Reality

 

Just what is reality? Is it our version, the world's version or just a version unto it's self?

We are bombarded daily with shows on tv called "reality shows". I often roll my eyes at the seemingly lack of realness about them. I watch hardly any of them. I avoid the vast majority of them like the plague.

I have never watched a bachelor looking for a bride, I have never seen the efforts of the hopeful trying to dance or sing their way to the top. I'm not interested in bored rich housewives across the country, nor do I wish to watch grown men play with and try to catch gators.

Some of those reality shows I almost find a bit offensive. Amish bad guys, or I am assuming they are bad guys seeing as they call themselves a type of mafia. Preacher's daughters that has me wondering what kind of preacher wants to go on tv to play the role of the strict out dated father while their young, bad little girls try to find as much mischief as they can. It isn't the kind of preacher I would want to preach to me about choices and how to live my life.

I have multiple friends and family members that are addicted to reality shows though. They can't miss a single episode of men out in the dark searching for a mythical bigfoot that never can be found or a decent photograph of them taken. It's the adult form of the boogie man, and if they would have paid attention to their childhood, they would know the boogie man can be found under the bed or in the closet. But still they watch for an hour or more, as the characters stumble around in the dark only to hear rustling or howling or whatever it is bigfeet do in the dark.

I will admit to watching two reality shows. One on the Sci-fi channel about a competition of make-up artists that try to create and paint creatures, and another one on being top chefs as they battle each week with their own skills at making dishes to tempt the palette. I like the idea of being able to see someone's talent and how they use it and how their mind thinks in their efforts. Similiar to some other reality shows some might say, but for some reason those other shows don't interest me.

That's the thing about reality. We view our reality and the reality of others differently. What may appear real to us may not be so real to others. That chasing huge hairy beasts thru trailer parks, and gator infested swamps with gypsies and the Amish hot on their tails is someone's vision or version of reality...and that is okay. We all are different in our views and beliefs and our realities are in  part of our own making.

Over on facebook, a gardening group I am in, are having a growing contest. A variety of plants and ideas were suggested and zinnias ended up being the top vote getter. So many have already mentioned the variety of zinnias they have bought or ordered and some members overseas have already got zinnias in the ground, growing and starting to bloom.

I spent some time looking thru all of my catalogs, just looking for that perfect zinnia. Something new and different from what everyone else was growing. I ordered my one packet of seeds with high hopes and dreams of big swaths of giant pink cactus type blooms of my variety of zinnias that I would plant.

Imagine my distress to learn that my gardening nemesis "Vero" had ordered the exact same zinnias from the same catalog. Grrrr! But the reality is I should have expected it. Vero and I get a lot of the same catalogs, have a similiar taste in plants and are always looking for something new to try.

The reality is that most likely Vero will have those beautiful drifts of pink zinnias that I dream about having, and that I will in fact, most likely won't. Last year we had a terrible drought that we are still in. Despite the large snowfall amounts this winter it has made hardly a dent in our dry conditions. It takes a heck of a lot of snow to amount to an inch of rain.

My reality this summer most likely will be more drought. My high hopes of tall masses of the bright pink flowers will most likely be stunted, crispy plants with hints of mildew from over watering to try and  make my zinnia flowers grow.

It keeps me going though. Those dreams of big bold colorful blooms. It's what keeps me growing every year, this hope of having "pow, in your face" flowers and gardens that rival any English garden or Chelsea flower show entry. It's a sad attempt at a reality that won't most likely ever match up with the visions of my mind.

But I still try, much like the elusive bigfoot, I know it has to be possible. I just don't want to come face to face with the reality of either.



Ink Blot Blog

 

 

Some days, I feel as dumb as toast. Seriously you would think with the increasing years and time spent on the computer that my computer prowess would be up there, really up there. That I could spout computer jargon, ramble off html codes, and know exactly what all these buttons do on the keyboard. I have to confess, there are some buttons I haven't even used on here...ever.

The same applies to anything that is associated with computers, routers, external ports, or electronics in general.

You would think the simple act of running a printer would be no big deal, and it hasn't been in the past but for some reason it's become difficult.

First off, the ink required for the printer I have to order on-line. Living in a rural area, there really are no options except to order from a local business and then they will let you know when it comes in, so I just have it delivered here in the first place.

So I was quite happy the other day when my new ink cartridges arrived. No longer is one cartridge required for printers but two. One with black ink, and one with color. I should mention in my defense I have replaced ink cartridges before but for some reason yesterday was a total fiasco.

Step 1... Turn on printer...check

Step 2....Remove old cartridges...check

Step 3....Insert new cartridges...check

Step 4....Align new cartridge, press "OK" button...test pattern prints ......check

Step 5....Scan and print new document...check... Sort of ...

What the heck? First page prints okay-ish, second page prints with line of red in the middle, third page prints half red. Fourth, fifth, sixth pages look like blood bath. Ack!

Step 6....Read on-line manual, follow steps to clean cartridge carriage, remove carriage, ink cartridges and reinstall.

Step 7....Align new cartridges again, Press "OK" button..again....prints test pattern okay.

Step 8....Try to print documents again, print carriage out of align, warning to open printer again and reinstall carriage and ink cartridges.

Step 9...Clean and re-align carriage, insert ink cartidges...Align new ink cartidges for third time...(why is there nothing to skip this step any where?)...lovely 3rd sheet of colored squares of proper alignment.

Step 10...Print ....Yeah...it works.

Step 11...Print 6 more pages, 7th page very faint.

Step 12...Take out black ink cartridge only and replace back in making sure it clicks into place, skip the color cartridge in order to trick printer from doing cartridge alignment.

Step 13...Doesn't work, printer yelling with flashing words to click "OK" button to do alignment.

Step 14...Alignment is blank.

Step 15...Next 5 attempts at printing are blank.

Step 16...Open printer, remove carriage, cartridges and stare at printer innards blankly and stuff everything back into place.

Step 17....##!!!!!**!##!! Alignment again, click $$%##!!!!* "OK" button again.

Step 18.... Nothing.... Out of ink

Shipping and handling and cost of ink, $38 for 8 pages.

Step 19.....Visit copier at library today.



Washing with Chuck

I am not exactly sure when Chuck showed up. But there he was staring boldly at me the other day while doing laundry. Maybe he had been there all along and I was lost in my own little world and never took note of him. But despite his diminutive size, there he was, staring out with steely gaze on my bottle of detergent.

It took me a moment to make the connection. Walker Texas Ranger and clothes detergent? Why was Chuck on my soap? Wouldn't it be better to have Martha Stewart? Evidently Martha isn't as tough as Chuck, and only Chuck would suffice to fight my life of grime.

I have to admit I never really was a big Chuck Norris fan. Even a bit less so now. Oh Chuck my mind could only cry, has it come down to this? Are you all washed up? Have you battled all of the bad guys and now you are karate chopping your way thru grass, grease, and food stains? Would you come out on top as still a winner? Or would evidence of your failure be left behind for me to only gasp and curse your name?

I know, I know, celebrities have always lent their name and likeness to products for a quick buck. It has me wondering does it really help to sell the product though? Will someone out shopping, spy Chuck and make a mad dash to the soap display to snatch him up because of it? Will they be like me and be totally oblivious to Chuck until they take him home and discover him in the cupboard staring back at them?

I haven't really noticed any change in my laundry detergent. It doesn't feel any tougher. It doesn't seem to be noticeably improved with Chuck's approval. It does have me rolling my eyes and wondering who thinks up these things? And why Chuck of all people? Why not George Clooney? Why not Gerard Butler? Why not Batman or the Hulk? Surely a superhero could fight stains better than Chuck.

I'm not going to buy because of Chuck. Chuck, no offense but I think you are a bit cheesy and not at all what I want to see staring back at me from the bottle. I want boosting power, I want ultra clean. I want to know my whites will be white and my colors won't fade. Can you promise me that Chuck? You better be able to, I am holding you to it. You better deliver. Or I will karate chop you off my list and go back to Tide or some other washing detergent with big promises.

2013

Well it's here, 2013. Some thought the day would never come, the world was going to come to an end in December of 2012 and yet somehow we survived the apocalypse that never came.

But what did come over night besides the passing of time was...snow.

What?!! My eyes cried upon spying the fluffy stuff first thing this morning as I peeked out the door at the world.. Snow?!! Nooo way! The snow wasn't suppose to come. Well, it sort of was suppose to come, there was a 50-50 chance yesterday, but the weather webpage said it was only thru the afternoon hours and then it was down to only 10% chance of snowing. So I can be excused for my extreme disappointment in 2013 as it brought in a new year and that dreaded white stuff.

I could only close the door, and grumble under my breath,.."2013, you are not off to a good start, I expect better from you".

I expect you to be a banner year. You are suppose to be the year of all things good and positive, where I accomplish all sorts of things, start and finish new and exciting projects, and  generally have a year of awesomeness.

Snow right off the bat is not going to cut it. I had plans today. I was going shopping. I haven't been shopping since way before Christmas. I haven't shopped since last year. It's not like I really need anything, but I had plans. I was going to cruise around unhurried, unhassled, under the delusions of tranquility and lured into the lull of possible clearance items on the cheap.

Blankety blank snow! Oh I know I can still go shopping, but it won't be the same. There will be  people fighting for those closest parking spots again. People rushing and acting stupid, and generally being a pain the butt except all the while doing it in snow. Wonderful, frigid, road covering snow.

I'll wait.

I crawled back in bed after spying the snow and figured I would enjoy this holiday by just sleeping a good portion of it away, or at least the a.m. hours. The cat had other ideas and excited over the new year, proceeded to hop across my head several times. She wanted to ring in the new year with being fed, and the dry cat food available just wasn't going to cut it. I ignored her as much as I could, but as I heard the sounds of the neighborhood, of people out and about and clearing the roads and sidewalks, I forced myself to meet the day and the new year.

I sit here with my bowl of cereal and think of my plans for the day and mentally tic off the projects in my head that I could turn my attention to. There are the kitchen cupboards that need to be organized from the holiday rush of baking. There are the last few bits of holiday remnants to store. There is a stack of garden catalogs waiting to be thumbed thru again before being weeded out to the rubbish bin to make room for more oncoming catalogs.

But I sit here and think of things I should be doing, things that I should stop procrastinating on, and things that I need to focus on in the upcoming year.

I haven't even made any New Year's resolutions. Each year I make the same ones, and this year I thought about just making practical resolutions. Resolutions that are more attainable. Resolutions that are easy and then I figured what is the point, that really isn't a resolution but a cop out for instant gratification. Not to mention making resolutions requires some sort of mental and physical effort and all my thoughts seem to drift to the snow outside. It's not even a big snow, but an annoying snow.

It's pretty though. The sun glistens on it's white frozen self, and there are patches in the yard where it fell so thick and fluffy, that it appears as if the ground undulates wildly under that white blanket. But it is all of the snow's doing. It covers and colors, and transforms the whole world for just the briefest bit of time.

Much like those New Years resolutions. For a small moment I feel energized and ready to tackle the world and make a difference not necessarially for others but for me, and yet I feel like the snow. Quiet and serene and ready to linger in the quiet and take my time. Maybe I will melt after a few days, and maybe I will just stick around for weeks and make my pressence known.

For today my plans have changed but there will be other days, and today will be a day of quiet puttering, possible naps, and scattered thougths. Not a bad way to start off the New Year afterall.

One Month...

It's hard to believe it's only a month til Christmas. Thanksgiving was just a few days ago, and yet it doesn't quite seem like much of a holiday season yet. Thanksgiving was a quiet day here, with plans for the big turkey day postponed until today, and then again postponed til next year.

The turkey got a reprieve and continued on in it's cold storage until a near future date when it will make it's appearance with promises of leftover bits for days. I didn't mourn the turkey deficit as much as the flakey deletctable pies that never materialized. It's the one time of year that pies seem to be in abundance, and as I read blog after blog of people and their pies, I had the smallest twinges of pie envy.

I missed the pumpkin, the pecan, the chocolate and coconut cream. I missed the big dollops of Cool Whip or ice cream topping those calorie laden bits of flakey goodness. But I will get thru these next few days of pieless-ness and will concentrate on the upcoming Christmas season instead.

I didn't hit the stores on turkey day. I didn't hit them on the much touted Black Friday. I did however sneak out a bit this morning and just as quietly headed back home with just the smallest of purchases with promises to myself to finish the holiday shopping later this week, or next, or whenever.

I am not going to panic this year. I have a few things bought and if I run out of time or energy it will suffice. I am trying not to go crazy like I do some years and spoil people rotten. They are rotten enough and my continued efforts to spoil them even more seem futile and wasteful.

I need to prioritize just what is important and what needs my attention the most. I need to do some holiday baking for the neighbors that I do year after year. I tell myself every year after all of the mess and hassle it will be the last, but a part of me sticks to tradition, and a part of me hates the thought of disappointing anyone with just an impersonal gift card. It's the one part of the holiday that I still think should be at least more than just a desperate guess or spin of the wheel of gift possibilities. It's just hard to buy for some people and it's hard to put a price on the goodness and value of friendship and neighborly courtesy to those nearest to you.

So I bake, and stir, and assemble those sugar laden plates to say thanks. Whether they are truly appreciated, I don't really know. I think they are, but sometimes I wonder when I hear others say, "I don't bake or cook because I don't need it". Seriously, do any of us really NEED it? Nope, but I do think that a little bit of decadence given to others and to ourselves is a good thing.

That said, I am sort of glad to have missed out on turkey day. I can now hoarde all of those future caloric possibilities in the form of fudge, toffee, and that midwestern favorite - cherry mash. It's the thoughts of all of those confections that also makes me think it would be a good time to diet to prevent those thoughts of justification, "it's Christmas mentality" that allows me to sneak another piece of fudge, and another, and another until I am quite sick at the mere sight of anything sugary.

Christmas and holidays are such odd times. The are laden with expectations, stress, and guilt and yet we embrace them with such a fervor. I am hoping that this year if I lower my expectations, cut down on the stress, and try not to be so hard on myself, that the holiday season will be a better experience, at least for me.

So hear is to the upcoming holiday. Bring it on. I have girded myself with reality and common sense and unless I take some sort of direct blow of a super sale with 75% percent off, I think I will make it.
If not, I will stay huddled underneath the tree and refuse to come out until after the 1st of next year.

Relief...

Well it's over. Or at least, I hope it is all over. The junk mail, the unsolicited phone calls, the commercials, and all of the controversy of the latest political election.

Some are claiming victory, some are claiming a crushing defeat. I see it as inevitable with whoever was elected. I wasn't happy with either candidate and the amount of damage possible on both sides gives one thought and concern and the realization that we are just screwed no matter which way the ballot was cast.

It's scary when one delves into the background of each individual, follow the money trail of just who their backers were/are, and it's frightening to realize that anything and everything has a price.

Who the big winners of the last election were, are not the American people but big business. Big business has their hand in every politician's pocket and we can only hope as we go forward that we do not completely bankrupt this country literally and figuratively.

But that is enough of politics. I am tired of politics. I am tired of seeing friend versus friend, family member pitted against family member. I am tired of a false sense of belonging to a political party of any sort that really doesn't have your best interest at heart. I guess I hold those who are elected to a certain standard. Not a higher standard, but a standard in which they are their to serve the people and not their own interests.

Today is Wednesay, a cool day, but a sunny one. I have been a bit crabby the last few days and today I am of the mindset to shed my crabbiness and embrace something more sunny. I am not going to let any perceived slights or negativity to entertain any of my thoughts today. I am going shopping. I am going to think of Christmas, Thanksgiving, and all things chocolate covered.

Today I vote for me. A party of my own making. No donkeys or elephants for me, I will embrace being one of many sheep in this flock of red,white, and blue...

Grey and Blue and Other Shades in Between





 

 

I shouldn't really be blogging today. It's not that I really have a whole lot to say, but rather that I wanted to stay in the habit of at least writing something once a week. I get in a rut at times and before I know it, weeks have passed and I have failed to sit down and actually try and compose something. What is the point of blogging when a person doesn't even write?

 

Today started out with blue skies and a grey mood and it gradually graduated thru the day to greying skies and a darkening grey mood. I hate days that are like that.

 

You would think with the extra hour of sleep because of the time change, and being a Sunday that I would have relished sleeping in, and I would have if it weren't for the excessive scratching of a cat that continually lives up to her namesake of being a stink pot.

 

She has developed an annoying habit of scratching when she wants something. It started out innocently enough when she was a small kitchen. She would scratch a closed door, wanting to see what was on the other side. She would keep it up til I had to open the door or risk splintering wood work. She started scratching on the wall near her food bowl when it was empty. She would scratch, glance back to look at me, and then continue her scratching ways until tended too. I don't know how to break her of this habit either. At first I thought it was rather cute and funny that somehow thru a wierd Pavlovian experiment I had become the trainee instead of the trainer. It's not so funny any more, especially at 4:30 in the a.m.

 

It seemed to set the precedent for the whole day. Little things that irritate or got under my skin seemed to be excessively encroaching upon my day. I even found myself reading and commenting on some blogs on another page that had me wondering if my reply or comment was too curt, too limited as to appear blase` or flippant.

 

I have to admit that as my afternoon has gone on, I was ready to throw in the towel when logging on here and being told that google plus wasn't happy with my profile. I sounded fake and hollow and that nobody in their right mind would want to google or search for me on their ever expanding website. I realize just writing this crabby comment that I might even end up suspended, shut off and told to move my whiney butt off to somewhere else. I feel like I am about done some days with all of this blogging stuff.

 

A huge part of me wonders why in the world can't I just write and think out loud and be left to type my rambling words and what does it matter that I haven't given a searchable name for people to find me in my tiny rural area. That people might want to stop by, share a cup of coffee, and maybe stalk me for a short while before stabbing that knife in my chest while I incoherently whisper, "but it's just a blog for goodness sakes"... Okay I am being sooo overly dramatic and babyish, but I don't care.

 

That is what blogs are suppose to be about. You are suppose to be able to write your opinions and thoughts and have people read those words and comment on if they want. It's not about whether they agree with what you are saying or disagree or anything in between. It's about having a voice, just one voice, even if it's just inside my head and wanting to get out.

 

It's not like it's politics. It's not like who I am telling you to vote or not to vote for. I don't support either candidate, I think they both suck and I am not about to tell someone on who or what they can believe in.

 

I guess politics find their way into everything though and that includes blog sites. There are the liberal fun sites with games and the more serious, how dare do you mock our searchable profile list of other sites.

 

I realize that they are wanting to prevent spam, to prevent any sort of problems or backlash or complaints from others, I get that. But there is no way in heck (see I can self edit), that I am going to give out my real name. How in the world will I ever be able to complain about Aunt Bertha's disgusting holiday casserole, or the bi-polar ex-sister-in-law that keeps going off the deep end? How do I keep from stepping on toes, offending those who see themselves or THINK they see themselves in my free flowing words?

 

It's a fine line this blogging stuff. I don't want to have a blog where stuff is copied and pasted or where I come across as some sort of imaginary expert in some field that will have you all agog at my extensive wealth of bs.

 

Maybe I am expecting too much from this blogging stuff. That thinking out loud and posting those thoughts is taboo. That kind of free thinking is not allowed and I need to be more of a conformist and limit my blogs to pics of home, family, garden, pets, trips, and be like the other thousands of blogs out there.

 

I want more. It's not that I want controversy and to be a pot stirrer or some sort of blogging rebel. I want to be able to write what I am thinking at this very moment, and in the next moment...and the next... without worrying that the neighbor down the street read my blog and is peeved because I called them the "noisy, has to keep up with the Joneses" kinda neighbor.

 

So yeah, I want some anonymity... I don't even know if I spelled that word right, but yeah, I want to be a blogger with some sort of dark spy glasses and a trench coat. Trust me, I won't flash anyone, it's way too cold and I am way too puritanical in some respects.

 

Maybe I should stop ranting. Maybe I should close the lid on the laptop and walk away for a bit. Maybe I should walk away from blogging from a bit and keep looking for a place that might not even exist.

 

I don't know. I do know that just this morning I was thinking, ya know, maybe I will pick this place over all of the others because it is more about blogging. There aren't the distractions of games and quizzes and poke buttons and all of those other goofy things that are fun at times and annoying at others.

 

I guess I have to wait and see. Wait for that confirmation that I am real and searchable and all of those other things that this blog site thinks I should be.

 

If they find me, I hope that they will let me know. I have been looking for the real me for years.