On posting at my second favorite haunt

I am beginning to think that someone is trying to tell me something over at my second favorite haunt. I've tried posting an approval for 2 family members. For the fourth time in the past 10 days, I've had to review and approve their claim to be members of my family.

On the other hand, could it be that with the issue of enrollment popping up, someone doubts that we're related? How could that be? I've spent the last 8 years documenting that very issue. That's the problem nowadays. One has to have things in writing for a valid claim legally. Then again, one has to doubt that very same legality all because some clerk has made an error and refuses to own up to it.

A clerk dropped one letter in my name and I never knew I was misspelling my name for 16 years until the day my father corrected the clerk when I applied for my driver's license. However, that very same error followed me for the next 20 years. Until the day I asked a clerk down to the capital about what it would take to fix that error. Now, it's fine and dandy until....I discovered that in the aftermath of delivering my sons, a mistake was entered on their birth certificates which wasn't caught for 31 years. Now, to correct that, I have to pay $40 per, go to court, wait for comparisons and get the corrections. On the other hand {I'm fast running out of hands, maybe I'll use my fingers, then on to my toes,} I mentioned earlier that I had finally gotten my birth snafu straight?

Well, I found out that a more serious error had been entered on my birth certificate when it was transferred to the handy dandy new system. I now have a totally new father due to transposition of letters in his name. I've yet to tell my father about this error. Can you imagine what...I can see it now. Fourth of July fireworks would pale beside those over his house. Correcting that may or may not cost me depending on what the comparisons show between those certificates. However, that brings into question, my siblings bc's.

All I can say about those snafu's are that we'd better get them corrected while we can. Else I can see us bringing into court dozens of papers, boxes of newsclippings and what have you just to prove that my father's name was misspelled. And I'd still have the problem of my name being misspelled. Jiminy Cricket, where are you?

Maybe it's due to the above mentioned snafu's that my second favorite haunt doesn't believe me when I approve my family members request to be listed as family. Oh good grief, I just thought of something. Did I ... enter ... the T w i l i g h t Z o n e?

Will Mulder and Scully be contacting me?

Did I book passage on the Enterprise and get transported to a galaxy far, far away?...Will I....

Father's post for the week

advice from one who loves you.

Never work before breakfast. If you have to work before breakfast eat your breakfast first.

Father

Fathers who should know better.

My father and I sat and had a long talk about the business yesterday. Interesting.

Me: Well.

Father: {shrugs his shoulders while trying to hide a grin.}

Me: {tapping my foot}

Me: {drumming my fingers on the table}

Father: {puts palms up in the air, shakes his head, then hides his mouth with one hand.}

I gave an exasperated sigh, shook my head and left the room before he could see the twinkle in my eyes.

That's the extent of the conversation we had about the 'guest post'. He followed me into the kitchen and told me I write good. Told my sister I'm a chip off the old block. As if that will excuse any more pranks he has up his sleeve. Somehow, I'd forgotten just where my sister gets her sense of humor. I failed to foresee this possibility.

I've been working on some guidelines for him. Today, he told me that he'd come up with something for me. Huuuuh, I don't know. I don't think I will announce when he is guest blogging anymore. I'll just post it after I see it. That way, if I get two or three solved crytograms as his post, I can leave it on my computer. Sometimes, it's hard to keep one step ahead of him, and come to think of it, my sister. I grew up with gullible written on my forehead.

I am the oldest, hence I shouldn't be falling for these little pranks of theirs. I may have posted on this very subject before, somewhere, somewhen. I keep telling myself, "I won't fall for their tricks again." A week, two weeks, sometimes a month goes by. Wham. There goes Millie's forehead again. Gullible must be painted in neon colors and it just gets to be too much for them to resist.

That's the only explanation I can think of. The younger ones also do this on a smaller scale. So far, I've managed to discourage them at least. Now, they all know how to read. It might get to be a tad difficult to keep their shenanigans in check.

I will see if my father is sufficiently recovered from his bout of laughter over the past day or so. Maybe I will get a decent blog post from him. I should strike while the guilt is thick. Yes, that is exactly what I'll do. {leaving to get a pack of the 'you know what' while the getting is good.}

Thunderstorms

It's great to hear the thunder. It's still off in the distance. I am glad for the rain. It's been dry here. Yesterday, went for a walk with my sisters. Could have used some of the cool then. After the walk, I was sitting on the porch having my daily "habit that most of the world thinks I should quit" and the wind had changed from south to north. Yay. I hoped most of the lightening would happen while I was sleeping.

I like to listen to thunder. Just not for hours upon hours. That's when I think the Spirits might be getting angry because no one is listening to them. I like to watch the lightening, from a distance. Up close is very heart pounding sort of stuff. I don't want the Spirits to think I am defying them. No, no, no. It's the first displays that I have the greatest appreciation for.

Gentle rain is fine for a day or so. The sound of the rain is peaceful and I can go to sleep listening to that sound. Not Thunderstorms. They make me want to do something. Problem is I don't always know what.

The restless nature of storms highlight my restless nature. That may be why I want to have a blanket handy. Hiding from the storm, from the call of the Thunder Spirit because I'm not doing what I need to be doing. Dreading the lightening because I don't want the stark view of my environment.

Storms don't happen very often. A good thing from my point of view. Looking for the imbalance in myself is scary. Figuring out who, what, where, when and why is not an easy thing. When I do those things, and get a little more in balance, the next storm isn't as scary. In fact, the next few are ones I revel in. I can sit and watch through most of the storm. Sleep sometimes needs to be attended to but I don't huddle under the blankets trying to will myself to sleep.

Sometimes, I have to drive through a storm. Then, it's concentrate, focus, find the right speed to navigate the wet roads. Try to decide if I should slow down, speed up, stop altogether. Try to loosen my grip on the wheel so I can feel the slight changes in the tires. Try to gauge if the wind is changing direction. Sometimes, lightening flashes interfere with my vision. Other times, they startle me and I just know the thunder is going to crash and rattle my eardrums.

When I arrive at my destination, it's great to know I did it. At those times, I feel a greater kinship with the Thunder Spirits. Yes! It's great to be alive. It's great to hear the thunder.

Transitions [or check your emails.]

Once again the day is filled with sunshine.  Today is much more relaxed from yesterday.  I was in the middle of checking out blogs to follow again.  Lo and behold.  A screen telling me a company had taken over my blog.  


What?  


Tried to get into my website.  Nothing doing.  Password wasn't working.  Tried to get into my email.  Then went to my domain host.  Yep.  My domains are still mine.  Then, spent a frantic few minutes trying to find my sign in page again.  Password reset or not?  Maybe I just read the screen wrong.


Now, I couldn't  get into the password reset email because I wasn't able to get into that either.  Time to ponder the situation.  Not much time for this though.  Sometimes It's a race against time to regain control of your accounts.  


After a couple minutes thought, I checked my domain's settings.  I had kept a copy of the mumbo jumbo that sets up the records.  Yay, those checked.  Went back to the signin page.  Couldn't sign in.  What the heck is going on?  


Had to do some searching to try find my sign in page again. {it's bookmarked now.}  More frantic moments.  "This domain for sale" sent me back to my domain registrar.  Upon signing in, I find out that if you have your heart set on a certain domain, the registrar will broker for you and try to get the domain.  For a price of course.  Well.  Now what?


A few minutes calm deliberation provided success.  Remembered I had bookmarked the page. Sigh of relief, then a deep breath again.  I got into the website.  It is somewhat different.  


Checked my email for the latest news.  A warning at 10 ((or thereabouts) that site was being transitioned in a few hours time.  Then, just a few seconds before my account went nutty, an email "Site is being transitioned now.  Please advise your users...."  


A search of the site's help center showed me everything that I had been warned to do a month ago.  I  didn't understand what they meant at the time.  Now, of course, I do know.  From frantic, breathholding, click, click what? click click drats.  


Spent the next couple hours resetting everything, going about fulfilling the instructions that are now helpfully provided.  So, now I have a blog set apart from my website because my own company had taken over my own website's blog.

Minions of the Darkside

Raving and ranting.  Ranting and raving.  The darker emotions of life.  Images are not pretty, might be gruesome even.  Frustrating, irksome, impatient.  What, what's that you're asking?  Why am I blathering on about the dark side of life?  I have succumbed to the Darkside.  


Woke up this morning feeling chipper, maybe even happy.  Had my morning coffee and cigarette.  Proceeded to eat the very last frybread slathered with peanut butter.  Logged on to my usual early morning haunt, then proceeded to my next stop.  Didn't have the least bit of suspicion that the Darkside was lurking, eyeballing me as I happily proceeded to check out my Cafe.  


The dishes were bubbling merrily away, customers were happily eating, food and drink was being consumed at a phenomenal rate.  Buzz rating was going up.  Neighbors were very generous with their taste temptations and provided me with a lot of what I needed.  The catering order was proceeding nicely.  Very few popups to spoil my advance towards the completion of my goals.  Then the Darkside struck.


The total number of dishes served was correct for me.  Alas, not for my catering buddies.  I charged righteously towards Customer Support, only to find the support had dropped down the black hole of despair.  In haste, I scrambled to the Forums.  Lo and behold, everyone was having the same problems.  {Not everyone, just the vocal minority, of which I am a member, particularly when money is involved}  This is where I discovered I was not dealing with the Darkside's minions.  The Creme de la Fraidy was present in many of the smaller caverns located within the spiraling galaxy of "the Forums."  Between the black hole and the entrance to the Cave of Demented Discussions, I had veered off the path of righteousness onto the Path of ...the Darkside.  


Once I realized that the upper echelons of the dreaded Darkside were circulating their nefarious instruments of doom, gloom and despair, I backpedaled to the beginning of this travesty of justice.  There I found that I had made a slight miscalculation when I charged off so recklessly.  The newest of the new, the latest of the late, the best of the Quest had been released sometime on this day of travails and it is that which sent me on my rants and raves, my rapid descent into the Darkside.  


Thoughts of the grand prize awaiting the one who finished the 11 day quest were heady ones at first.  Then I realized I'd be competing against millions.  Millions, I tell you, who are, even as we speak, outpacing me with lightspeed grace and agility.  Now, I'm sliding into a mournful morass of ...Wait, there...could it be?  Captain Superstove.  He will help me regain the advantage so carelessly tossed aside when I spotted the Tally-eating minion of the Darkside.

Relaxation sure helps knock stress levels down.

Today is a new day.  It's been raining, sprinkling off and on.  It's a great help for keeping the area wet.  I looked at a news article about the wildfire in Arizona threatening some ancient sites.  I'm not following the news all that consistently.  Checking out headlines can get me off on a tangent that keeps me from doing what I need to do.  

I chillaxed yesterday afternoon.  Watched TV, cooked a fast supper, made some inroads on a project I need to have finished by tomorrow.  Tried to get the portions on my plate to easily finished sizes.  Trouble is sometimes the number of dishes presented for consumption make it hard to decide what to take and what to leave.  


Well, relaxed too much, methinks.  Here it is the 18th already.  Started my blog, then had to work on the beading project that landed in my lap.  Got one feather done.  Started on the other one.  Now I need to finish that one before 1100 because the powwow grand entry is around 1300.  That gives just enough time to get there from here.


Turned muggy for a couple hours today.  Hope it stays nice this weekend.  Dancing in wet moccasins: not my idea of fun.  On the other hand, dancing when it's muggy isn't fun either.  The only fun thing when that happens is getting to visit with family and friends.  Eating fry bread and wild rice.  Watching the dancers, specially when they dance for fun, for the sheer joy of dancing.  Then it's fun to watch, then checking to see who misses the last beat.  Hah.


It's great when the singers try to outfox the dancers.  There are quite a few dancers who miss.  I rarely miss.  Then made the mistake of telling one singer that it's something in their voices that signals the end.  Missed a couple more times.  Now I look for the signal they use.  Ahhh.  Fantastic sights and sounds, groans from those who miss, smirks from those who don't, congratulatory smiles and heads nodding.  Yes.


Sitting around the table when we eat is an occasion for teasing, laughter and more visiting.  Sometimes, a new relative is discovered.  New relative...long lost isn't quite it either because they've always known where they're at.  Can't think of the word.


Ahh.  Coming home from powwows was relaxing, even with a long drive.  The sound of the drum stayed with for most of the trip home, or until I fell asleep.  Carry those memories with me to this day.