Journal: A Funeral & A Christmas Program

 

Tuesday, at 2:00 p.m., we had Loren’s funeral.  Our great-nephew Michael Walker, son of my late nephew David, who is now Larry’s boss at Walker Foundations, gave Larry the entire day off with pay.  Because he and his brothers, and a few other great-nephews besides, call Larry ‘Uncle Larry’, most all the other employees do, too.

At the funeral, we sang three songs:  Sweet By and By, Some Golden Daybreak, and Saved By Grace.  We started singing those beautiful songs of heaven that I love so much, and there I was in the middle of a whole lot of family and friends who sing so prettily.  I could hear all the parts equally well:  soprano, alto, tenor, bass...  It was like being in the middle of the choir.  I’m thankful for people who love us.

Our pastor, my nephew Robert, gave a short message, and then we followed the hearse to the cemetery, where Robert read a few verses at the graveside.  We sat on folding chairs under the canopy, and the funeral director covered our legs with a warm woolen blanket, which was nice on that cold, windy day – it was 34° with a windchill of 26°.

Here is Loren’s obituary:  https://www.gasshaney.com/obituary/loren-swiney

Afterwards, we went back to the funeral home to collect all the flowers and plants.  I wondered what to do with them, since we needed to go to Omaha to collect Loren’s things.  I thought we could at least drop off a couple at Hester’s house, which was only a few blocks away. 

Hester then told us that we could leave all of the plants and flowers at her house – she has a sunny enclosed porch where she has quite a number of pretty plants – and she would ask her sisters and cousins if any of them would like a plant.

We thankfully carted them onto her porch.  Then she, upon learning that I had forgotten to eat breakfast, proceeded to give us Lärabar Fruit & Nut Bars and a couple of cookies fresh out of the oven, which, I told her, quite likely saved my life.  She handed us sealed sticks of sausage, and mixed up coffee lattes for each of us. 

She had beef-vegetable stew simmering away in her crockpot, in case we wanted to eat supper with them; but we couldn’t, sadly; we had to get going to Omaha, after a quick trip home to change clothes.  But she did tell us to stop by, on our way back through town, for the rolls that would soon be coming out of the oven.

We did – and then, as we drove away, we broke our sausage sticks in half and tucked them into the dinner rolls along with pieces of string cheese, and had ourselves yummy little sandwiches.

We stopped in Schuyler, and Larry got me a Celsius drink, and himself some hard-boiled eggs (he offered me some, but I was full).  It made for a good lunch that sustained us nicely.

Victoria, as Victorias are wont to do during trying or sad times, sent a picture of one of the children – Willie, this time, standing at their coffee table looking at a book.  He was still wearing the cute little shirt he had on under a dark jacket at the funeral.

At Prairie Meadows, we gathered up Loren’s things.  We collected clothes, pictures, a few books, and the chair and ottoman we put in his room almost three years ago.  The nightstand that had once been in his bedroom at home wouldn’t fit in our vehicle, though; so we left it; they can do whatever they want with it.  Sounds like they’ll pitch it, which is stupid, since it’s every bit as nice as their own furniture; but I’m not going to worry about it.  Some of his new clothes were missing – probably in the wash; and the watch we gave him for Christmas last year had gone AWOL, but they did find one that he’d lost nearly two years ago!

One of the nurses, looking for the newer watch, found the older one in the Lost & Found.  Thinking it was one she’d seen on his wrist a while back, she brought it to us.  Yep, it was his.

We got him the newer one last Christmas, because he kept looking for the lost one (even though he still had another one on one wrist).  He went to the home with two – one on each wrist – and he wore them like that for at least a year.

He’d try to get the time synchronized; but that was hard to do, what with the battery flat on one.  😆  I had a jeweler put a battery in it (we couldn’t get the thing open, ourselves), and the jewelry store charged an arm and a leg for the operation.

After that, I thought I’d just let him wear them with flat batteries.  He kept changing the time constantly anyway!

Leaving Prairie Meadows, we decided we weren’t hungry enough for a full-fledged supper; so we picked up some yogurt parfaits and caffè mochas at Starbucks.  Larry had a gift certificate from his brother; but, after a good deal of effort would not get the thing to open on his phone, he gave up and forked over the cash for our things.  (Remind me to look at that email of his!  Betcha there’s just one little thing he didn’t click on...)  We sat down at a table – and one of the baristas apologetically informed us they were closing – in fact, they were already closed.

So we apologized, too, gathered up our stuff, and exited Stage Left.  The parfaits and caffè mochas tasted just as good in the Mercedes as they would’ve in the café.

Hester then surprised me by texting to say that the plants and flowers were all delivered!  The red poinsettias had gone to a couple of cousins; and, as I had requested, the blue poinsettia went to daughter-in-law Maria.  This, because little Eva had taken special note of the pretty blue leaves (did you know that a poinsettia blossom is made up of not petals, but leaves?), with sparkles all over them.  Hester kept a large Norfolk Island pine that was given by her in-laws.

Amy wrote to thank me for the plant she’d received – she chose a Schefflera plant – and sent pictures of thin wood squares she was staining for Christmas gifts for Elsie’s and Warren’s classmates.  Her sister-in-law had put the names on the wood with a laser engraver.  Amy had one more coat of stain to apply to these, and when it dried, she would glue Lego plates onto the wood bases.  They are for building Lego creations on.  (The ‘Caleb’ whose name is on that wooden square is ten years old; it’s not our Caleb.)

Speaking of our Caleb, he, like Victoria, will sometimes send me a picture or two of his little girls when he knows a day has been a trying one.  That evening, he sent a picture of Eva with a gingerbread house she helped make.

I wrote back, “Tell her Grandma says her gingerbread house looks yummy and scrumptious and delicious, and she looks very pretty, and Grandma says, ‘I love you!’”

I filled the bird feeders Wednesday morning for the first time in several days.  The birds, having given up on me, did not find their lunch for a good half hour.

I began washing Loren’s clothes that we’d picked up at Prairie Meadows.  A few of the shirts are still brand-new; he never wore some of the new clothes I got him recently.  Either Larry or perhaps a grandson or two will be able to use them.  I have several large bags to take to the Goodwill.

Wondering if Maria liked sparkly blue poinsettias as much as her little daughter does, I sent her a text:  “I hope that blue poinsettia wasn’t your least favorite of all the flowers! – but Eva noticed it, and was impressed with its color and all the sparkles on the leaves; so I kinda wanted to give it to her... which means, of course, you wind up with it by association. 😆😅”

Maria immediately assured me, “No, we put it in our dining room, and it matches.  Thank you; Eva was very happy about it.  😊”

“Okay, good,” I answered.  “She’s such a sweetie.  She loved that waterfall in the corner of the visitation room, especially when she realized there were big river rocks in the base; and then even more so when she saw that the lights changed color and caused the water to look like it was turning colors!  She was naming all the colors, and she had every single one right, too.

“I told her that there was a great big waterfall like that in a big building in Omaha, and if you were standing too close, you could feel the spray from the water!  She looked at me, considering that information for a moment or two – and then promptly stepped forward, no doubt hoping to feel spray from that little waterfall.  😄”

“That’s funny, 😊” responded Maria.

I paid a few bills, then began writing thank-you notes.  Since there weren’t too awfully many to write, I just did them by hand – and now I’m sorry I didn’t do them by computer and printer as I usually do, because I have no record of them, of course, and I keep wondering, Did I or didn’t I give this one or that one a thank-you note?!  But... I had taken pictures of all the plants and flowers, noted the memorial donations, and then just worked my way straight through them, one after another.  I think I got everybody.  I hope I got everybody.  😬 😏

We were issued a wind advisory that afternoon.  I read it, looked out the window – and not a solitary frond or even a tickleweed was so much as twitching.

The warning itself was accurate enough – but they’d left out a starting time.  The wind would kick in the following morning, and increase throughout the next day.

Along about 5:30 that afternoon, I heard the sound of geese.  I looked out – and it was still just light enough to see that there were hundreds – thousands, more like – of Canada geese flying over.

I doled out some thank-you notes at church that evening; the remainder, I would tuck into people’s Christmas cards.

At noon on Thursday, it was sunny and 53° – with a windchill of just 39° on account of a steady wind at 31 mph, with frequent gusts around 60 mph!  One nearby gust was clocked at 66 mph.  The heavy package-receptacle bin on our front porch had been blown to the other end of the porch.  I wonder if the meteorologist who wrote this on one of my weather apps intended to be funny?  ’Cuz it is funny:  “Strong breeze (25 - 31 mph sustained, high gusts).  Large branches in motion; whistling heard in telegraph wires; umbrellas used with difficulty.”  hee hee

I went on washing the clothes we’d brought home from Prairie Meadows, and wrapped some Christmas gifts that had arrived.  I may have to buy a few more odds and ends locally, since some of the items I ordered online seem to be hung up in Guangzhou, China.  I didn’t intend to order stuff from China! – forgot to check that.  Ooooo... I just found a new tracking notification! – “Arrived at departure transport hub.”  Maybe I’ll wait a couple more days before I replace those items.  Maybe.

Here’s a line I read in an online obituary that day:  “He was so proud of himself after getting baptized about five years ago.”  That’s... not right.  🙄

There was a crashity-bang-thump – and the large bin was now OFF the porch.  The wind was howling.

I needed to mail some things, but I decided to stay put that day and worry about going to town on Friday, when the wind wouldn’t be blowing nearly so hard.  There was still time, hopefully, for Christmas gifts to get to people before Christmas, even if I waited until the next day.  Otherwise... well, I guess they’ll be late!

By suppertime, I’d wrapped the rest of the presents, packed up a box of gifts for Dorcas and her family, who live near Blaine, Tennessee, and a box for Loren’s sons who live near Dallas with his watches, rings, tie clasps, a money clip, and a 1953 yearbook from Prairie Bible Institute in Canada, where Loren attended from age 14 to 16.  I put the last load of clothes into the dryer.  When they were dry, all of Loren’s clothes would be washed.

I loved him, and I will miss him.  I was always delighted, when I was in school, if I walked out the door at the end of the day and found my brother waiting to take me home – on his motorcycle!

For dessert that night, I ate the last Chobani Flip S’mores yogurt that we got by accident with that erroneous grocery order a couple of weeks ago.

I’ve been using the wrong-order Downy scent beads in the washer, too.  I’m going to be getting them on purpose from now on! – they make the clothes smell really good.

There were a number of grass fires across the area that day, and the winds were still ferocious by evening.  This picture was taken near Broken Bow, in the Sandhills.

By 9:00 p.m., all the clothes from Prairie Meadows were washed and sorted, and I’d carried three big bags of things out to the car to take to the Goodwill.  I underestimated the wind and the cold, and I really needed some rocks in my pockets!  Those big bags worked exactly like sails.  😅  I decided the last two bags could wait until the next day.

I retired to my recliner, and proceeded to fritter away a good 15 minutes of my life watching fainting goats, spitting llamas, and a beautiful (but bossy) rooster who grabbed the sleeve of his owner with his beak and hauled her hand back to continue petting him every time she stopped and pulled her hand away.  Just think, God created these creatures for us – and to proclaim His glory, of course – and some of them don’t serve much more of a purpose than to be simply for our entertainment and enjoyment!

Candle lantern from friends

Friday, although it was only 20°, the ‘feel-like’ temperature was actually 28°, as the sun was shining and the wind was only at 5 mph.  I cleaned the bathroom, then the kitchen, got ready to go to the post office, and hoped my eyes would behave long enough for me to get safely to town and home again.  😵‍💫🥴

I wore my sunglasses with the medium-brown lenses into the bright post office, and no one knew (I hope) that behind them, I looked a lot like a toad frog in a hailstorm.

I tried dropping off some things at the Salvation Army, but they are not accepting donations ‘at this time’; so I took those things to the Goodwill instead.  The ‘Low Fuel’ light came on, so I put gas in the car, and managed to come back home without my eyes snapping shut for any great length of time.  If I have music on and sing while driving, it helps immensely, because the same malfunctioning nerve that wreaks havoc with the eyelid muscles also controls many of the facial muscles one uses whilst singing.  Redirecting that nerve definitely helps.

BUT!!! – here’s one of the most dismaying things that can happen, ever:  I get home, put sunglasses back in case and put on regular glasses (when I don’t forget, and then wonder why the house is so dark), grab my purse from the passenger seat – and suddenly notice my thermal mug of coffee in the holder, still plumb full – and I’ve just spent an hour in town running errands without taking so much as one solitary sip of that scrumptious, Autumn Spice coffee from Christopher Bean.

Ah, well.  I would sip it now!

Next, though I thought it unnecessary, I called the Social Security office to report Loren’s death (mostly because Larry told me horror stories about people who got in loads of trouble for letting Social Security checks keep coming).  After being on hold for 20-25 minutes, someone finally came on the line.  I explained the purpose of my call.  She proceeded to ask for my full name, my Social Security number, date of birth, the city where I was born, and my mother’s maiden name.  Next, she went through the entire rigmarole again with Loren’s information.

As soon as that was done, she casually informed me, “Oh, yes, the funeral home gave us this information.”

Right.  I knew that.  I’d made better use of my time the night before with the spitting llamas.  Is it any wonder they spit?!

I called Loren’s bank to ask if they could stop any incoming auto-payment requests; but, as I suspected, that can’t be done until they see a death certificate.

I was quite done spinning my wheels (literally and figuratively, both), and quite ready to get to work in my quilting studio.  I grabbed my unsipped (should be a word) coffee and headed upstairs to work on Levi’s quilt.

That evening, Victoria sent this old and funny picture of Carolyn and Violet, when they were just babies.

“That really is the most hilarious picture,” I told her.

“Nothing has changed a bit,” she responded.

I offered a caption: 

Carolyn:  “What’s with you, Violet?”

Violet: “Everything’s nuts!”

“😂  Exactly that,” laughed Victoria.

Some time that day, a tooth broke off of Larry’s upper denture – the same tooth that has broken before.  Larry got a repair kit from Walgreens, and that night after he got home from work, he stirred up that noxious glue right at the table.  It was freezing cold outside, but I was opening windows, turning on fans... and wondering how a person can put stuff like that into his mouth, and not be poisoned.  (Well, of course one is required to let it dry and set, before replacing the dentures into one’s mouth.)

While eating supper, I heard something beeping, and headed off to find out what it was. 

It was my iron, beeping continuously.  Pressing buttons and moving it around didn’t help.  I unplugged it... waited a bit... plugged it back in...  That didn’t help, either.  It said, “ERR1” on the display.  It would not heat up.  And it would not stop beeping.

I put it away and got out the old Rowenta.  It heats, but the buttons are all sticky, and it hasn’t steamed or sprayed for years.  I therefore used a spray bottle to dampen seams I needed to press.  This does not make me pleased.  I need steam, and lots of it!

I found an online manual for the PurSteam iron and looked up “ERR1”. 

“Your iron will need to be seen by a professional,” the manual informed me.

Accordingly, I sent an email to PurSteam, telling them of the problem.

It seemed odd Saturday, not getting ready to go visit Loren.  I loved him, dementia and all.  Instead, I sewed.

And I got a return email from PurSteam:  “I am sorry you are having trouble with your iron,” it read.  “No worries, I would be happy to help you out!”

This set of instructions followed – instructions for an iron that is working quite fine:

 

The unit keeps beeping when the auto shut-off is turned on.  Simply move the iron or gently shake it for the beeping to stop.

 

Under the below circumstances, the iron will beep:

1.         When you plug in

2.         When it is auto shut off

3.         When it is placed flat for over 30s

4.         When it is placed vertically for 8 mins

5.         When iron drops temp during ironing and then reaches set temp after re-heat

 

If the issue persists, please send us the unit's Batch number (B/N) and date code on the sticker label attached to it. You can also take a photo if it's easier for you.

 

Have a wonderful day!

 

Warm Regards,

 

Beth

Customer Support

 

Doesn’t anybody know how to read (or write) anymore?!  Did she really think I’d used that iron all these months, and didn’t know how it worked?!!

I wrote back, trying hard to be polite, “The requested code is attached.  Perhaps you missed my statement that the readout on the display is ‘ERR1’?

“Thank you for your assistance.”

 

If you only knew how hard I was working at being polite.  😠

Meanwhile, I ordered a not-too-terribly expensive Black & Decker iron from Walmart.  The one I picked was not in stock, and would have to be shipped.  I need an iron that steams vertically as well as horizontally.

“So you can iron lying down? 🤔” asked Larry.

“So I can steam things on hangers, or on my quilt frame!” I retorted.

>>... ... ... pause ... ... ...<<

Actually, I ordered this one just because it’s pink.  Don’t tell anybody.

It was the shortest day of the year that day.  From now on until June, the days will be lengthening.  It was 36° at noon, but the windchill was 17°.

As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, this quilt I’m making – or remaking – for Levi is one his other grandmother started before she passed away in August of 2023.  Step 1 was to disassemble it.  Step 2 was to square up the blocks and add some shadow-sashing. 

Step 3 will be to make a bunch of little 5" pine-tree blocks (the pine tree below is one I drew in EQ8).

For supper, we had spiral ham, corn, Chobani yogurt, and Cranberry-grape juice; with apple crumb pie for dessert.

We got our Christmas cards put into the correct sacks after yesterday’s morning church service.  Larry fixed waffles for lunch.  It got up to 52° that day.

Our Christmas program was that evening.  All the school children from K-12 participated, including many of our grandchildren.

It started with the brass ensemble playing Christmas songs; then the congregation joined in on their final song.  We sang a couple more, and then the choir sang Star of the East.  Robert gave a message on the Christmas story, we sang Joy to the World, and then two of my great-nieces, Lynette and Sarah Kay, played a beautiful rendition of O Holy Night on viola and violin.  After this was a medley by the string instruments, a brass duet, and then the children’s program, with verses recited and Christmas songs sung.

When the program was over, the young people passed out those sacks full of Christmas cards to everyone, and some of the men passed out sacks of fruit, nuts, and candy bars.

When we got home, we had some Campbell’s Roast Beef & Potato soup and the last slices of apple crumb pie, and then I ensconced myself in my recliner and looked at all the cards and photos our friends and family had given us.

Hannah wrote to tell me of their Australian shepherd Chimera’s latest caper.  “He is now using the [talking communication] buttons,” she said.  (Their other dog, Willow, has been using them for some time; Chimera didn’t seem to see the advantage – or didn’t want to go to the trouble.)  “He’s way more insistent than Willow,” she added.

He pressed the button that says, “What do you want?” three times in a row.  They asked him back the same question, trying to guess what could be on his mind.  Hannah figured it out when she remembered that their leftover food was still out on the stove.

“I told him I’d put the food away later,” she continued.  “He pressed ‘now’ and ‘yes’.”

Hee hee  Those dogs are so smart and funny!

I refilled the bird feeders this morning, and before I was even done, goldfinches were lighting on filled feeders.  In the wintertime, I often cannot tell the males from the females.

>>...peeking out the window...<<  Oops, a few saw me and flitted off; but right this minute, from one feeder to another, there are 3, 3, 2, 3, and 2 goldfinches on the feeders.  There are Eurasian collared doves and mourning doves on the ground one story down, dining on seed the little birds drop and spill.   The blue jays (waiting out in the trees, a bit more leery than the little birds after my foray out onto the deck – do they think I make blue-jay pie for supper?!) dine from feeders and ground spill – and anything else that strikes their fancy.  I hear English sparrows out in the firs; they’ll pop in now and then, and the bright cardinals will join them.

The juncos have returned from the north, and they’ve learned to sit on the perches of the nyjer-seed feeder, though they’re considerably more awkward at it than the goldfinches or the house finches.  The house finches will come flying in after a bit, no doubt; they arrive en masse, and don’t mind sharing a feeder with the squirrels.  Every once in a while through the day, I hear the tell-tale metallic chirp of a downy woodpecker, and peak out to find one on the suet feeder.  For the last month, a white-breasted nuthatch has been joining him.  Sometimes the smaller red-breasted nuthatches show up, too.  There are Northern flickers in the yard, pounding furiously into the ground to pull up seeds and winter-dried fruits.  They even gobble down poison ivy and oak berries!  They like hibernating ants and larvae, too.

Sometimes I hear the high-pitched cry of a red-tailed hawk, and then all the little songbirds make themselves scarce and go very quiet.  

Friday as I was driving home from town, a pair of mute swans flew directly over the road, soaring and then landing in a harvested cornfield.  (Photo is from Media Storehouse.)

Last night as we headed off to our Christmas program at church, we heard Canada geese overhead, though it was too dark to see them.  I haven’t seen the snow geese yet; they’re usually a little later than the Canadas.

Sometimes I hear other kinds of sparrows – field, song, grasshopper – but they’re usually too far afield to see.  There are bobwhite quail along the fence rows now and then, and the occasional bald eagle will soar over, though they’re usually closer to the lakes and nearby river.  Red-bellied and hairy woodpeckers make an appearance at the suet feeder, but a bit rarer than the little downy, though I hear them in the maple trees.  Out in the fields, I hear and sometimes see the dickcissel, usually perched on the tallest weed he can find.

Oh!  The blue jays are at the feeders now!  They like to shriek as they come swooping in; I think they like to see the smaller birds scatter like confetti, the big bullies.  😅

The eastern and western kingbirds, whose territories overlap right here where we live, along with the barn swallows and the purple martins and the yellow-rumped warblers, have already migrated south; we won’t see them again until March or April.  There are more – ducks, grosbeaks, tanagers, grackles, starlings, blackbirds, meadowlarks – some migrate, some don’t.

Last night I heard a Great Horned owl, with its low-pitched “Whooooo-hoo-hoo!”  There are barn owls around, too; they sound all screechy and squeaky, by comparison.

The Black & Decker iron arrived earlier today, as promised.  But... it isn’t pink at all!  It’s mauve.

Boo, hiss.

However, it does have an almost-redeeming feature:  All the clear plastic pieces have pink sparkles embedded in them.  So there’s that.  Sparkles are of value!  Just ask Eva.

I asked Larry to bring home a few groceries and some eggnog (not the kind with alcohol) when he gets off work.  I love eggnog.

Speaking of alcohol... Here’s the story of my one and only experience with it:

The closest I’ve ever come to alcohol was the time when I was three years old and found a six-pack out in front of our house, sitting there on the then-graveled street in the sun on a hot summer’s day.

What in the world, I wondered.  (That may have been the first time I ever saw a beverage in a can; dunno.)  I pulled a tab.

Spszzzzzzztttttttwhooooooshhhh!  It sprayed all over me.

My word, I thought.  Do they always do that?  I pulled another tab.

Spszzzzzzztttttttwhooooooshhhh!  That one sprayed all over me, too.

I headed for the house at a trot to tell my mother of those strangely behaving things out there.

I did not get a word out edgeways before my ladylike, gentle mother made a terrible face and exclaimed, “Oh, pewwww, oh, my goodness, what have you gotten into??!” and before I could answer, she swooped me up, rushed for the bathroom, and threw me into the tub, clothes and all.  She started the water, grabbed a small pitcher, and began dumping water over me, exclaiming over the stench all the while.

I had never been so insulted in my whole life, and certainly never by my mother.  (And she was probably astonished that her most-fastidious small daughter would ever get herself in such a predicament.)

After a bit, she removed my sopping wet clothes and rushed off to the washing machine with them, then scurried back and gave me the scrubbing of my life, exclaiming and remonstrating the entire time.

And that’s my one-and-only alcohol over-indulgence story.

For supper tonight, I cooked chicken in the Instant Pot, and had mixed vegetables (corn, peas, carrots, green beans) and applesauce with it, along with cranberry juice.

Now, for dessert, I’m going to have a caramel nut bar one of my friends gave me for Christmas.  I have a fresh cup of Gingerbread Crème Brûlée coffee, too. 

That last box of Christmas gifts has not yet arrived.  I reckon it’s one of Murphy’s Laws that one of the hubs my packages are coming through will be struck by those Amazon strikers!

Tomorrow I’m going to put pictures my sister would like (I have hundreds of pictures of her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and I’ll add in pictures of our ancestors, too) on this big digital frame I set up for Loren, and give it to her.

It came from China with no instructions, but could supposedly handle 30 GB of photos.

Well, after I loaded umpteen bajillion photos, I discovered it could not handle that many – at least not all in one big lump.  It could handle folders, though – with 84 photos and not a single more in each folder.

Soooo... I had hundreds of folders on the card that I put in the frame, with 84 photos in each.  However, it wouldn’t automatically and/or randomly switch from folder to folder; one has to use the little remote that came with it to switch to different folders.

And I can tell you without a doubt that nary a single nurse or aid would’ve ever picked up the remote and changed folders.  So whatever folder it was on when I took that frame to Prairie Meadows is what folder it stayed on, throughout these nearly three years Loren was there.

Fortunately, by the time it got to the 84^th picture, Loren would’ve forgotten the first one; so when it started over, he was never the wiser, and he was happy as a lark looking at those same 84 pictures, over and over again!

Last Tuesday, I was totally amazed to 1) find the box for the frame in his closet, and 2) to find the remote still in the box, unlost.

Lura Kay’s offspring will certainly be quite capable of using that remote to change folders for her.  😊

“Those Chinese knockoffs can be frustrating,” agreed Keith when I told him this story.  “They don’t put instructions in the box because they imitated a name brand, and they don’t know how to use it themselves.  😏”

“Nor do they know how to write instructions in readable English!” I added.

Levi recently sent me this:

 

Warning:

1.         Avoid the metal and water coming into the usb charger, Or’ll make a fire.  To avoid the short circuit, only work in dry environment.

2.         Don’t touch the charger directly when it’s working as it would be a little hot.

3.         Stop using the charger when damaged.

4.         Plug off when not working.

5.         Output:  DC 5V

 

And yes, the whatever-it-was was made in China.

Wow, Mighty Text just gave me a little Christmas-tree button to click on... I did (I always click on all clickable buttons) (heh)... and the messages all turned red and green, a Christmas scene showed up, and snowflakes fell all over my screen!  I feel so... Christmasy now.

I generally use Google Messages on my laptop, because the free version of Mighty Text (for laptop or computer) only allows 15 messages per month.  Fifteen per month!!!  I can send 15 messages in less than a minute.

Oh!  Look at the email I just got:

Dear Sarah,

Thank you for providing us with the order details!

For your question about the Err1 it is an internal malfunction and per our engineering team, the unit needs a replacement.

Since you are covered with a 1-year warranty, I would be more than happy to send you a brand new replacement unit without you having to return anything back to us.

If that is acceptable, please provide us with your shipping address and I will take care of you ASAP.

Hoping to hear from you soon.

Warm Regards,

Laurence
Customer Support

It seems that Laurence has considerably better reading comprehension skills than Beth.  Or maybe he actually knows about the irons at the company for which he works, and understands what the display screen is describing.

This time, I didn’t have to try so hard to be nice.  In fact, it was actually in my heart.  My response:

 

That is more than acceptable, and I very much appreciate it.  I’m really missing my iron!  I loved it.

Here is my address:

Sarah Lynn Jackson

123456 78^th St.

Columbus, NE

Thank you so much.

,,,>^..^<,,,     Sarah Lynn     ,,,>^..^<,,,

 

Just think, if the Black & Decker doesn’t go kaput before the new PurSteam gets here, there’s a real possibility (gasp) that I could have two working irons at the same time!  ((swoon))

A nurse from Prairie Meadows called to say they had found Loren’s newest watch.  They will look for the sweatpants that were probably in the wash when we were there Tuesday, and we’ll pick these things up in two or three weeks.  I wonder if they’ll still have the rest of the Ensure drinks I had delivered there?

And now I shall plug off!  >>snerk<<

,,,>^..^<,,,          Sarah Lynn          ,,,>^..^<,,,