Something different

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Ever get that nagging feeling like you just want something different? Like, you don’t know what exactly but everything feels like if you could just do something, have something, something different than what you are doing or have now that things would feel better?

Nagging.

I just have this feeling.

Unsettled about something. I feel like I need a change, for something different that whatever is going on in my life right now. I don’t know.

Stagnation at work? Home life just not cool? The weather getting nice and I am stuck inside all the time? *shoulder shrug*

Can’t put my finger on it. Can’t wrap my head around it.

I just feel it.

Washer dryer

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

Laundry for most is a chore, one that needs to be done (typically) once a week. Most people hate it. I am most people. That being said, there is another laundry task that is hated even more than washing the clothes you wear each week….washing the sheets on the bed.

Now, I know there are a lot of people who this task on a fairly regular interval because the thought of sleeping in your own body filth grosses them out. However, I would also bet that those people are probably women. LOL In my experience, men can go far longer with unwashed sheets than women can. Generalization, yes. Truth? Yes.

Anyway, back to the hated task.

The first problem with washing the sheets is it takes so dang long and it is such a friggin’ hassle. Strip the bed. Wash. Dry. Make the bed. The problem with this whole thing is the washing and drying part. In the process of making this happen, something happens in those damn machines that makes the process that much more infuriating. The washing machine twists and tangles everything all together and pulling them out of the washer to put into the dryer is a long string, of seemingly never-ending, moist fabric. It’s like that magician that pulls the boxers out of his pants and the clothes just keep coming.

The second problem with washing the sheets is that you typically have to dry them twice, which makes the process even longer. Because the washer likes to twist them into “ropes” or tangle them into balls of fabric, the dryer doesn’t undo the difficulties it just exacerbates them. Again, as the sheets tumble around in the dryer the dryer likes to make this twisted and tangled and bundled into a mess that has to be unwound if you want everything to be dried. Thus, once the first cycle is done, you have to basically take everything out, check to see if it is dry and then throw it back in for another cycle if not yet dry. Plus, if you have any actual clothing in with the sheets they will almost always end up balled up in one of the fitted sheet’s corners and almost always will still be damp. How does it know to go to the corner? A mystery for sure! But one that just adds to this unpleasant chore.

So, inventers, my challege to you is to make a washer and dryer that will not bind up the sheets, tangle the clothing, knot up towels, or clump items together like a rubics cube puzzle that has to be solved. Just wash and dry the items contained within.

That is all.

I’ll go

Some days….lately, a lot of days…

There are a lot of days as of late that I have to admit I feel like Cameron, from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, when Ferris is trying to get him to go out for the day.

So many things these days put me in this mood – I don’t want to do it, I don’t want to go, I don’t want to see/hear/talk to people. I don’t want to work. I don’t want to do responsibility. I don’t want to adult. There are lots of reasons for feeling this way and I am in no way sick or anything like that. I just don’t want to.

But, guess what? Just like Cameron in the movie, I go.

I do it. Because not doing it means that stuff would just fall apart.

Damn responsibility…

Backing out

Photo by Dallas Wrinkle on Pexels.com

A few years ago I startedd playing disc golf as a way to get outta the house and do some walking. It was right before the global flu took hold so I played right through it. It’s now been a couple years and the buddy that I get out on the course with has now invited a couple other guys to join us and learn the game too. I like them all and generally have no complaints about them.

That aside, one of the guys that is now included in the group is getting the reputation for backing out and it’s rather annoying.

He is invited to hang out on the course with us or he even initiates and invites us to hang out with him to play. Plans are typically set to meet at a time and course and people are looking forward to it.

Then he backs out.

He usually uses the excuse that he worked all day and is too tired. OK, I get it and an ocassional instance would be one thing. We all work and obviously that can be a deciding factor but out of 10 invites he uses this as an excuse six times. If you are tired or think it will be a deciding factor for you, don’t say your are going to go. Just don’t commit.

Sometimes he uses his small child and even his wife as an excuse to back out. Again, this is understandable, but again it can also be something that can be decided before committing to meet.

Anyway, what would you do? Keep inviting or accepting invites knowing he most likely will not follow through, or do you drop him and not invite him any longer?

Another fee

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

Accessing health care in the US is problematic, at best. The overall debate on whether it should be free to all (via government funds and a huge increase in taxes) or whether it should be something each individual should be responsible for is one I am not going to talk about today.

However, we all know that the cost of health care in the US keeps many people from accessing the care they need. People have to think about how it will impact their overall finances and whether or not they can afford to see a doctor. Obviously when you don’t think you can afford to get care you don’t go.

Yesterday, at a doctor’s appointment that is an hour away from home, I noticed the large facility that the appointment have been at for almost a year had new signage up in their parking garage and in the elevator areas. The signage basically said that “Parking is on us until we get the technical difficulties figured out.”

SAY WHAT?

So what has been free for at least the last year is now going to have a fee? I imagine at some point (based on construction and existing facilities) that there was parking for a fee previously. Not sure why it has been free up to the point of the visits.

But, it raises a larger question about yet ANOTHER FEE to access health care.

Should you really have to pay a fee just to park so that you can access health care?

It seems almost unfair for people who may already be struggling to access health care to add yet another fee.

I know of at least one other health care facility in the Seattle area that charges parking at it isn’t cheap – almost $10 an hour.

Something feels really slimy when thinking about people getting charged just to access their health care. They are already being gouged when paying for the care they need, but to add insult to injury they are now going to be charged to even access the building.

Imagine if you had to pay for parking at a grocery store so you could go inside and buy food (maybe this already happens in big big cities, I don’t know)…awkward right?

Gives me a really icky feeling. I am all for making money in places that make sense, but to punish the public to access something so vital almost seems underhanded – especially since they become a pretty captive audience one they’re in the parking garage.

How do you feel about these “hidden access fees”?

Unnecessary apology #3

Photo by Chris Carter on Pexels.com

You don’t have to admit it, but I know you have done this one too, especially if you have your own children. I’ll admit it for you. Today’s apology goes out to all primates because it’s probably not fair or cool or proper or appropriate or politically correct of us humans to imitate your eating of a banana (or at least what we think you might look like when eating a banana).

It all started that one day, way back when my daughter was just a wee one and she was finally able to eat semi-solid food. Of course, one of the softer foods to serve a wee one is a banana.

So, as she was strapped into the high chair and I was doing the thing from Unnecessary apology #2, I was prepping for my primate impersonation….

…Assume the posture, make primate noises and sounds, imitate primate mobility, make primate faces, consume banana in the primate way…

All for the entertainment of a wee one. Smiles, giggles, and claps ensue from the wee one.

Goal achieved.

Except, now thinking back, it was wholey inappropriate of me to assume that I could or should take on primate charateristics. How rude and insensitive of me. I am sure they (the primates) would be offended had they seen me.

Apology served.

Unnecessary apology #2

Photo by Luana Freitas on Pexels.com

I don’t know if there is a term for this, but I probably have to apologize to someone, somewhere for it. Maybe the apology is owed to the young for being patronizing or maybe it is to the older folks for stooping so low as to “not act my age.”

So, today, I apologize to whomever needs to hear it – young or old.

I am sorry for talking like a baby (or very small child) to a baby.

Again, I have to admit it, but it comes as a rather natural reaction to revert back to this way of communication when someone small is involved. I just can’t help myself. The “goo-goo, ga-ga’s” just kind of fall out of my head. Is baby talk natural? It must be because we all tend to do it…and I don’t even really like babies all that much.

I find that I hate myself a little more after having regressed back to infantile language skills, but for whatever reason it seems to work in my meager attempt at communication to elicit a smile from the newly present humans.

So, please, small human, accept this unnecessary apology.

Silly regulations

Not the dog, but the same breed.
Photo by Ricardo Pu00e9rez-Saravia on Pexels.com

I was doing a little research this morning and seeing about scheduling an appointment to put the dog down (quality of life is diminishing fast for the ol’ gal). So, I was looking at a couple of vet clinics in the area. It appears they are still sticking with the silly regulations imposed during “that time that shall remain unnamed”. As nearly all other businesses and areas of life have returned to somewhat normal functioning, apparently vet offices are sticking with the stupid regulation of having customers wear a face mask while in the office.

I don’t get it. It didn’t make sense when it was started and it still doesn’t make sense now. Why would you keep an owner of a pet from entering a clinic with their pet? Why wouldn’t they want to minimize the anxiety pets feel just by being there, let alone (in most cases) the car ride there?

Let’s be honest, a vet clinic isn’t a “healthcare facility”. Sure, it is for pets but they don’t wear face masks so making pet owners wear face masks while it is literally them and possibly another person or two in the room is ridiculous.

Anyone else found this regulation highly unusual?

Repeated conversations

Photo by Markus Winkler on Pexels.com

Don’t you just hate repeating yourself? I seriously dislike having conversations that have been repeated over and over, like they are on “Repeat” or “Play Again” or “Restart” or “Remind” or whatever. Whether they are at work or at home, with a relative or a co-worker or even a client. I hate having to repeat something over and over.

Like, were you listening the first time? Did you hear what was said? Did you not get it or are you purposely just disregarding what we have talked about in the past.

Do you have a limit for how many times you will repeat yourself or do you just keep doing it? Do you have consequences for the person if you keep having to have the same conversation over and over again?

What do you think? Are you the repeater or the person who keeps need to be repeated to? How do you like these conversations?

Burned bridges

Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Pexels.com

Well, the time has finally come and home is no longer a dreaded place. The subject of many of the rants on this blog has now burned a bridge and there is no chance of home turning into a place of total turmoil again (well, there is a large caviat to that I guess. More on that later.) It’s tough to go all the way back in time and cover all the ground that could be covered to properly put this whole thing into perspective, but that would be a lot of work and I am not sure you all care that much to have a complete picture. If you have been around the blog for a while, you can probably put things together with just the few posts mentioned here today.

I have tried to help those who couldn’t help themselves. I have been trying for many years and it finally came to a head this last weekend. The trouble with this is again that it is self-inflicted and someone thinks, yet again, they are the vicitim. Really, it is by choice and being unwilling to take any advice. Unfortunately, it’s the five grandchildren that will suffer the most.

When my step-son and his five kids were allowed to move in back in November there was hope that maybe there would be some changes in their lives that would lead to a postive outcome (and it might still but seeing that at this point is hard to imagine). Things that have been discussed here previously (see above as well as the following) was about wasted food, not parenting the grandchildren, and the outright disregard for sanity in parenting.

It finally all came to a head last Saturday.

The night before (Friday) by son had been up a large ortion of the night with the youngest grandchild because she was sick. As requested, he let us know he needed more sleep (he requested an hour) and we agreed to take over childcare duties so he could get some sleep. That request was abused and turned into four hours.

As a result, the five grandchildren were left in our care and we did everything we could to keep them occupied, busy, loved, dressed, fed, and entertained. We kept them from going in to wake their dad, even though he totally went beyond the time requested and agreed upon. At one point in the morning, the second oldest (age 6) got a little too rambunctious with the middle child (age 4) and repeated hit him “accidentally.” The 6-year old had been warned repeatedly and was asked at one point to stay on his bunk bed as a time out until he was released. Again, there was unusual noise and I checked on the commotion…the 6-year old was on the floor wrestling the 4-year old, having him pinned below him and him crying. I took one step into the room, delived a single swat to the backside of the 6-year old with my hand, which sent him crying back to his bunk.

He and I chatted about the incident not five minutes later and he admitted that he disobeyed, that he was playing too rough with his sibling, and that he hadn’t “accidentally” hit his sibling either. He went to far as to admit that he deserved the swat. He was back to playing and didn’t cause any other issues the rest of the day.

UNTIL. Until, he skipped into the room while his dad was making dinner and blurted out, “Grandpa hit me.”

I was there. He’s six, so his recollection of the events and why he got the swat weren’t entirely accurate. My son then proceeded to say, “Stop hitting my kids.”

Long story short, the discussion after that point corrected the events as told by the 6-year old, involved a threat of calling the police if I continued to discipline the children in a way that he didn’t agree with, and an ultimatum that said they’d move out if I (well, we, because my wife has spanked them too) didn’t bend to his parenting style, which includes the lack of discipline.

Mind you, he has virtually no place to go except one friend’s house which is not ideal for any of them.

So, I recommended finding a new place to stay since I was not going to do what he wanted me to do.

My wife and I had already had the discussion that this would likely come up again. There was a blow up about it a week prior where he basically packed up the kids with no coats, no socks, no shoes, and no food, and left the house for about 12 hours. We were clear when he left the first time that nothing on our part would change since we love the grandchildren and we are constanly having to step in to pick up the slack. We had the agonizing discussion that the threat of law enforcement would eventually be used and how we would respond to it…the conclusion was that we would ask that they move out, knowing full well that that wouldn’t be the best thing for the grandkids considering the turmoil they have endured over the last several years. But, we also knew he would refuse to leave them behind with us.

At this point, they haven’t returned. As far as we are concerned, he has burned his bridges with us. We, his mom and I, have been there and picked up the pieces enough. We love our grandkids, but for him we are done. If it really comes down to it, we will take the grandkids back to live in our house but he will not be welcome.

A tough decision, but we see no other way around it. We aren’t going have someone (even our son) threaten us and force us into living and “grandparenting” into a style we believe is wrong.

Home is more peaceful these days. It sucks considering what our grandkids are going through.

But, we couldn’t be held hostage in our own home either.