252 Used to Seem Like a Huge Number

Did I mention we've entered the high-tech world of text messaging? No? For Christmas Josh got a phone (from his grandparents, not me). It's one of those pay-as-you-go deals--a real scam if you ask me. So far it is still cheaper than putting him on my service, so I decided it would be a good "experiment" to see how he liked having phone service. A couple weeks ago, a friend of his showed him how to use messaging, and for some reason I still don't understand the company had given us a little credit, so he was able to have the cost of the messages deducted and thus able to try it.

Well, after checking it out, I decided it would be fun to add texting to the service for this month just to see if he and I liked it and if it was worth having. I selected an inexpensive plan for 200 messages, and with the purchase of his monthly minutes, that left about $5 credit on our balance. Well, he's been enjoying doing some texting, and I thought it was funny . . . until last night . . . when I discovered he's used all his pre-paid messages AND all the credit on the account (which was supposed to cover NEXT month's messaging).

252!

He's used 252 messages. Boy, word got out fast! And his little fingers must be flying. And I'm left without the ability to message him now ('cause sorry, I refuse to pay for more messages!). That used to seem like such a huge number, but now . . . . So now we're looking at a plan with unlimited messaging . . .

I need to remember to thank his grandparents for introducing me to this world. Wonder if they knew this was a gift that kept on giving?

Election Amusement

This year it has been amusing to watch election developments. Of course, the amusement ended tonight. It hasn't been the bantering between candidates that has interested me, but the fact that there is someone else in my house interested in election developments. My 14-year-old surprised me this year with a political opinion. I'm not sure where he got it--I tend toward disinterest in most things political. (I take elections very seriously, and do research and vote on an informed opinion, I just don't care much for all the political stuff that goes on.) It has been fun watching Josh go from someone influenced by what others around him thought to someone whose opinions were directed more by what he learned about the candidates and his own beliefs and ideas.

Unfortunately now I have to help pick up the pieces of a very discouraged and disillusioned boy. He can't understand how a candidate who seemed so clearly unqualified and unworthy of being president could be elected. I'm not worried about it--I know this kid will understand more as he learns more that voting your beliefs is not always as clear and easy as it seems when you are 14. I'm trying to encourage him that God is sovereign and knew who would be elected before the U.S. was even a country! Not only that , but our great God will use even a president like Obama to further His cause and purpose. But I'm a grown woman and I still struggle most days to really believe that. How do I help a kid new to politics and to losing politically to understand it?

On the scary side, a thought hit me today as I talked of election things with my younger boys. My 14-year-old will be voting in the next presidential election. Man, I'm getting old!

Technology Makes My Head Hurt

OK, yes. Sometimes I find technology very exciting--like when I get a brand new computer (hasn't happened too many times), and I get to dive into all the things it can do. Or when my camera can capture color, black and white, or any other color photos, and I can see them, and I can zoom into any area immediately. That's just too cool. But most of the time, technology is like the cute little fuzzy Gremlins in the movie that came out when I was a kid. Add just the right thing and it turns mean and consumes your time, energy, emotions, and often money!

I'm not even trying to do something hard right now--just faxing on my handy little print/fax/copy machine. I've never faxed anything before. I keep getting error messages . . . and right now it keeps telling me the line is busy. Did I put the number in wrong? Is is hooked up wrong? Am I supposed to add a "1" before dialing the number? I just don't know.

Invariably this always happens to me, some Snafu that makes that thing the technology was SUPPOSED to save me time doing take about 100 times longer to do!!!

I'd throw the printer/faz/copy machine, except I've finally figured out how to print and copy with it.

Ah. Guess what? You have to add a "1" before you dial in the number. Couldn't someone have told me that? Ughh.

Good Auto Insurance? Definitely Worth Every Cent of Premium

No, I didn't have an accident. Did I mention the time my car engine got set on fire? No? Well, we had roadside trouble, had "help," and one of my "helpers" set my engine on fire (briefly). Fortunately he put it out quickly, and as far as we could tell, not damage was done. My insurance policy came in kinda handy then, providing towing to the nearby mechanic's shop. Oh yeah, and there was that time that my Suburban coasted to a stop just inside of our church's parking lot, and I had to call to have it towed (again) to the mechanic's.

Today I used it again. Not towing though. One of the boys locked the keys in the car last night. We got up this morning to go to co-op. Good news! The back hatch that wouldn't lock for months, well, it locks now. So we couldn't even go in the back to rescue the keys. I'm learning that when life's minor crises hit, I do well to take some time to consider my options before reacting. A dear friend picked us up and got us to and from co-op (and an appointment I had . . . more on that on my other blog), and in that time I remembered, oh yeah!, I have insurance! So when we got home I called and guess what! They cover lock-outs. So right now I'm sitting here waiting for the towing company to come unlock my car, and I'm thankful for the ridiculous amount of money I pay each month "just in case."

God Covers All My Ducks

I've known for a while that all my ducks weren't in a row. Financially, I'm a goofball. No, really, I am. One of the things I've known for a while that I should do is make a list of everything in my wallet . . . you know, just in case it went missing. Didn't do it, but I should have.

Today the two younger boys and I went to the library in Gainesville. We do this monthly, so it's not an unusual thing. Before we left, we stopped at Sonic for a quick bite to eat (I do love that place!), so of course I had to use the . . . ehh hem . . . ladies room while we were there. I went back to the business of roaming around one of my favorite places in the world, picking out more books than we will ever read (but gosh! I could roll in them and be happy!). Unexpectedly, I was called to the circulation desk. I wondered what it was about--had they discovered fifteen books I forgot to bring back? Quick, where are the kids? So I went to grab my purse . . . only to find . . . no purse.

And yes, that was it. When I got to the desk, someone had turned in my purse, which I had left sitting on the shelf behind me in the restroom stall. Quickly I unzipped it to find that my wallet and a small change purse had been stolen. So the boys and I sat around the library for a couple hours waiting for a police officer so I could report my wallet missing. Meanwhile, my overactive brain was trying to recall what billions of cards I was carrying in those two wallets.

Now, for how God covered my ducks, even though I had not:

• I only carry one credit card and one debit card. They are on the same account, so I had them cancelled in about ten minutes.
• My bank was able to quickly lock my account with a password.
• Most of my money had been left in my car, so they only got about ten bucks.
• My car was running literally on fumes, but because I had left my money in the car, I had money to get gas.
• Whoever stole my wallet left behind my checkbook and car keys.
• My kids were safe.
• No weapons were involved.
• Everyone from the people at the circulation desk to the policeman that responded was very nice.
• I never broke down in tears.
• I only really have to replace my driver's license and wallet. The other cards will be easy to replace . . . if I remember all of them.
• I didn't lose either of my library cards . . . well, I did lose my Clay County one, but I never use it anyway! My Jax and Alachau ones are safe and sound, and we were still able to check out all our books today!

As my best friend Eva told me, I had my cell phone, keys and library cards! How bad could it be?

Technological Hyperventilation

You don't realize how necessary . . . dependent . . . addicted you are to modern technology until it is ripped against your will from your clutching, clinging white knuckles. That happened to me today. I have two computers with Internet access. I got a new one last year for ME, and moved my other one downstairs for the boys to use for school and for me to use for school record keeping and such. Some time ago, I started having problems with it . . . long story . . . I let my anti-virus lapse for a very short time, and I thought something got on it. Now I think it was just spyware that slipped past my system. Anyway, when I upgraded to Internet Explorer 7 the whole Internet thing went kaplooie, and I lost Internet Explorer. Can't access it at all. Couldn't even get it back by doing a system restore and going back to IE6. But no worry, I still had my beloved America Online. Problems kept continuing to develop--nothing serious, just annoying little things that I'm too technologically impaired to figure out how to fix, and then after one of my ignoramous fix-it attempts, I deleted something important from the AOL file, and you guessed it! No AOL. Ugh.

So for months now, I've been meaning to backup files and take the stupid computer to my dear friends' computer genius father-in-law (are ya confused yet?), to get it cleaned up, fixed, whatever. But of course, it's the kids' computer, and I still have mine, so no rush. Right? Well very early in the wee hours of the morning I got on my precious, only to discover an error message about the system back-up battery. So this morning I spent ALL morning on the phone with Dell working on figuring out what is wrong. And guess what. It needs a new battery. Which I can't change. So I have to wait for a special technician to come out and change it. Which will take a few days. And we "drained the battery power" to discover this is the problem, so my precious won't even boot up and stay on. Do you see the problem here? I have NO INTERNET!!!

No, I'm not at the library blogging right now. No, I'm not at a friend's house either. I finally got some motivation to reinstall the AOL software on the downstairs computer so now it works!!! Hooray! But only after I had a major withdrawl panic attack, wondering how I would live without blogs for a few days, and whether I had put my Webkins to sleep and how the little virtual pet would fare without me to check on him each day, and what the hootie I would do without a computer to play with and talk to for as many as THREE days!!! Yes, I did near hyperventilate.

I'm embarrassed to say that I also said all of these goofball things to my bestest friend, who just laughed at me (not with me, 'cause I was having a breakdown, not laughing). Oddly enough this was the same best friend who I was discussing the excesses in material things that plagues America and how shameful we are in our greed and spending while so many people in the world are starving . . . .

Is there a computer patch . . . or gum or something ? 'Cause I think I need it.

Sometimes They're Just No Fun

Why why why do boys have to ALWAYS one-up each other? Why?

I ate my ice cream.
I ate my ice cream faster.
I ate my ice cream faster, got a brain freeze, and still ate it fast.
I ate my ice cream faster, got a brain freeze, but I ate it faster.

I was here first.
I was here before you even came downstairs.
I stood here all night, so I was here first.
I was born right on this very spot, and haven't moved since except to go to the bathroom, so I got here first!

Then there's the one-up that makes no sense to me whatever.

I have five guns.
I have twelve guns.
I have twenty guns, three bombs and a tank.
I have a nuclear weapon.

"MOM!!! Josh said he can use any eight powers he wants, but I only get to use two of mine, and they can't include super-strength or heat vision! Mom! Tell him to let me use my powers!"

Uuuugggghhhh! Quit it already! There are NO mountains in Florida, so ya can't be king of it!

OK, here's the twist in my house. I do sometimes like to play "one-up," but I'd really like it to be a little more fun. 'Cause here's how it goes at my house:

I'm hungry.
I'm hungry too.
I'm hungrier than you. I could eat a cow.

(Ok, at this point, I'm looking for an animal a little bigger, until we get to something like the Great Blue Whale and run out of big animals. What do I get?)

I'm hungry infinity times to heaven and back. (Game over.)

Guess there's no point even trying to cook for that appetite. Why can't we just have fun imagining what we could eat?????

The Million Dollar . . . DOG!!!

Yes, that is what I've adopted. Not only is he crazy. . . not only does he destroy everything he finds near the floor . . . but now? He has allergies! I had noticed him chewing on his feet a lot and saw that the hair was thinning and that they were a little red. Since I've found a more or less inexpensive vet, I figured I should get it checked out. So we took Nate yesterday and he has a yeast infection combined with a bacterial skin infection and yeast in his ears resulting from allergies!!! Fortunately Walmart now offers $4 perscriptions, even if the meds are for a dog! My poor pup has to be bathed twice a week, have drops in his ears two to three times a day, have his feet wiped with special medicated pads two to three times a day, and has a med given in the morning and two at night. Or maybe I should say poor mom has to wash the dog twice a week, wipe down doggie paws several times a day, put drops in the ears, and trick him into taking pills in the morning and night all for allergies. Sorry buddy, but I'm not spendin' much more on ya. You'll just have to scratch!

Maybe I should consider contributing to Social Security in his name. Then in a few years, we could afford his medical care. And if the government argues with me? I'll tell them that Walmart took a prescription for him!

The Dangers of My Love for Technology

OK. So I'm noticing this trend in my passion for technology. I noticed it today as I irritatedly tried to get video feed transferred from my camera to something!!! See, my dad gave me this really great video camera about four years ago. Stephen and I were going to Mexico, and so of course we needed it. It was an early generation DVR camera--really cool at the time. When I got my computer I thought it would be a piece of cake to transfer video footage to make DVD's. Transferring was easy, but there was no way to burn DVD's with the software I had pre-installed.

So I finally purchased Adobe Photoshop and Premiere. I LOVED Photoshop, but to my irritation, Premiere would not work with my CPU processor. About a year ago, I got a new computer, which I made SURE I could use Premiere on. Premiere loaded and worked fine, but my stupid camera--only accepts a USB 1 cord or Firewire, and of course my new computer has only USB jacks and Premiere only accepts USB 2 feed. I could use Premiere to make really great photo slide shows, but no video footage. Aaaarrrrgggghhh! Do you see where this is going?

Now about Christmas time, we were given money for the family. Our DVD player had been acting up, so finally! I had the solution! I would buy a DVD-R, so I could transfer video to a disk, then load the disk to my computer and Premiere. With Josh having been in this play, I finally had a real motivation to get it working, so we rushed home Friday night to play the video on our TV. But the cord that is supposed to transfer video from the camera to the other thingy you want to play it on? USB of course . . . which my TV and DVD-R have no receptor for, and my computer won't accept because it's USB 1!!!! (I'm feeling like and Abbot and Costello routine right now.)

There was one hope. My camera had Four output holes--USB, S-video, Firewire, and a little round yellow hole. The little round hole was my last hope, so I stopped at Radio Shack today to see if I could get a cord that worked. Mr. Knows-Everything-About-Electronics at Radio Shack looked at me like I was mentally challenged and handed me the correct TWENTY-FIVE DOLLAR cord. But hey! At this point I have about a fortune invested in being able to make these videos, so what's another 25 bucks? I drove home with images in my head of what I would do with that cord if I got home and it didn't work either (they did involve Mr. Knows-Everything). Got home . . . plugged in the cord to my camera . . . plugged the cord into my TV set . . . and . . . we have video! And sound!

I spent Mother's Day copying an hour and a half of video to a DVD, transferring it to my computer, importing it to Premiere, and editing video to my heart's content.

I think it would have been cheaper and easier to just buy a new camera. And oh yeah, Photoshop and Premiere now have a newer version out . . . and they do more stuff. Bet they don't take video footage from my cool little Radio Shack cord.

Evidence of God's Hand (and Sense of Humor)

* My car repair was only $100. No damage from the fire.
* Most of our school work done, in spite of a crazy week!
* The second car, the one I borrowed, also broke down, but it was at the church where the couple who loaned it to me both work, and Mr. B. was able to confirm that day that it didn't break because of anything I did!
* My car was ready by the time the second one broke down, and God even provided someone to get me to the shop to pick it up!
* No major problems in getting the puppy settled in here.
* My Sunday School lesson managed to get done (by 3:00am Sunday morning)
* I stayed awake in church today.
* My house was actually clean by the time my small group met here tonight.

So often we look for God in big things, and miss Him in the little things. I'm glad I had a week when I could see Him so many different ways.

No More Schedules!

Every time I work up a schedule--even a loose one that's more like a "routine"--something goes wrong. Usually it's just a little something wrong, just wrong enough to be inconvenient and to prevent me from actually getting in the habit of keeping the schedule, like a stomach bug . . . or unexpected company . . . or three really good movies coming in the mail at the same time from Blockbuster. It's not usually something really horrible . . . until tonight. Today we started a new "routine." I can't even call it a schedule now, or my kids will groan. So we started a routine. We did pretty well at it . . . well, we were only about two and a half hours behind all day. But we had time to rest and read, and even made it to the shelter to see our new baby. We got most of our school done, and the house is in pretty decent order. So I felt good. Then tonight on the way to Scouts, it happened.

Pulling out of the driveway, the car was a little sluggish--not much acceleration. I've noticed it briefly the last couple times I drove, but it cleared up pretty quickly, so tonight I headed on to Scouts sure that I wasn't just going crazy, and making a mental note to push a visit to the mechanic up to the top of tomorrow's list. As I pulled out on the busy road intersecting our subdivision, I quickly realized that I should have made that note today. After 50 yards or so, I also realized we weren't going to make it to Scouts, and I pulled over to the side of the road.

I don't like car problems. Not that anyone does, but since I don't have a husband to call for help, it always makes me feel more overwhelmed to have to be the one to make the decisions about something I know so little about. I called several of the friends I usually call on to bail me out of trouble, but didnt' get anyone at home. Finally I called my best friend (by this time I was handling it all like a woman . . . yep. Crying.), who called a friend of her's close by to come help me. As I waited, an older gentleman stopped and "offered his assistance." (So glad there are still gentlemen in the world to offer assistance to dames in distress!) He began looking at the engine, and about the time he asked if I had gas in the car, another guy rode up on a bike.

I though about the question . . . um? Gas? I knew it needed to be filled soon, but I didn't think I was out. Then again, it had seemed that I'd been running on the same eighth of a tank for a while . . . . So these poor men went to get me some gas. I was left feeling very . . . blonde.

Finally there was definitely gas in the car, but still it would not start. (Relief! It wasn't about me forgetting the gas! Of course then it came to mind that the low-gas warning light never came on.) After discussing other possibilities, the guy from the bike finally decided it must be the fuel filter. So he pulled some big fat hose off something in the front of the engine (hey! Be glad I know he was working on the engine, and I'm not using words like do-hickey and thing-a-ma-jig.) Then he started pouring a little gas directly into the opening. As my brain was asking, "Isn't it a bad thing to pour gas onto a car engine?", my friend cranked the engine, and flames errupted.

It seemed like my engine was on fire forever, but I think the guy under the hood actually put it out pretty quickly, but I was seeing:
*my crazy kids trying to get a good look at the fire under my hood (as I waited for the car to explode!!!)
*the dropped bottle of gas on the curb on fire (and about to explode)
*me trying to explain to my insurance company how a $10 fuel filter caused a major explosion in my car
*my friend still sitting in my car (unaware of the engine on fire because of the hood being in his way!)
*the sane man moving back out of the way
*me standing there like a dork wondering why I didn't have a fire extinguisher in the back of the car
. . . . All of this was coming into my brain at once and I pretty much just didn't know what to do. At last the goofy guy with the water bottle of gas put out my car, and said, "Yep, it's the fuel filter." Ummm . . . do most mechanics set the car on fire to determine that?

Now I had come to the conclusion that it would be a good idea to just have the car towed, so I got on the phone with my wonderful insurance company to arrange for a tow truck. After being told three times that, yes, I still was on hold and there would be someone with me eventually (Hey, thanks. Good thing I'm not in real trouble!), I got someone on the phone.

Not long after that, one of our counties finest pulled up to "offer assistance." By this time the guy who tried to make my car explode had left (not that I blame him!), and I was kind of wondering where the deputy was when my car was on fire. (I'm thinking now that somebody called when they saw the flames leaping out of my car!!!) After the men with me explained the whole thing to him, he also agreed that it was probably the fuel filter, and suggested that we bang on the little gadget a few times to loosen some of the sediment. He said we wouldn't be able to drive far, but might get it to a nearby mechanic--and my mechanic was just around the corner, so it sounded great to me. So I asked the lady at the insurance company to hang on while I waited to see if I would indeed need the tow truck, and my friend banged on the filter, but when we tried to start the car, nothing.

As I got back to giving the insurance lady information so she could send help, the deputy suggested the men push the car up and off the road. My friend thought he'd give the key one more try, and wouldn't you know it? The car started. Once again I told the insurance lady we wouldn't be needing the tow truck, made hasty arrangements to get to the mechanic's shop, and loaded the kids in the car, and we took it where it needed to be dropped off.

So for now I know I need a new fuel filter, my car can still run (I think!), there are still gentlemen in the world, and you don't let somebody pour gas on your engine. I also know that I'm without a car, I desperately need groceries, and that schedules really don't work. So tomorrow we're going to fly by the seat of our pants again. At least that way we will expect not to know what the day will bring! And expecting surprised will probably be a good thing when I talk to the machanic.