she delayed the ride but I reassured her it needed to be done. However, I think I should buy two rubber chickens, one for each of us.

I have a lot of tools and I like having them. So! Please don’t ask to borrow them as I will be anxious until they are returned.

Despite having her own tools Jeanne asked me today if I knew where a hammer was (I bought her her own tools long ago because I don’t want mine scattered throughout the house). I replied that I did not know where HER hammer was but I knew where MINE was. In a very shy voice she asked if she could use it. I said I wanted it put back and she said that it would be; giving me a look that meant how could I even think otherwise. I told her where my hammer was and she ran off as happy as she could be; leaving me standing there with the feeling I had just made a very big mistake. I will now have to find somewhere else to hide, I mean "put", my hammer.

I look for Jeanne and find her in the bathroom:

Me: Where is my hammer?

Jeanne: I’m still using it.

OK, I return to our house guests Jim and Janis, i.e. long-time friends from Texas.

Later we all go out to dinner with other friends and have a great time. When we come home I don’t see the hammer in the kitchen so I check to see if she put it up: Uh-oh, not there.

Me: Where is my hammer?

She starts running toward the kitchen and I take off after her. She pauses at the kitchen bar, looks around, then:

Jeanne: I know where it is.

She dashes towards the dinning room but I catch her just before she reaches the table. I hold her hands, pinning her against my chest with one arm (felt good) while fishing the Casio out of my shirt pocket with the other and taking the picture, for evidence.

I release her; she grabs the hammer and heads for my tool closet, proving me wrong, i.e. that she would put the hammer back where it belongs.

Earlier, Jeanne said I could call and she would pick me up but I felt like walking and home is only 1 1/2 miles from work. So, as I said, when I started it was really nice and sunny; then the rain and it was still nice but nice and wet.

I could have ducked into a building and called Jeanne but didn’t; I was in too much of a hurry. All this was earlier last week when Jeanne was getting ready for a trip and I needed to go by the credit union on the way home and get her some trip-cash, and it was 10 minutes until 4:00 which is when I thought they closed and I had time to walk the 3 blocks but probably not enough time to call Jeanne and have her come pick me up and still get there by 4:00; which I did with a few minutes to spare. (breathe) The teller expressed concerned when she discovered me wet but I just smilled when I discovered they didn’t close until 4:30.

With cash in pocket and with it now raining even harder I decided it was time to call Jeanne. I asked to use a phone - it didn’t work - I asked to use another one. Jeanne would be right there. I waited out front under the overhang and the rain sounded good. The cars passing by, splashing by, sounded good. It was great to be alive and I felt good, wet but good. When she pulled in I paused before darting to a door. Good thing. She slid over to the passenger bucket seat so I went to the driver’s side. She does not like to drive, in town, with me in the car; on a trip, OK. She says I make “suggestions”. Just once in a while, maybe. Not every time. Really. She says she knows they are for her own good (but yet she elects to forego them). Do any of you out there know me. You can tell me the truth, do I tend to profess too much. I mean I am a professor but am I guilty of instruction without tuition?