"We Can't Return Your Card"

I had a list of errands the other day, plus a timetable. I gave plenty of time from leaving the house to making the one I really had to be on time for. But things change. 

I needed to deposit some checks I had. My credit union's "sister" in Arizona was fairly close, but a run there still took more time than I had while in the middle of the mad scramble to pack up the house in the final few days. I had decided to just bring the checks north with me. I ran into them in my pocketbook a few days back and made a mental note to deposit them some day soon when it was convenient.

We - my son Paul and I - used to be able to deposit into our credit union from a local US Bank since we live well out of the metro and the credit union doesn't. When I was working it wasn't an issue. As a courier I was all over, so one was always convenient. Paul is still working and for him it still isn't an issue. Before heading out I asked him, not needing to know for years, whether that local US Bank still worked with the credit union for deposits (and free ATM withdrawals). He said it did.

I endorsed my checks, popped  my card into their ATM, followed by the checks, answered the questions about how I wanted my receipt, and waited. At no point did the ATM say "you can't do that here". Finally I got my paper receipt. I looked at it and it had no numbers on it. What???? Then my first check came back out. A full minute later my next check came out. I waited for my card. 

And waited.

And waited.

Finally figuring out that my card wasn't coming back, I headed inside. I explained to the teller what had happened. Why didn't I get my card? It wasn't like it was stolen, or I'd been declined for a withdrawal for insufficient funds. So WTF???? She asked me to wait a second while she tended to the drive up window, never mind that she'd called me up to her window. Once she finally returned, she asked me what credit union I was working with. I answered and she informed me that they no longer worked with my credit union. (Since when?)

But what about my card? The machine "ate" it. I've never seen a machine do that to a rejected card. Either they won't take it in the first place, or they spit it back out at you once your business was completed, and apparently mine was completed.

According to them. But why no card?

There was no apology, no explanation of stupid or bad programming, no "It's a glitch we're working on", or anything of the sort. All I got was, "We don't service that machine so we can't get your card back." No suggestion that there was a fix if I talk to ________. Nothing. 

I began to remember why I stopped doing business with US Bank a couple decades ago, the lack of service plus their need to gouge their customers for every possible penny in every situation. I guessed they weren't going to get any money from me here so... So Long!

I checked the clock. I had just over an hour to deal with this if I dropped the rest of my errands and headed straight to the metro's nearest credit union branch. It was doable if the inside business didn't take too long. I had not only to complete the deposit but deal with my missing card. Cancelling the old one might negate a PayPal purchase I'd made the evening before, and I didn't want to do that.

I walked  in and made my deposit, also explaining about the "eaten" card and my concern about yesterday's purchase.  First, I was reassured that my purchase would go through. Then she asked me for the 4-digit code I wanted for using the replacement at an ATM. I wrote that down, and she whisked my checks away and went to a different station. I figured she was working on my card's paper work, and wondered how many days the new one would take to arrive. I almost never use it, but still. Most transactions are online these days, and I don't do much with cash anyway.

Oops, that reminded me. I needed to swap a $10 bill for a roll of quarters when she got back. We're using laundromats much of the time as Paul's machines are in the basement, and each year that gets harder. My back still hurts from straining it with a huge basket of laundry after we arrived.

I expected to see a handful of paperwork in her hands when she finished. Instead of that, she handed me my new card! And yes, it does have a new number. Whoever has the old one can use it for a mini window scraper! I was in and out in plenty of time to make the timetable for the most important errand left to complete, and so much happier with my credit union even than I'd ever been before, over nearly 40 years!

Tracks

So we got snow over the weekend. Over 7 inches the first wave, and I lost track after that, due to some rain and melting, and, frankly, lack of caring to head out to clear any and start fresh when I didn't have to.

Yesterday, I'd had to. We'd had a family birthday party postponed due to weather, and we couldn't disappoint a 4-year-old. Especially since we hadn't met him yet, nor his 5 week old brother! So packages got shopped for a week before the party date got changed, wrapped yesterday morning, finally, and taken out to the car just a "little" bit ahead of leaving. 

I had to clear a whole lot of snow and ice off the car before taking off. We don't have a winter snow brush, not after 12 winters in the Phoenix area, just a scraper with a short handle, and one side rubber and the  other hard plastic. It's good for the little stuff that doesn't require a long reach, like rain and dust. Otherwise there's a broom, no longer the smooth bristled version of itself when we bought it. Especially after yesterday.

It was during a pause in pushing the broom across the car roof when I saw them. First there were rabbit tracks. Huge ones. Must be that escaped semi-tame one I'd seen a few days earlier, huge, fat, and splotches of brown and white fur. Behind those tracks were deer tracks. Apparently they're still not afraid of heading into town despite two full blocks of houses on this end of it after 30-some years, at least at night when we are sleeping. 

Looking a bit further down the driveway, there were large dog tracks. Since none were widely spaced, I am guessing each came through at its own individual time. Nothing looked like a wild chase. Finally there were small splayed toe tracks with a thin tail print behind them. I'm guessing large mouse or small rat. Other rodents around here, chipmunks and squirrels, have bushy tails.

This morning we had more errands to run early. Fresh tracks greeted us without erasing the old ones in the snow. Two sizes of birds had checked out the driveway before I'd headed out to start the car. I'm guessing one set was robin tracks, if only because I'd seen and gotten photos of them at different times in the driveway, picking up the tiny apples from the Pink Spires Crabapple overhanging it and busy dropping fruit now before its next flowering. I do love the way those start deep pink and over the course of a couple weeks get paler and paler until they are almost white when the petals drop. It's nice to see the birds love them too, now that the highbush cranberries are no longer bearing and bringing them to the yard. I've cut them back to get rid of dead wood in hope of their coming back from their bases. 

But looking at this morning's tracks, I have no idea whether the robins had left the larger or smaller of the two sets of tracks, nor what bird made the others. Once back from our errands, enough melting had happened from the strengthening sunlight that almost no tracks at all remained except our own.

Incompetence Of Biblical Proportions

 I sent some stuff to an AZ auction house, selected because they were close and had staff experienced in dealing with collections, like Native American pottery and Asian (Chinese) art. Much of it sold, more to come, partial payments dished out. They sent me - or rather my credit union in an ACH payment - the payment from the first partial sale. Yes, there was a problem. I am so used to working with an out-of-state "sister" credit union when I make deposits of checks, that I automatically added the last three digits delineating the account number as going into checking as that credit union asks each time I go in.

Oops.

Yes, my mistake. No question about that. I told the auction company so.

I got two letters the same day early this week from my credit union letting me know that they were charging me $10 for that mistake. Plus if it happened again, they'd both charge me and refuse the check. They were doing me a favor the first time by taking the trouble to figure out the problem and put the deposit in the right account.

Two letters? Never mind, that's not the issue. I'd also just heard from the auction company that another payment was forthcoming.

I both called the auction house (voicemail) and sent them an email about the problem.  I gotta fix this ASAP, right?

I got an email back from the auction house claiming they would be emailing me paperwork to fix the account number, OR offering me a choice to have a check mailed to me to deposit myself.

Nothing arrived... until today when I got an email letting me know they'd just actually sent another ACH deposit... to the wrong number again. No acknowledgement it was the wrong number, just a final 4 digits which showed me they had done nothing to change anything. So it will bounce, I'll get charged again, and we could be doing this in an endless circle.

Imagine my joy. Really, just try. Try harder. Not working yet?

Me neither.

I went back to that email they had sent out claiming they were on the ball and going to fix the issue. I wanted both to send another follow-up email  as well as make another phone call, aka leave voicemail again because they do not seem to answer their phones. Yes, I mean during business hours, and that's taking into account the now 2-hour difference in time zones. I was looking for not just that information but looking for whoever sent out that email "response".

I had noted when it first arrived in my e-mailbox that it wasn't really signed, or at least not with a name, but it was so weird that I dismissed it and went on to other things, making a note to myself to look for their paperwork. What it was "signed" with was "John 3:16".

Say what? Yes I know the verse, have some strong feelings and thoughts about the verse, can quote it in King James version at the drop of an eyelash. But just what does that have to do with the workings of a business handling my money? Especially when it's not doing a prompt job of handling my money per my request after bringing the error to their attention.

I did get a reply... of sorts. "signed" again by John 3:16, simply pointing out that the original error was mine, not theirs.  Yeah, I get that. DUH! Never argued that point. If they listened or read previous communications, it's there. But they've had a couple days to react, to help fix it. More money was (supposedly) coming my way and I pointed out that I was aware of that too in my original messages. 

This time they got three communications. One was voicemail on the company's listed number as a follow up from the first communication voicemail, two were emails to two different companies, since the auction company uses either a different company or at least a different name to handle the financial end of things. The voicemail started out, "Don't you guys talk to each other?" Yeah, it had some "tone" to it. I'd have thought they had plenty of time to react and act in two business days, whoever had to contact whom. I don't swear on the phone. I mostly don't in emails either, unless you count a rare "shit" or Damn", neither of which were used in these communications, though I will admit to emphasizing my point by using full caps and extra !!! and ??? in places.

They decided to react, finally. This time with another statement that they WILL do something, making sure I can have the documents I need to either change the numbers or opt out of ACH and wait for mail. The latter was firmly recommended. Apparently they don't wish to deal with what they determined to be "rude" communications.

Oh, and the John 3:16 is "just how they do things at that office."  As it's used, it impresses me as an arrogant way to let everybody else know that despite not performing their job in a timely manner they are certainly superior to any "rude" customers because they are "saved". It also conveniently omits naming a person to be responsible for sending out the email but not following through.

I'm tempted to suggest they "save it" for church, and strive for some superior competency on the job. I'm sure they'd find that rude too, and send me another reminder of where they believe superiority matters. I don't care what you believe, whether you believe, how you worship or don't. When I contract with you for work to be done, I expect the work to be done. When adjustments need to be made and I inform you of them, I don't expect days of inaction when the correction is both easy and time sensitive, I expect action. You want to be superior? Do your job, do it promptly, do it well. If you can't, let me know, and explain. Somebody went home sick, I can understand. First day on the job - oops, I can understand. Reminding me it's my error with no further explanation for nothing happening after I contact you trying to fix it, when I already told you it's my error - THAT's rude. 

If I hire you for spiritual reasons, you'll know it and so will I. 

Hold your breath. Wait for it....

Still holding it? 

How about now?

You Can't Fix It

 You can’t fix it. Truly. I get where you’re coming from, a caring place, wanting to help, thinking something in your many years of experience will fit the bill. It just won’t. It’s not yours to fix. It really isn’t mine, either, or at least not more than I have already, but now it’s a waiting game. Yes, it’s frustrating. Everything is off balance. Life and dreams are on hold. I’m getting downright cranky. But we all just have to be patient, and that’s hard. So how about just changing the topic?

Maybe you saw the tee shirt. Steve and I thought it was funny when we first saw it, enough to buy one for each of us. There’s a big bull bison on it, black on white background. He’s saying, “You can’t fix stupid. I can. It’ll hurt.”

You know he’s right. Think of all the stupid people in the national parks who think bison are tame like milking cows. They either try to get nice and close for that selfie, or even send junior in to get close, because wouldn’t that be a photo, eh? They never stop to think, much less to recall how often it doesn’t end well.

This isn’t that kind of a situation. It’s not about stupidity, or lack of information, or needing new advice, or even needing emotional support. It’s about an unexpected legal situation. Advice has been given from one with experience and knowledge of the law in this specific situation. Paperwork has been filed. A clock is ticking. Assistance has been given to one who needs it but probably won’t heed it. It’s time to step back, let the clock tick away, and then swoop in and cut all the ties before moving on, making progress.

But people who care keep asking how it’s going, keep offering advice as if nobody had thought of those things long ago. It’s beginning to sound like there is fault involved, or withholding of resources, or stupidity, or all of the above. Do you even realize that doesn't help? Or worse, that it hurts?

How come nobody can just say, “Gee, that’s tough. It must be difficult to wait through it. Let me know if there’s a way I can help, but just know I’m here if you need something”? Because everybody seems to need to step in and fix it. And you can’t. I can’t. Steve can’t. The law takes its time before we can pounce, and pounce we will, when and if it comes to that. Because we’re not patient either, even though we are forced to be. There is a plan. There are people to implement the plan. There are resources to deal with it as soon as the clock runs out.

Now can we please just change the topic?

Outside The House, Visitors Too Early?

It's pretty cool for us yet, though extra warm for this part of MN this early. So while we haven't spent much time out of the house, aside from going to the store for groceries and stuff, we're still noticing what is there.  For example, first blades (singular and sparse) of grass are greening up in extra warm locations, like along the big boulder next to the driveway out in the sun. No typical first spring flowers are emerging yet however, like the scilla which normally turn the lawn blue, so thick are they. After those come crocus, daffodils, violets and dandelions paired with tulips, and on we go, marching through the blooming calendar. For now, a few blades of grass.

No snow. It has fallen a few times, we're told. It's melted within a couple days, instead of keeping the soil cold and moist. There are not huge piles like most years which have been plowed back into distant corners of big box store parking lots. Not even detritus piles from snow sit there, having been collected but melting fast, the kind kids like to march around looking for dropped pennies or - hopefully - better treasures.

Today and yesterday the highs are in the low 60s. Where usually there are ice pockets along the edges of the roads where a bit of thawing and refreezing have happened underneath, leaving white ice ready to crunch under every step of even the smallest children on their way by, now it's plain pavement. I clearly recall going out of my way in spring mornings to jump on those and break the ice surfaces with satisfying noises before school, or even as an adult where jumping gave way to plain old trodding across the surfaces. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

No such opportunities exist this spring. What will our grandchildren tell their kids about early springs' delights?

Those are replaced this year by new sounds. I don't have to step outside the house to hear and identify them, so plain and unique are they. Sandhill cranes are flying overhead, have now for several days. Normally they come in early April. I timed it one year because the local fire department was having a training exercise with the fire department of a neighboring town. An abandoned house was "donated" for use to them for starting fires and  using their equipment to put them out quickly and safely. It was done three separate times that day. Later a development would be built there, but this day it was just firemen, and city government folks.

That's how I was there, on that particular April 4th Saturday, when all the fire department volunteers arranged to be off their regular jobs for the event. Our assistant clerk was the wife of the other town's fire department's operator of their brand new 104 foot tall high ladder bucket. With their blessing both she and I rode up in it and observed the proceedings. I was there with a camera, taking pictures of the action, chatting, having a great time overall, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I also happened to be our town's Mayor, one special day out of my 8 years of service in that position. The camera belonged to the city, and all the pictures went to them and the other town to be shared and evaluated from this higher perspective. 

At one quiet point in the activities, a sandhill crane flew overhead, making it's primordial croaking  sound. It didn't appear to be one of the pair which had recently (the previous year? Two?) which had started nesting next to the city's sewer ponds, raising chicks, or rather "colts". This one was heading in a pretty straight line towards a Wisconsin nature center 30 driving miles away called Crex, soon to become a favorite getaway for me with a camera and occasionally a friend. I'd just begun to identify what they were at that time, and was informed they also nested in our city and this was their usual spring appearance time.

I knew in future years to look for them near April 1st. This year I'm hearing them much earlier. Considering what little I can observe in the environment right now, I worry for them. What is there for them to eat this early? They are omnivores, eating plants and critters. But they stay in the fall until they've pretty well cleaned up all the farmer-dropped grains in fields, and insects and small reptiles and amphibians have settled in for their winder snooze. What might be emerging this early? Yes, temperatures are higher, but even the bugs aren't out yet so what's a hungry frog to eat so it can stick around to feed a crane?

The problem is climate change, and the mis-match of living things that end their winters either by calendar dates or by temperatures. They have evolved to match their emergence to that of their pollinators -in the case of plants - or their food supply in the case of animals. Bees are missing their pollen producers but we're trying to make up for it by getting communities to go along with "No Mow Mays" so flowers are around as long as possible in early spring. That's great but it's March now. Monarch butterflies are missing their marks in recent years, with milkweed plants flowering - in our yard at least, where they are encouraged - early in summer or late spring, with no butterflies sighted until July. By then the flowers have all gone to seed, pods are formed and fattening, and no nectar awaits the butterflies' arrivals to tell them this is the place to rest, eat, and lay their eggs where tender new leaves will greet the new caterpillars. Tough old leaves are in place instead.

We drove through Nebraska a week ago. Flocks of sandhills were airborne, though I didn't want to credit their presence this early. When I finally caught a solid view of several circling flocks and identified them, my heart sank. Normally late March is when the people gather to watch them en masse, take pictures, and see them lift for northern destinations. I'd hoped the cranes would stick around the Platte for a couple more weeks at least. It seems my wishes have no effect on crane flights. Now I can only hope they can find the nourishment they need to lay eggs and raise colts for this coming year.

And that in the long run, it will still matter.

Truly "Comfort" Inn

 We've traveled a lot over the years, from camping trips to snowbirding travels between Minnesota and Arizona. The major travels are probably over now. But our last stay was arguably the best of all of them. We hit a Comfort Inn in Omaha on J street right off I-80 our last night on the road.

There have been a lot of mediocre places, plus some very unpleasant and a few pretty good. Our last stay is memorable however, for all the right reasons. Steve's cousin Lee recommended it. He travels some for his business, while we travel just to get somewhere. Money is usually an issue for us, though we have spent the bucks to enjoy Discovery Lodge in Estes Park, outside Rocky Mountain National Park so we could enter the park while enjoying Estes with its wandering elk population, as well as early arrival in the park before the timed entry program would keep us out without reservations. Even that did not equal our night in the Comfort Inn.

It started with a phone call. Obviously they had a call center out of the country, judging by strong accents making communication "interesting". Challenging is a bit more like it, but I paid close attention to make sure our needs were met and questions answered. Steve needs handicap accessible accommodations these days, and my requests have been met with a variety of results. It might be a long hike from the parking spot to our room, even including stairs on occasion. It might be a lack of places to sit aside from on top of the bed. Most often it is a complete lack of understanding of what is needed in bathroom facilities, between low toilets, to bathtubs one has to climb into with slick bottoms and no safety bars. So I asked the woman on the phone to describe their toilet and shower facilities.

She went away with my questions and came back with detailed answers. Their toilet was both higher and wider than standard motel toilets and had a very strong grab bar along the side. The shower was roll-in, no lip, with drains both in the shower bottom and the bathroom floor bottom.

(Note to self: do not drop PJs on the bathroom floor outside of the shower and expect them to stay dry. Otherwise do expect to need to remove one of the wastebasket liner bags to tuck your PJs into so they can go in your suitcase while keeping its other contents dry.)

The shower was truly roll-in, no lip. There was a sturdy safety bar on all three wall sides, a hand-held shower head easily reachable and returnable, and a nice height for the temperature control on/off water handle, which was quickly responsive to desired changes. It also had a sturdy seat inside, movable for your own idea of its best placement, and strong instead of wobbly like the ones you can order online for home use. A soap dish at waist height standing off to the corner was well placed for use by somebody sitting or standing, and a heavy terry mat for the floor outside for when the water got splashed outside of the shower kept the floor slip-free. (OK, the PJs served the same purpose, but that wasn't exactly planned.) The towels provided were oversized by standard motel standards, which was a great boon, and very soft and absorbent, instead of the usual motel ones which are just scratchy.

The only thing I could have asked for was a bidet. We have put attachments on toilets at either end of our regular travels and both of us appreciate them greatly. They will be installed in our new home once we decide what that is.

The TV controls were simple, though the program we wanted to watch was a rerun and we fell asleep partway through it. The bed was a good height to get both in and out for both of us, the mattress a compromise between too soft and too hard. Both of us slept well.  We could have used the mini fridge and microwave, but we didn't pack for that and tiredness took over anyway. A desk had a rolling chair, lights were logically operated rather than hunting for the right combination of switches to operate, a coffee set-up had 4 cups instead of a limit of two because the room was for just two people. Everything was clean, and the heating unit at the window was responsive to our needs. We never heard other guests in the hall or over our heads.

Continental breakfast was a huge step up from our usual experiences. Typically these have been so miserly, all carbs of two or three varieties, that we normally skip motel breakfasts and hit a McDonald's on our way out of town. This had about seven varieties of carbs if we chose, including making fresh waffles, several juices, regular and decalf coffees, yogurt and milk. But both of us stuck with sausage patties, scrambled eggs, and fried sliced potatoes with onions and peppers in them. Delicious!

Entering and leaving was assisted by the presence of valet carts which held luggage and could have carried garment bags if we traveled that way. I easily pulled mine from the car to inside the room, and replaced it between the front doors for the next guests, saving a very tired me from way too many trips with much too heavy luggage by then. (Funny, they weren't so heavy when I put them in the car at the start. Maybe the dirt accumulated? LOL )

Checking in was a breeze, just half a minute in the line while the previous customer asked a final question. All of mine were attended to quickly, directions down a very short hall to our handicap room were clear, and a senior discount applied so this was very comparable to our usual price at much less wonderful motels. Checking out was as easy in the morning, with the addition of simple directions to the freeway entrance. It was fully dark when we arrived and heavy traffic had prevented a safe direct path to the motel, so I wanted to check the best way back.

Comfort Inn, while we do not expect to do any major traveling in our future, if we do, we'll plan to be back!

Dear Nikki Haley...

 Part of me is saddened that you have pulled out of the run for President from the Republican Party. Trump needs opposition, and an actual challenge to show how qualified he might or might not currently be at actually running and/or serving should he win the election. Cult status is not a qualification. He should be required to debate, to speak to a national audience, to allow the country to evaluate him as a candidate in a field of contenders. 

However, I wish you to know that you would never have been the chosen candidate in your party, with the make-up of our your party as it is today. The Republicans have gone so far to extremes that they would have rejected you for a pair of reasons. First, you are a woman. Personally, I think that is fine. But your party is busy taking rights away from women lately, and aside from a minority of individuals in your party, would never have accepted you, however qualified you may or may not be. The second thing is, and again I don't personally find this a disqualification, you are not "white". The Republican party on the whole has become proudly white nationalist, with plenty of encouragement from Trump. 

It is  my assessment that your run was born out of stupidity in not evaluating who your party is  made up of these days. You made the mistake of adding to that stupidity by trying to pander to some of the worst members of your party when you claimed that the Civil War was not about slavery. Yes, I have heard that claim through the years. The defenders of that position claim is was fought over "states' rights".

What kinds of rights were they fighting over that none of the other (winning) states would allow them? That would be the right of those states to declare that their white citizens had the right to actually OWN other humans because of the amount of melanin in their skin, also known as referring to as their race as Negro. If the legal ability of white skinned individuals to OWN darker skinned individuals for no reason other than color is not the very definition of slavery, I have no idea what is. 

Let's not pile on the stupidity, eh? Or at least don't pretend that we haven't noticed.

Why Do They Call White Ice Black?

 I've seen black ice. The real thing. The kind that forms at temperatures well below zero. What you get at 20 degrees above, whatever else the weather is producing, is not black ice!

The day called for hitting I-80 in Utah, crossing Wyoming, and sliding down the front range of the Rockies in Colorado to Steve’s cousin’s house. She promised to throw a party with other cousins in attendance, all believing that this would be the last time all reunited. Since Steve at least, as the oldest surviving one, is not planning travel there again, it seems logical.

It started well, getting all packed up and leaving his brother’s home before the kids were up and out. There was just enough light for us to see the nearby mountain tops with their recent covering of snow. Alternate routes had been looked at, seeking the best, safest, and fasted way to get where we needed. Unfortunately in having to cross mountains, few options were available. This was at least the shortest in mileage, as the next one involved backtracking down I-15 to I-70 and going across to Denver, then north. Many more miles that way with no guarantee of better roads in upper altitudes. So  even if I had to drive more slowly on the northern route with its guarantee of bad roads at the beginning, it was mostly the best.

We hit snow in two miles. We weren’t even on the freeway yet. Once we were, signs in abundance warned of black ice, a “truck stalled”, and road construction. So far it was just snow on the road, but no idea of what lay beneath or how soon it would change, so I was one of the slower vehicles on the road. I’m always amazed at the cars which get away with driving dry-road speeds over snow-covered routes. I could tell you stories of some who didn’t get away with it. No matter, I took the safe way.

Ice did indeed appear, and the sky had lightened enough by then for us to see it, hard packed, dirty white, no evidence of salt having been applied, and bumpy, irregularly worn such that the car was kicking sideways as it crossed the unevenness. I stayed in the right lane for about the first 80 miles of our trip, until we came out from under the light snow and hit dry pavement.There still had been warning signs along the way, warning of construction (none), black ice (wrong color), and a semi stalled inside of that distance, so take the left lane. Yeah, no thanks. Not until necessary.

Any stalled semi had long since vanished, either removed or un-stalled on its own. These must have been yesterday’s warnings and nobody had come into work to change them yet? But miles past where the signs claimed its presence to be, we did pass a semi with an issue. It had rolled off the pavement onto its side in the right side ditch! No other vehicles were in attendance, so we presumed whatever happened was long since dealt with aside from recovery of the vehicle. We joked as we passed about how it certainly had found a bad way to stall. Miles later we passed another one, with a double trailer, this time in the center median, jackknifed in three different directions. The weird thing about both of these is that the ice had long since made way for clear, dry pavement. No evidence it had snowed for days. Why now? Or here? The road was straight, lane markings were plainly visible, unlike miles earlier. Do we blame the drivers? Or maybe idiots in front of them requiring abrupt reactions?

By now we were past the falling snow, speed limits were 80 in most places, occasionally dropping to 75 for brief distances, but smooth driving all the way to Colorado. We saw clouds dumping snow and blocking sight of the mountains in the distance for much of the rest of the drive, but wound up after the start of our journey with no more snow on our path.

Still, we had lots of salt spray on our windshield. When I’d had the oil change just before leaving, I’d forgotten that they have no clue in Phoenix about mixing water and the blue washer fluid for driving in cold weather. My reservoir froze, the only thing in or on the car except for some exterior ice patches which had. Pop or water bottles left in the car? Just fine, thank you. Clean my windshield for better visibility than peeking between white dots? Dream on. It wasn’t until we hit Laramie that I tried the washers again, just to keep doing it. SUCCESS! I had a clear windshield again, rear one too since they now worked. Just to keep making room for a mix of fluids needed for dependable results, I kept flushing the system of water. (Haven’t bought the blue stuff yet however.)

Dinner was great food in abundance, lots of amiable conversation, sangria for most there, and nothing remarkable until after dessert. A couple people left for more comfortable chairs (old age you know), and talk turned to politics. It turned out I was the only non-extreme Republican there, except Steve, and he’d left the table for a comfy lift chair.. I was polite, and kept my mouth shut, more in amazement than anything else. Where do these seemingly nice people come from?

Abortion “facts” took over the conversation, with alleged pre-birth abortion procedures getting spelled out, such as a killing injection into the brain as the baby starts to emerge at 9 months. All but one person opposed all abortions. I might have mentioned ectopic pregnancies, which when left in place kill the mother with never hope of a viable baby, or most idiotic, a uterine relocation. I might have mentioned incomplete miscarriages or dead fetuses decomposing inside the mother causing infection and threatening her life. But now, I just listened. They all “knew what they knew”. And “God makes no mistakes” so I guess their deity likes to kill women despite safe medical practices allowing her another chance at a wanted family.

Anyway, there will be some kind of a prayer service at the state capitol in the morning.

Conversation changed when our hostess brought out large bunches of old photos of people in the family, many of cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparent to those there. This group of people people were all the last remaining of their generation of cousins except two of us who were wives to them, and of the group Steve is the oldest survivor. The issue was identifying the people in them as the photos came from different sources, such as cleaning out a house after somebody died, so nobody to ask, no identifying names on their back side, so who were they and which of these cousins should take which photos home to their families? Steve identified many of them, although how somebody with a face smaller than the head of a sewing pin was identified is beyond me. Still, his parents and grandparents were in many of them, and babies were identified by who was holding them. Almost everybody identified someone in a few photos when nobody else could. Few photos were left unclaimed when the table was cleared.

Conversation relocated to the living room, but after my long day I had to excuse myself “early” to get some sleep. We’ll still be here for another night, at which time I’ll need the information to decide whether all is under control at the house in Sun City, or I have to fly Steve to MN for somebody to pick up at the airport and take to Paul’s while I head back to the house and kick some butt!

Winter Again. Snow Even.

Salt Lake City is a far cry from Phoenix. First, and best, I'm able finally to relax here, responsibilities eased, even sleeping through the nights again. No more - for now anyway - sleeping for 4 hours, then waking, brain cells scrambling and churning, worrying over each and every detail done or undone, left to do or yet forgotten. 

Second, and most physically obvious, there's about 4" of snow over everything. It started working its way in by late in the morning. Not snow, not yet, but much like an Arizona haboob, a big dust cloud on the leading edge of abrupt weather change, one bringing a lot of moisture. In AZ it's brown. Here it's white. It puzzled me. Didn't look like fog exactly. No arriving dumping of snow ever looked like that to me. So of course I asked and was informed what was arriving was salt, the dust left by a shrinking Salt Lake. So it's full of all the pollutants which get dumped by all the sewage systems which eventually flow downhill, and the most down hill of the geography here is the Lake. And still it shrinks. I found myself trying not to breathe.

It was after lunch that the first moisture started to fall. I can't say it was frozen yet, as looking through the window it was water as it hit the screens. But shortly it was seen to be falling bits of white, later growing into the old familiar snow of most of my life.  It began to accumulate, making the world clean, beautiful, and fairly soon, laden down. Branches drooped, ornamental grasses bent to kiss the hidden lawns, the shapes and colors that delineated my car on the street became jumbled lumps of white.

The camera came out of course. It's not that I haven't seen snow, but that it's been so long. And only now do I have a good camera to shoot it and make digital pictures. 

Morning gave a different side to the snow. The cold. The mess. The possibility of frozen water bottles and other beverage containers in the car, making a mess from being ignored. And of course, another forgotten "joy"of scraping snow and ice off everything so I could break into my own car to retrieve what I came out there to find. About half an hour later I finally got a door open. Turned out it had been so long since I'd had to fight iced doors I'd forgotten the need to make sure they were unlocked first. My electronic key system lasts about half a minute to unlock a car door, and if one hasn't opened it in that time, it reverts to locked. This was way past that time until I finally remembered the need. Much of the car was cleared of ice by then except for the roof, and I sat inside, turned it on, and waited for heat. Once we got some, water ran down windows and I had a clear second look at a very bent wiper blade which had previously been pulled from where it was stuck in ice. As soon as it was dropped on the windshield it was flat again, to my relief, but when puled up off, the curve returned. I left it down after that. Maybe it will straighten.

I'd gone out to the car to check for messes from liquids frozen overnight in ruptured bottles, as I am in the habit of traveling with bottled water. There was also pop in large bottles on the floor of the back seat. Finding all intact and liquid was a relief - another lesson relearned painlessly. Another reason was because Steve wished a trip to Walmart. Plus that I go through the car's contents to locate his heavy new winter jacket. It wasn't in the first couple places I looked, and by now I was on the point of shivering. I was in regular shoes and socks, plus a sweatshirt over the regular shirt. It was too cold for me to care to continue. In addition it was too slick for Steve's footware to give him traction on the snowy/slushy ground, and who knew what we'd find at a store parking lot? I arbitrarily shut the car off and decided for both of us that trip wasn't happening. We'd work around it.

Besides, breakfast was needed. And a warm blanket. And some unfrozen liquid. Maybe after that, taking Steve's rice sock, heating it in the microwave, and moving it over my legs to warm them up like it had done last night. I'd been cold all day yesterday before resorting to that. I didn't want to repeat that mistake again. There'd been enough others.