Adventures With Dear Miss Mermaid Child Of The Planet: 42 Effing Degrees

The blue highlights are actually links in this blog, one day I shall figure out how to make them stay underlined.

Hundreds of Windmills in northern New York. Who'd a thunk it?

I woke up at 4:22am, to discover it is 42F degrees in northern New York. My electric mattress warmer had kept me from noticing the coldness, until I got up. Brrr... I went back to bed.

I'm trying to write this blog, but my AT&T air card, shuts down every few minutes, in spite of the 5 bar excellent reception. This is super annoying. I don't recommend AT&T for mobile internet, it's a disaster. Their Customer Care department should be renamed Customer Frustration. Calling them for anything other than paying your bill, leaves one on a lengthy hold of 10-60 minutes, followed by employees that read incredibly slowly from a corporate manual, trying to frustrate said customer until you feel like screaming.

I had a $36 erroneous surcharge on my bill. I was entitled to a refund. It took me 11 phone calls and about 7-8 hours of my time to get that $36 credit. I think they do this to us hapless consumers, in hopes we just give up and pay the $36 out of sheer frustration. My mounting medical bills which are piled up on my credit cards, which in turn are piling up horrendous interest charges, equals to the fact I am on a teeny tiny budget, so $36 is a helluva lot of money to me these days. I can't just let it go by, because AT&T feels entitled to slap erroneous charges on my bill, then frustrate the sheer hell out of me, while I try to get a refund.

The windmills seemed rather new, yet no evidence of the underground wiring installation.
At least, I assume they must connect by wires to an electric plant somewhere.

If anyone out there in cyber world knows how to deal with this awful company, clue me in. I am under a nasty two-year contract, which I would love to break. Seems to me since they are providing me very little service, I should be entitled to break the contract without ruining my credit rating.

One day AT&T kept me on the phone for nearly two hours before admitting the reason my internet was disconnecting all the time, was because their tower in my area was faulty. Hello? Couldn't they have told me that to start with? Why was I transferred to five departments and eight people and forced to listen to them instruct me to change 42 settings on my computer, only to be told, nearly two hours later, "Oh, I see our tower is malfunctioning in your area. It's scheduled for repair next Thursday."

Another time they told me my equipment was faulty and needed replacement. So I asked them to replace it under warranty. It was only bought in May and this was June or July when I was talking to them. They told me my warranty was no good because their records indicated I was sold "used" equipment. I explained I bought NEW equipment at their AT&T store, was charged the new equipment price, it came in a new box, and came with a new warranty. But AT&T says I was sold "used" equipment and therefore the warranty is invalid. I was aghast!

Robbed by AT&T.

Little old me against the big bad corporation.

Autumn has begun to show her colors in northern New York.

After living in the Caribbean for 22 years, then coming to America, I might as well have slept through a coma for a two decades, then woke up. So much has changed in the USA. Is it my imagination or does much of the younger generation seem less educated? Have they all relied on computers and technology to the point they can't even think anymore, or is the education system in crisis?

Maybe it's me and my tolerance for idiots is at an all time low.

The language has changed a lot. "Customer Service" is now "Customer Care". Restrooms are now referred to as "Comfort Stations".

I was looking over a state park map. In several areas, it had a little box with the words "Comfort Station" written by it. I thought, wow, this park must have brutal hiking trails. I was curious what the heck "Comfort Stations" were when I finally found one. It was a bathroom.

An "accident" is a "safety critical event". Companies don't hire in their personnel department, it's now "Human Resources." A hand operated tool is now a "human interface device".

Help! I am lost!

OK, on for more foolishness...

Yesterday for the first time ever, I was a passenger in my motorhome. I let my friend become the "human interface". That was very strange. I was sore and tired, but my friend wanted to travel, so I handed over the keys. I told him everything I knew about driving The Beast. That didn't take long *giggle* but there are so many things to remember about driving it, that are different from a car. Mainly, that we are 28 feet long and 11 feet high, weighing in at about 6 tons.

Walking rather than driving, gives me plenty of opportunity to enjoy unique sights.

We're heavy, so it can't be handled like a lightweight car. Sudden erratic maneuvering are not for The Beast. Save that for the little hot sports cars. Right turns take extra work, so as not to take out the street signs or utility posts or hit the curb. Lane changes on multiple lane highways, need to be anticipated far in advance because other drivers often have the dangerously annoying habit of flooring their accelerator to pass us, as soon as you flip on a turning indicator light. One second they are far behind us, so it appears we have plenty of room to change lanes, then suddenly they are pedal-to-the-metal, racing up in our blind spot, as soon as they see the turning indicator go on.

Some cars will speed around The Beast, then cut in front of me, so close, I think they have just shaved the road dust off my bumper. Even more perplexing, is when someone races around to pass me, just to slow down again, so that I have to stand on the brakes, to keep from mowing them down.

Another name was submitted for "Name My Motorhome" . The new entry is "Rose Road", a play on my old jeep name of "Rose Royce".

I still refer to the motorhome as "The Beast" until I settle on a permanent name. Now if I could just learn how to keep things from banging around when I set off down the road.

We had the skinny bottle of combo soy and olive oil jump the fiddle on the condiment shelf, land in the floor and spill. Fortunately, we were able to clean that mess up before it became an environmental disaster.

While leaving Lampe Marina and campground on Lake Erie, the other day, I was driving, when I heard a bang, looked in my rear view mirror and noticed the full sized entry door, on the side of the motorhome, had opened up. My friend leaped out of the passenger seat to run secure the door and lock it with the deadbolt, for good measure. Since then, we always drive with it locked. I have no idea what went wrong, I guess we didn't shut it tightly. The bumpy road I was on, jiggled it loose.

About 100 miles down the road, we realized our water-pressure restriction valve was left attached to the water faucet at Lampe Marina on Lake Erie. So if you are in the neighborhood, take it, you can have it. The valve prevents erratic water pressure from a campground from becoming too high and busting out the plumbing. I've read this has happened to other motorhomes in some places. One came with my motorhome, so I typically use it, that is until I forget to take it with me.

When the entry door banged open, I was so grateful that I had puppy tethered inside. Imagine if he had tumbled out of the door and under my rear tandem wheels. I would have had a pancake for a puppy with a mountain of tears for syrup. Yes, I keep my little puppy dog tethered on a safety leash that is attached to the motorhome, whenever I am traveling. I certainly don't plan on a wreck, but if I had one, I don't want puppy flying through a windshield, nor running off in terror.

When I first came back to America, I was traveling with my beloved pet, my cat of 9 years. I stupidly lost him through misadventure, on the way from the airport. I have cried buckets of tears for him and spent a fortune trying to locate him. I am still enormously sad about losing him.

Afterwards, it seems everyone tried to give me a cat to comfort me, but I was far too distraught. I want my old cat back, my Lil Bear. He was very healing for me and not surprisingly, my health took a severe dive. I wanted him to comfort me. I couldn't take on another cat, I wanted him back.

Months later, I dreamed about this goofy little dog. Throughout my life, some of my dreams have been visions of the future. I have no idea why. That afternoon, I rescued my little ugly mutt and named him Harley. He looked just like the startling dog in my dream the night before. He is nothing like a cat at all. I have had dogs before, but they were big dogs. This dog is barely 4 or 5 pounds. He will be 9 months old next week.

I was told he was born Christmas Day 2009, that he is half toy poodle and half Chihuahua. That makes him a poohuahua.

He's been with me almost four months now. While he in no way replaces the big empty hole in my heart from losing Lil Bear, my beautiful loving cat, he does bring me great comfort and joy. He also keeps me exercising daily, no matter how bad the pain is, I get out and walk a good bit every day. Harley loves to walk, run and play. He is getting the hang of traveling so much, slowly learning the mountain of things I aim to teach him.

He is getting used to the idea, that his inside home travels and his outdoor play yard, changes often. He had no training for the first 5 months of his tiny life, so I have had to work diligently with him. He still has loads to learn, but he is a joy to have in my life. He was severely malnourished, his body had very thin dull fur and his bones were apparent. I've tried my best to nurture his body and soul. I think his early feeding habits may have permanently stunted him in some areas, it seems his body may never catch up to his new longer legs, but he does have boundless energy now.

I've come a long, long, ways since leaving the hospital, but I still long for boundless energy too. Some days are just better than others. But they are ALL good!