My computer works!
Some months ago, I took my computer to the store from which I'd purchased it. A big store. Part of a big chain, with hot and cold running techies.
"It doesn't work properly," I told the young men at the Geek Squad desk.
"We'll fix it," they said.
Fast forward a few days:
Incoming phone call...it's the Geek Squad, hooray!
My computer was worse after they messed with it, and it continued to get worse until I was at my wits' end.
Heartbreaking for a blogger.
Then our son-in-law phones to say he saw, on my Facebook page, that my computer is close to being toast.
"Maybe I can help," he offered. "I'll be over right away."
"Bring the kids," I requested, "I haven't seen them in forever because they're so busy. They haven't even met our new dog."
So we put our little Bonnie-Belinda on a leash and walked one block to the lawn by the swimming pool. We'd arranged to meet Wes and Kayen and Kiana there, rather than have them come right into Bonnie's house. In her mind, she's a guard dog.
This way she'd think of our grandchildren as friends rather than burglars .
We knew she would be happier about meeting in neutral territory because she doesn't worry about people and dogs who aren't in her house or yard, or walking past her, or, worse...on bicycles!
Sure enough, a little bit of sweet talk, a whole lot of petting, and quite a bit of shake-a-paw did the trick, so Dick and the grandkids and I were able to enter the house calmly.
Bonnie was somewhat concerned when Wes came in a few minutes later, having had to move his vehicle, but he has plenty of dog experience, and after he put my newly restored computer on my desk, he had her playing shake-a-paw all over again.
Now, I think we should buy Wes a great, huge, and very big gift for the work he did. Overnight he brought my computer back to life.
Take that, Geek Squad, take that!
And guess how much it cost...a thousand, a hundred, or fifty dollars? It cost Wes just twenty dollars for a part, and it cost us that same twenty dollars to repay Wes.
Then we had some fun talking about the Virtual Reality place in Medicine Hat. Or, rather, Dick and Wes and the grandkids had fun talking about it.
I don't know that I'm ready for Virtual Reality, unless there's one that features me as I used to be. Not a chance.
O well. C'est la vie, as Canada's other official language says. I'm just happy that my computer got rejuvenated, but I must confess I don't know how to say that in French. That probably makes my blog politically incorrect, but my French went the way of all good things, because I'm old.
Monday, July 3, 2017
Before I try to get into the intricacies of my computer's failing health, let it be said that I now find my own silly self on the horns of a dilemma. (I've always wanted an occasion to use that phrase, and here I am at last, with just such an occasion, just when I don't need it.)
Unfortunately, it is not a happy occasion. This dilemma has huge horns.
My computer is getting worse and worse every day. For instance, my husband's cute photo of our Bonnie-Belinda-dog with her nose in a peanut butter jar — I can enlarge it, but then it is fuzzy — even fuzzier than it is here, and yet it is sharp and crisp when my husband enlarges it.
|Enlarged only slightly but fuzzy already.|
Due to this and many other problems, I definitely need a new computer.
However, we also ( and also definitely) need a new dishwasher.
What to do? What to buy, and which to buy?
Yes, dilemma. Horns and all.
Part of the problem: I have already booked and paid for a multi-stop hop over to my homeland, British Columbia, plus I've already paid a crew of arborists for topping and trimming our huge poplar trees. Definite deficit in the old bank account.
Re the trip, I am flying from Medicine Hat, Alberta, to Calgary (also Alberta) and then from Calgary to Kamloops, BC, to visit my mother's cousin Ian MacKenzie; from Kamloops to Vancouver to visit my family, from The Wet Coast to Kelowna, BC, to visit my friend Gloria and then, on my last day, from Kelowna back to Calgary, and thence a flight in a very slow teeny-tiny plane to get me home to Medicine Hat.
The very definition of a multi-stop hop.
The very definition of a multi-stop hop.
Air Canada had a seat sale, and I couldn't resist.
Yes, booked and paid for.
Paid, however, before a large branch from one of our huge trees came down, hitting the power line between the garage and the house. The power line by then was hitting the metal frame of the hot tub gazebo, and the big branch was formed a link between the power line, the metal structure, and our house.
I came home to find my husband and a neighbour calmly de-limbing and cutting the fallen branch without a care in the world.
"Did you call someone about it?" I asked, but they hadn't.
I think I lost my temper.
I think I lost my temper.
My hysterics resulted in the requisite calls being made, followed almost immediately by the arrival of a firetruck ...siren and all... attracting several of our neighbours.
So, at the suggestion of these authorities, I phoned the tree-toppers, and now find myself in a dilemma indeed, re my upcoming trip to BC.
Since then I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out what to pack so that I can get by with one carry-on bag. Gone is the option of buying something to wear when I get to wherever I'm going. Even if the tree-faller-fellers hadn't cost me all my savings and all my credit, I would still need a new computer. And a new dishwasher.
(I'm waiting to see if my husband will offer to wash all the dishes by hand. I suspect it will be a long wait.)
...and Canada just had its 150th birthday. 150 years since Confederation. 150 years of being our own people.
Oh, sure, Canada was around before that, but had to wait for a bunch (er, a gathering, a committee, or some such) of Brits to declare us a separate country all on our own, with only a formal tie to Britain. (If we get on the list early enough, we can rent one of the Royals for a celebration or a bridge-opening.)
Most importantly, this past year has seen much progress in reconciliation with the original people of this land. It isn't perfect, but it's progress, although long overdue.
Prime Minister Justin Trudeau celebrating.
I bought this marijuana-flag t-shirt for the occasion, but didn't wear it in public...I used it as a nightshirt. Canada seems to be headed for legalization of the used-to-be-wicked weed sometime soon, and it will be interesting to see how our young people (and those not-so-young people who still imbibe) will handle it. I fear that having for sale in special outlets won't completely eradicate illegal buying and selling. (But what do I know? I'm old. Right?)
I remember this man. Lester B. Pearson was Prime Minister of Canada when I was in high school.
"It is becoming apparent to the world — at last — that we are not merely an Arctic extension of the United States," the prime minister said then. "A London journalist even went so far as to admit that Canada now existed not merely as a fact but also as an idea and an ideal."
And so we progressed.
"Fifty years later, we bask in the reflected glow of a prime minister's socks. Canada is noted in foreign papers for both our leader's whimsy and our status as a relative paragon of pluralism and moderation in a newly fevered world," said CBC News.
It's a good place, this land of mine. I always wear a Canadian Flag pin when I travel to foreign countries. And I don't really say "aboot" — no matter what Americans might say.
Posting this for Lady Fi's memorable meme Our World Tuesday.