Shhhhh, He's Sleeping

       Another day spent watching my grandson, who is napping right now as I write this.  In fact, I snuck in to take this picture a few minutes ago.  Of course, the flash going off woke him up but I just used it as an excuse to tuck him in better and let him drift back off to dreamland.

      Tuesdays are the day I watch my eldest grandson, Grant.  He's a cutie, isn't he?

       Hmmmm, looking at this picture too reminds me that I forgot to wash the peanut butter and jelly off his little mug after lunch.  *Sigh*  And he's not wearing his shirt because it got soaked when he and I were watering my vegetable garden out back.  His shorts are a little wet too but I figured his diaper probably works both ways, right?

       This is the fourth or fifth time I've watched him.  The first two times grandma Wendy helped to watch him to build my confidence.  It's been a long time since I've taken care of anyone under the age of three.

       I'm prepared though, having recorded 14 episodes of his favorite Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on the DVR.  We also usually visit what Grant calls "the castle", a large play structure at a local park.  Then the library is only a few blocks away, which has puppets, toys and large stuffed animals.  Books too but his interest in those usually lags behind.  We read one book today, which he picked out and happened to be the same book he picked out last time.  It's not even an interesting story.

      We also play outside, his favorite game being basketball.  I put his little basketball hoop up near the driveway so we both can shoot baskets, him with his little toy b-ball hoop and me with the backboard and net set up on the garage.  "I'm going to shoot three baskets," is his usual comment, though I don't understand why three is such an important number to him.  Heck, that wouldn't even put him in double figures if he were playing a real game.

      Then along comes a plane which is always interesting enough to interrupt play to check out.  And before long he's dragging out footballs, softballs, a volleyball . . . anything round that's involved with a sport.  And he likes me to turn my bike upside down so I can spin the wheels really fast.  Sometimes I'll press a cardboard flap against the tire or spokes to imitate the sound of a motorcycle.

      But I heard him say "Owwwww" after he put his own hand on the spinning wheel.  Guess I should have seen that one coming.  Bumpa's still learning.  At least he didn't try to grap the spinning spokes.  That would have been worse.

      Well, I best check on him again as I heard him whimper and stir.  I promised him a cookie or a donut if he took a good nap.  Nothing wrong with that, right?

     

     

     

My Bucket List

     Isn't he adorable?  That's my new grandson Luke in the picture.  He's actually a month old now but time seems to just fly by lately.  And I've been told that since I'm retired the time will go by even more quickly.  Somebody compared it to when you're getting to the end of a roll of toilet paper . . . you never seem like you have quite enough left but what's left goes quickly.

    I'll have to think of some better imagery.

    Today was my first day as an official retiree.  I cut the grass, paid some bills, converted some returnable bottles and stray coins into cash for my retirement piggy bank (I've got about $40 there), picked up the house, made the bed--which is my wife's only standing order since she's still working, and took a nap.

    I'm not sure why I ran out of energy to the point where I needed a nap, but then maybe that's why I felt I had to retire before I turn 60 later this month.  Anyway, I decided to start a bucket list of things I want to do before the toilet paper runs out completely.  Here's what I got so far.  And since traveling is my favorite pasttime, it weighs heavily on my list.

     1.  Go to Ireland.  We want to do this relatively soon, probably next year.  I like traveling and Wendy likes to travel to countries where English is spoken.  So this works for both of us.

     2.  Camp at Bahia Honda State Park in the Florida keys.  We've passed this park a couple times while driving to Key West and I think it just looks like paradise.

     3.  Camp at Disneyworld, hopefully with my grandsons.  Disneyworld has an area set up for guest campers, from tents to trailers.  We've stayed before in the Disneyworld hotels but I've always been interested in what a camping vacation at Disneyworld would be like.

     4.  Buy a camper.  Kinda goes with number 2 and 3 above.  That would be a major expense for a retiree but I think we'd make good use out of it, including . . .

     5.  Travel around the country, staying a week or several days in places where we've never been, particularly out west.

     6.  Take a Mediterranean cruise, one that would made extended port stops at Italy and other countries.  We're not big on cruises, but I think this one would work for us.

     7.  Not to be monotonous, but finally I'd like to take an adventure tour, one of those National Geogaphic expeditions,  Or something like it.  I teased Wendy about going to Antarctica, but I was just kidding.  Maybe the Galapagos or New Zealand.

      8.  Aside from traveling, or maybe as a side bar bucket, I'd like to publish a travel article, one that'd pay me a stipend of some kind.  Since writing has always been an avocation, I'd like to publish something in the fiction realm as well, something I also could get paid for.

      9.  Learn to golf.  I've never done it.  But I figure it's never too late to learn.

    10.  Miscellaneous.  There's a ton of home fix-it projects that await.  I'd also like to water ski again, something I haven't done in 30 or so years.  I've been looking for a new mannequin for my Halloween coffin for years.  Finding that would be worth a check-off of sorts.  I'd like to learn what my digital piano can do besides let me play simple songs.  And so on, and so on.

    Lots to keep me busy.  Maybe I should cut out the naps.

Retirement!

    Maybe it's something about turning 60 this year, or maybe it just feels like I've had enough of the salt mines, but I've given notice at work that I'm retiring.  Financial advisers seem to be pretty unanimous in feeling that my paltry 401k, or whatever it is, will not put me anywhere Millionaire Acres in the game of life, but as I noted in a Christmas letter a couple years back, what I need more than money right now is more time.

    I was hoping to make a low key exit.  Though I've worked at my place of employment for over 30 years and of course have made friends there, I just wanted to be the fellow to just ride off quietly into the sunset.  Just my style.

    Alas, I was asked to give a two-month notice and as soon as I did that, they posted my job--with my name next to it.  I wasn't expecting that.  So every day since, and I mean EVERY DAY SINCE, at least one person has come up to me with congratulations and the inevitable questions.  When is your last day?  Is Wendy retiring too?  What are you going to do?

     OK, my last day is April 30th.  Wendy is NOT retiring, despite having worked longer at the same place of employment (we actually commute to work together).  She's still younger than I am by about three years.

     And I don't know exactly what I'm going to do other than having promised to watch grandson number one for one day a week after grandson number two arrives.  And number two is due any day now.  I do have a to-do list at home that would easily carry me into the next century.  And I'm still young enough, I think, to try something else in life.  My bucket list includes publishing something in the fiction category.  Maybe I still can wax creative in my golden years.

     Anyway, I say goodbye to my work area pictured below.

  That's actually my desk on the right.  I share the office with a colleague who does much the same work I do.  He's just a little less neat.

  Though I won't be earning a steady paycheck anymore, I'm using the last few checks I'm getting to amass a little travel fund for the wife and myself.  Now to figure out where to go.  Maybe out to Washington DC to visit son number 2?  Or maybe eventually take another trip overseas, possibly to Ireland this time.  After our difficulties in Paris I kind of want to stay some place where they speak a reasonably recognizable version of English.

   Or maybe we'll just find that sunset when Wendy retires and ride off together.

Little Hiccoughs

   

 I've been AWOL from the blogosphere lately, mostly because my wife and I got a break from the frigid temperatures laying siege to Michigan with a trip south to sunny Florida.  As with the vast majority of our trips, I do all the planning so we can save a buck or two.  That means driving long hours while fighting traffic and fickle weather.

     But I can put up with a little hiccough here and there so long as we don't suffer any major catastrophes, which we didn't.

     Now check out the picture above.  That's an alligator at the Shark Valley Visitor Center in the Everglades sunning himself on one of the pedestrian walkways by the observation tower which you can see in the background.  He wasn't there when Wendy and I walked to the tower.  He sauntered out onto the walk while we were enjoying a 360-degree view of the grasslands.

     Our tram tour guide  tapped a stick loudly on the concrete, then prodded the gator himself with the stick, trying to urge him along.  The only response he got was a hiss from the recalcitrant reptile.  So we were directed to walk past him single file, which we did.

     Wendy went first.  She was worried that her exposed ankles, white as they were, would too closely resemble chicken meat.  But I was close by, ready to the tackle the alligator if he should try to pounce.  Or I could just get one heck of a photo first, then tackle the gator.

     Thankfully, the alligator was more interested in the sun then in the tourists passing by.

     Later on in our trip we attended the South Beach Food and Wine Festival.  This was the highlight of our Florida excursion and we spent dearly for the privilege of attending food demonstrations presented by celebrity chefs, even upgrading our tickets so we could sit close to the stage.

     But, another hiccough.  No sooner had we entered the festival when my wife was shooed away from the very seats I had paid so dearly for.  I confronted a festival worker, explained how I'd paid extra for the front row seats, and she relented, telling us to sit nearby so she could watch over us.

     By the way, this wasn't the first time I worried about these tickets.  Originally, the tickets were e-mailed to me and they disappeared from my in-box shortly afterwards.  Then I found out my e-mail account was hacked.  When I arrived in Miami Beach, I made my way to the box office and explained my concern that somebody else had printed off my tickets.  She gave me a fresh set of tickets and made it so these were the only ones that could be used for entry.

     So maybe the snafu occurred in the ticket exchange--I don't know.  But we got to sit in the second row for a presentation by Andrew Zimmerman, a well traveled culinary expert whose claim to fame partly rests on his consuming the genitalia of various animals.  No samples please!

     Before his show started, the festival organizer invited all those in the cheap seats to come forward and occupy the unoccupied seats in the premiere section.  What??!!  I paid beau coup bucks for these seats.  I wanted to stand up and shout, "No.  Go back, go back.  I forbid you to come forward"

     Then after Zimmerman was done, southern chef Paula Deen took the stage.  The general admission ticket-holders were told to vacate the premiere section.  A festival worker we had not encountered before started checking those seated around us to make sure they had the proper pass.  They all held up the lanyard which they had been given, but we had not.

     She then came to us, telling us to show her the special pass and when we told her we didn't have one, she  beckoned us to leave.

     *sigh*

     The alligator was easier to deal with.

Umhh, That Wasn't From Me

 Strange things have been occurring on my computer lately.  E-mail has been disappearing.  And at least one of my e-mail accounts has been hacked.  If any of my blogging buddies got an e-mail from me a while ago with the subject Dave T and a mysterious link, don’t click on the link.  I have no idea what clicking on it would do, but it can’t be good.

 

   (I know I should have put that warning out on a more timely basis but based on what I saw, very few people actually received that e-mail and the ones who did know better than to click on strange links in e-mails).

 

   I suspect the Chinese as the hackers, though why they would want to tamper with me personally is a mystery.

 

   My computer has been acting strange for a while, with inexplicable slowdowns and freeze-ups.  But I’d gotten used to that as a new normal.  I did the usual de-fragging and deleting unwanted files.  That seemed to help a little.

 

   Then about two weeks ago I ordered some expensive tickets to a charity food and wine festival in Miami, Florida.  I opted for the tickets to be sent to me on-line by e-mail so I could print them out.  They arrived fine but before I got a chance to print them, they flat out disappeared. 

 

    Of course I panicked.  There was a disclaimer that the tickets would not be replaced for whatever reason and they had cost me several hundred dollars.  I asked Yahoo to do a recovery in case I had accidentally deleted them.  Yahoo did do their recovery, but my e-mail with the tickets were still missing.

 

    Even more panicked, I telephoned the ticketing outfit and explained what happened.  No problem.  They just re-sent the e-mail with the tickets and I wasted NO time printing them out.  Even printed out two copies just in case.  It wasn’t long after that my computer began sending out the fake e-mails. 

 

    I changed my passwords to my e-mail accounts then checked my computer for viruses.  By jove, the scan discovered a few infections.  Hmmmmm, where was my anti-virus protection on that one?  Anyway, I cleaned my drives and hopefully all is well.  I guess if I get to Miami and find out that some couple have already claimed my spots at the food and wine festival with my original tickets,   I’ll know what happened to my original e-mail. 

 

     And if I run into that couple with my tickets I can guarantee what will happen down there.  FOOD FIGHT!!!

     Just to show this blog is being posted by the real me, I attached the photo below of a new piggie bank I got for Christmas.  All those who know me know that I'm a big-time Michigan fan.

    Isn't he too cute?  

 

A (hard) Christmas Carol Quiz

     My extended family had their annual holiday get-together this past weekend.  I was in charge of the games.   Since I enjoy Christmas carols, I made up the fill-in-the-blank carol quiz below.  It turned out to be fairly difficult.  How many do you think you could get . . .


     By now you've probably heard the same Christmas carols so many times you know them by heart.  Here's a chance for a payoff.  Each lyric below is taken from a popular Christmass carol but one word is missing.  Just fill in the missing word.  If there is more than one blank in any lyric, the same word is used in each blank.  If that isn't easy enough, the missing word is also in the title of the song. 


__________ was sure this was the end when the baron cried out, “Merry Christmas, my friend.”




It’s not Christmas without _____________. All the family’s dressed in black.



Santa can’t bring me what I need, cause all I want for Christmas is ________



Santa ________, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring.



Christmas _________ is here. Happiness and cheer.



_________ ___________ _____________ _____________. Born is the King of Israel.



Said the little lamb, to the shepherd boy, do you ______ what I ________.



To go gliding in a one horse-sleigh, Giddy-up _______ horse, pick up your feet.



It’s time we hung some tinsel on that evergreen bow, for I’ve grown a ________ leaner.



What if spring is late, it’s a sugar date. In winter it’s a ______________ world.



_______ bells, _________ bells, It’s Christmas time in the city.



I'm handing you no blarney the likes you've never known, It’s Christmas in _________ with all of the folks at home.



And when the ________ snowflakes start falling, that’s when those _________ memories start calling.

        How'd you do?  The winner in our family got nine right with a five-minute time limit on the quiz.  And nobody got the last one correct.

If Life Were Simple

     So I'm chatting on-line with Chandrakath, a customer representative for the photo book publishing site Snapfish.  I'm wondering why, after spending over two hours putting together my photo book, I can't pick it up at my local Meijer store like the e-mail Meijer sent me said I could.

     Now, Snapfish wants to charge me over $40 for a photo book that I thought would only cost me $15 max.  Chandrakath does some quick research on his/her end and finds out that I am trying to order the custom photo book.  Only the classic photo book qualifies for the discount with local pick-up.

    OK.  Wonder why that little detail couldn't have been explained in the e-mail.  But no matter, it's not that difficult to turn my custom photo book into a classic photo book.  I spend some more time doing that, but when I go to check out and order my book, again it's not giving me the option of picking it up at my local Meijer.  And the price is still close to $30.

    So I click the button to start another on-line chat with Snapfish.  This time Durga responds to my inquiry.  I tell him/her my quandary, he/she does some quick research on his/her end (somehow, I don't think that end is here in the U.S.), and he/she says that I used a photo book specialty theme that costs extra and is not available for pick-up either.

     *sigh*  Again, why couldn't Meijer have told me that little detail IN THEIR E-MAIL!  Argggghhhh.

     Life is much more simple when I'm with my grandson Grant.  I babysat him for an afternoon a while back.  He likes to play with cars on the floor.  Nothing complicated.  In fact, Grant gives me the simplest tiny plastic toy car that he calls, "Bumpa's car."  Meanwhile, he takes for himself this bigger, fancier car that makes a engine-type noise as he pushes it across the floor.   He enjoys driving our cars over furniture, into the kitchen, back into the family room, until he gets bored and ready to move on to something else.    

     

 We go outside to throw a plush football around.  He enjoys that, but pretty soon his attention is distracted by a jet high overhead, leaving a snowy white vapor trail in its wake.  "Plane," he says.  Then after another little bit, he points out, "Moon," faint but still visible in the late afternoon.  We go around to the front yard and he inspects the tires of our mini-van.  "Wock (rock)", he says, showing me a little pebble embedded within the tire treads.

     Soon he's ready to go inside again whereupon he grabs the TV remote control and hands it to me.  "Mickey Mouse clubhouse," he suggests.  It's his favorite show.  His dad Greg says Grant can spot Mickey Mouses everywhere now (how does Disney engage these youngsters so?).   Greg says he was in a store recently, turned into an aisle and Grant said, "Mickey Mouse."  Greg says he stood for five minutes looking around before he spotted the mouse's mug on a coffee cup.

Ah, planes, cars and Mickey Mouse.  If only we could live our lives so simply.