There's gold in the fountain...

For weeks now, I've been meaning to get some goldfish for the fountain in the front yard. Friends and neighbors have told me that the fish will eat up all the algae and keep the base of the fountain clean. With all the gardening work that C has done in the flowerbeds for the past couple of years, I thought it would be nice to have those fish swimming around in the fountain, for nothing more than to keep it cleaner than it usually is, and to keep the frogs company.

Off to the fish farm I went, which isn't too far from where we live. Did they have goldfish?  Small ones for a fountain, not steroid-sized for a lake?  "Sure do, ma'am... take a looky right over here." And there they were, hundreds and hundreds of goldfish swimming around in a concrete tank shaded by an aluminum awning... and not a speck of algae in sight.

The man told me the fish were one dollar each, or 12 for $7.00.... well, a dozen seemed about right for the base of the fountain which is about four feet in diameter and a bit over two feet in depth. Out came the net, and the man tossed back the smaller ones and gave me the larger goldfish, each one about the length of my hand from wrist to finger-tip.  The fish got put into a water-filled plastic bucket, and then got poured into a plastic bag, like we used to get at those church carnivals years ago.

"There y'all go..... you might lose a few to the egrets or raccoons that might could see them in your fountain, but just come on back and we'll catch you some more."  I took the plastic bag and only just then realized that I would have to put them into my car to get them home. Live fish? In my car? Was the plastic bag thick enough? Would the bag of fish be better off in the truck (with the treasures I'd just bought at the shops in town) or should I put them on the floor of the passenger side?  My car is a small two-seater which has never had anything spilled on the seats or the carpeting, and the last thing I wanted was slippery goldfish somehow getting out of that bag during the drive home.

I put the bag on the floor of the car in front of the passenger seat, propping up the bag with my purse and just hoped for the best. The ride down the main highway towards home was fine... straight path all the way. But then I got to our road and as I made the right turn, I didn't even think that the plastic fish-filled bag would move... but my purse went over on its side, and the bag of fish went rolling from one corner of the passenger-floor to the other. Thankfully, the goldfish gods were watching, and the bag didn't spring a leak and no goldfish were harmed in the turning process. However, I may have gotten six new gray hairs (glitter, really) after that turn.

As soon as I pulled into my driveway, I got the scissors from the gardening bin and carried the goldfish to the front yard.... slit the top of the bag and poured both water and goldfish into the base of the fountain. I did, however, make a quick stop on the back porch, put the bag of fish on the table, and snapped a photo of the captured fish. I sent the picture to my cousin F up on Long Island, and to my husband at work. (I told my husband in the eMail--- "Congratulations! It's a boy, and a girl, and more boys, and more girls... a dozen in all!)"

The fish are now happily swimming in the fountain, coming up to the surface to take a peek at their new location, and the resident frogs have also come up for air and are probably right now thinking "There goes the neighborhood..."  One frog was perched up on the rim of the fountain base and when he saw me walking on the porch he dropped back into the water, so I guess he's okay with his new underwater neighbors.

I'm hoping that our outside cat Mickey stays away from the fountain and doesn't try to catch himself a golden snack. And the same goes for the local raccoons, possums, hawks and egrets.

As for that goldfish picture that I sent to my cousin F.... who believes that if you have a pet, or a stray animal that you're feeding on a regular basis, or any living breathing thing that you're taking care of, it needs a name. A real name, not just 'that gray cat' or 'that goldfish with the white spot.'

Within ten minutes of sending F that goldfish photo, she shot back an eMail to me with the names for the twelve new residents of the fountain:   Nemo, Orca, Jaws, Flipper, Chips, Shrimpie, Gortons, Schooner, Ferry, Arthur Treacher, Goldie, and Fluffy.  I read her eMail and just could not stop laughing.  By the way, Arthur Treacher's is the name of a fast-food fish restaurant up on Long Island, and as for Fluffy... there's no explanation for that one.

AT&T Madness

I should have known something was wrong because I hadn't written out a check to AT&T in two months, not since my husband ordered the iPad for me in late January. I chalked up the bill-less months to the possibility that my husband changed the billing system and had the charges posted to his credit card, like we do with the television service. However, I kept forgetting to ask him about that. I've been too busy with my iPad, and my books.

But then, late this past Friday, my husband started forwarding me all the eMails that AT&T was sending to his computer. He thought they were advertisements, and he forwarded them to me because they were in my name, which is how that account had originally been set up. But how did they get his eMail address? And what happened to the paper bills that came in the mail every month?  Turns out that the notices being sent to my husband's computer were past-due bills for January and February. What?!

I called AT&T up immediately on Friday, but of course the billing offices were closed and all I got was a robotic voice at the other end of the phone telling me to speak up and speak clearly. Give me a blessed break. I do not like talking to machines because every machine one speaks to has taken a job away from a human being. And don't even get me started on that.

After trying on Saturday and Sunday to pay that over-due AT&T bill on-line with a credit card, I finally, finally was able to do that late last night.  It would have been taken care of sooner than that but during the 'live chat' with an AT&T person, my computer decided to do updates and shut itself down. What?!  I decided to try again last night and wonder of wonders, it worked and I used a credit card to pay the over-due charges.

This morning, however, I called AT&T to get things straightened out. Where were the paper bills that came in the mailbox? And why are messages being sent to my husband's eMail and not to mine? And why do I have to talk to a robot for ten minutes before a real person gets on the line? And, most importantly, why are there so many pass-codes and entry numbers and passwords and ID codes?! Why can't they just ask for my mother's maiden name and the last four digits of my Social Security number, like they did back in the blessed day?

The young man I spoke to this morning was very nice, and very patient, but while he was eMailing the pass-codes to my husband's computer, our cat Sweet Pea got up the stairs because I forgot to close the door when I went up there to tell my husband to check his eMail so I could give the AT&T guy the 7-digit number that he just sent. At the same moment, Savannah started barking because our handyman pulled up into our driveway, and the little bell on the oven started dinging because the rolls I had put in there for breakfast were ready. In between all of that madness, I have the AT&T guy on the phone asking me why I didn't take advantage of their latest promotion plan and purchase an iPhone so I wouldn't have "just a flip-phone."  The AT&T guy also told me about a promotion for their latest television connections and tablets for live-TV streaming and iBooks.  I told the nice young man that we don't watch a lot of TV because my husband is always on the computer and I read books. "Oh.... you can get the latest best-seller releases on a Kindle," he told me.  No. I read books. Real books. With pages. And a bookmark.  "Bookmarks?" he said.  Give me a blessed break.

When that 20-something AT&T guy asked me how old the flip-phone was, I resisted the urge to tell him that my ancient flip-phone was probably older than he was. But I couldn't say that because there he was at the AT&T billing offices, promising to fix their settings so I would once again get a paper bill every month in the mailbox, and he said he would put my eMail back on their contact list so my husband wouldn't have 17 un-read eMails saying that our phone bill was past due.

By the end of that phone call, Savannah had quit barking at the handyman, I had found Sweet Pea underneath the bed and brought him back downstairs, the rolls were taken out of the oven before they got over-baked, and AT&T re-set our telephone account so I will get paper bills in the mail so I can send them a check, and my iPad has the correct pass-code and I'm sure the young man at the billing office has already told his co-workers about his first customer of the day who still has an old flip-phone and reads old-fashioned paper books.

This was not a good way to start the day. Give me a blessed break.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

I never did get around to putting out the St. Patty's Day decorations.... and most of them have been brought to my booth in the antique shop anyway.  I had planned to make Irish Soda Bread yesterday, but I got caught up in a book of plays by Paddy Chayefsky and there went the afternoon. (Chayefsky is calorie-free, compared to the bread.) Maybe the Easter decorations will come out of the storage closet next month. Possibly. Maybe.

As I type, the latest (and best, so far) handyman is power-washing the back deck. E has been working here for over a month now, maybe longer.... the to-do list is getting shorter with each of his visits, and my husband is pleased with his work. There is a handyman god after all. Except for the day when his cell phone fell out of his pocket and got shredded by the riding mower, we think that E has liked working here as much as we like having him here.

The bluebonnets have been popping up in huge patches all over the fields, and within the next couple of weeks there will be picture-taking motorists riding along all the back roads in search of the perfect spot for their annual bluebonnet portraits. I hope that they at least check underneath the wildflowers for ant hills and snakes before they tell their children to sit in the grass.

We took Savannah for a ride out into the surrounding towns for some bluebonnet-searching the other day.... she loves the car and we can't even say that word unless we're planning to take her with us. I don't know if it's the car ride she likes, or just being with us instead of staying at home.  We found a small park in the town of Independence and we parked the car, thinking we would let Savannah walk around with us on her leash. There weren't many people there, but the ones who were had lots of little children who were playing and singing and just having fun being kids on a sunny day. Well, Savannah heard the noise of the kids and she wouldn't get out of the car. She just cowered in the corner of the back seat and wouldn't move. We didn't make her get out of the car, poor thing. There are times when the smallest thing either immobilizes Savannah, or sends her fleeing towards the house. Memories of her 'lost' days in the Spring of last year. I don't think I will ever forget those horrible 12 days, and apparently, neither will Savannah. The people across the road continue to be extremely loud at times... a constant reminder of their thoughtlessness.

My iPad (Gatsby) and I continue to learn new things every day. I've discovered "Words With Friends" and have on-going Scrabble-like games with people I don't know. I have Savannah's Facebook photo on the 'Words' game, and I've played with another woman who has posted her dog's photo instead of her own. Right now, the two dogs are in the midst of a game, and Savannah is winning. So far. I bought one of those rubber-tipped Stylus things to use with Gatsby, which makes moving the letter-tiles around the board much easier. I thought by now that my husband would want his own iPad, but he swears that he doesn't want a computer to fit in his pocket because he's on the computer all day long anyway and doesn't want to be able to take it on-the-go.

The barn swallows have started coming back to the porch. Just when we thought the porch columns would be free of bird-poop, they have re-discovered the sheltered spots around this porch. Oh well.... more baby birds to watch as they hatch and sit on the edges of the nests as they wait for their wings to develop enough to let them fly.

March 17th.... Happy St. Patrick's Day... to those who are Irish, and to those who wish they were, if only for a day.