Thursday

It's been a while since I had a contemplative day. One where I could indulge in, well, retirement nothingness. Trivial stuff that brings satisfaction, even if it is inconsequential. Today is a grandkid day of course, but I did think I could spend the morning... idly. 

Until the internet stopped working, right around midnight. Maybe earlier. It was still off in the morning. No problem! -- says Nina. I have a mobile phone hotspot!

Except that I changed payment plans last month to lower my cost and up the data usage and it turns out... that the new plan doesn't come with a hotspot. All this led Ed to wonder what kind of stupid plan I had signed onto anyway. 

There goes the morning.

And by the way, the weather is still stinky bad and I was glad that Ed was up and about early, trying to fix the Internet. He did animal duty for me. I stayed home and brooded.

Changing your phone plan is right up there with doing taxes. You have to have your smarts with you, avoiding the pitfalls, lures and secret traps. You must know what you need and what data you've used over the past 12 months. Ed pushed for switching service providers. "Your people are doing so badly I wouldn't be surprised if they soon went out of business!" -- is his assessment of my current service (ATT, are you listening?) I rolled my eyes and stayed loyal. I mean, I can hear people talk from all parts of the house. Give me a break, I'm not switching. 

We talk about phones and grandkids over breakfast.

The grandkids topic may seem like a refreshing change from cell phone service providers, but in this case, BOTH topics just make me feel like I am about three decades past my prime. I was telling Ed how much I missed Snowdrop's winter love of colorful skirts, now that she has gone kid-punk. His comment -- flowered skirts? My, you sound like a really old grandmother.

He's right, of course. I sound right up there with those who, once upon a time, would have said long hair on boys looks messy and nail polish should never move away from pearly pinks. Is that me? It cannot be!

I remember how much I loved my jeans in the decade when jeans on girls were such an affront to feminine sensibilities, whatever those were. I did not care. I was okay with affronting sensibilities. (One could argue that wearing shorts all summer here, at the farmette, even past age 70 is also an affront to sensibilities. I don't care. I wear them anyway.) Still, accepting that one granddaughter is already stepping into her own dress code comes with the realization that she, and soon all the others, will soon be in her own world of ideas about her life. My flowers and swirls of color on a full skirt may not suit her tastes now. She is her own, in this case, according to her, punk person.

(Pick up)

As for the phone stuff -- three hours. That's how long it took to finally give up on talking to my difficult service provider (ATT, that's you!) to track down a better plan -- one that they have advertised on their website, but (what a surprise!) they now know nothing about, if you call them. Finally, from them: oh you want that one! That's only for new customers... At that point, I threw down my phone. Ed picked it up and said -- dont give up! Switch services for a day and then come back as a new customer! That is indeed something Ed would do. But not Nina, who is, in Ed's opinion, so risk averse that she would not dare shuffle things around like that (and risk losing her phone number!) to save $15 per month. Indeed, in the end, I stuck with what's there. Meaning -- the morning on all this accomplished absolutely nothing except the recognition that throwing down the phone does not break it, so long as you throw it down on soft carpet.

Somewhere, in the thick of all this, Ed and I went out for a neighborhood walk. We needed the movement! And it was blustery, and sometimes, there was a sprinkle, but it felt so good to be outside again, away from screens and plans, and automobiles. Just us and the elements of a brisk April day.

(snow? mostly gone now... perhaps until next December!)