TubaOrNotTuba

What, when, where or with whom I eat shouldn’t be weather related, but it can be. This morning, despite (or in spite of) the rain, we went for breakfast. Our group was downsized, as some had decided to watch a local foot race. Slippery going, I imagine, what with mud and slick leaves. Another of our group, present and accounted for, was wearing a fancy body harness. Seems there had been an unplanned encounter with a tree, and as a result… well, suffice to assume that there was pain involved.

From my “I really don’t understand!” files. Vaping. When the president of those United States makes a speech about the new health risk, one has to pause and wonder. You see, I don’t have any urge to breathe air that is polluted. Not from the exhaust of a passing truck, and not from a small device that was designed (apparently) to wean people from self-inflicted injury. The last few weeks have brought reports of deaths by haze, and there’s no explanation coming along, other than that this is the latest in a frontal attack by the tobacco industry on individuals. Haven’t we put up with enough of their corporate nonsense? Please, don’t start, and stop if you already have: coming from one of the industry spokespeople, isn’t the message clear enough?

We found ourselves back at a familiar campground this afternoon. For years, we have gone camping at the same location, but what with a new house, and a new RV, and no real need to see if a tent is actually waterproof we’ve missed the last couple of summers.  There might be a chance to meet up with old friends in a couple of weeks, so today was an excuse to make reservations in person.

Can’t blame my appointment book, so I’m going to point a finger at the concept of time zones. We just spent the last seven weeks trying to reconcile our various e-gadgets with our progress across the continent. At one point, in order to make the display time on my iPad match my “local hour”, I had to lock the time parameter in the control panel. Didn’t think about it any more than that; when we got home, I started our house clocks and used the iPad as a time reference. Are you still with me? Our clocks were set to New York rather than Halifax… off by an hour.

My schedule, for most of the winter, was predicated by regular medical appraisals. Specifically, eyeball pressure, which can only be tested by extremely qualified individuals, available according to their schedules. Although, for the record, I’ve met a number of nurses that can provide the same level of accuracy, even if they aren’t allowed to record things. A glitch in the fabric of my universe.

If you watch network TV in NA, particularly comedy, you will develop an immunity to LT (that’s laugh tracks). No choice, unless you want to turn on subtitles and kill the sound completely. I’ve learned that the rest of the world doesn’t play by the same rules. Imagine having to choose your own moments to laugh!

Just as the Rolling Stones packed up to head out for another tour, one of the members needed maintenance. Heart surgery, allegedly. Now that he’s mending, the replacement dates are in preparation, which should remind us all: if you aren’t already a fan, you need to go in that direction. These guys intend to live forever. Do the math. Running in place for more than fifty years, and there are spare parts available.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve had a reason to go to the city. A minor one, but in winter, it takes something more than whimsy to get me out of the house. Today, another medical appointment. Minor. And the word that I do not need to return for another month. Well, that’s well timed. The snow is (almost) gone, and now I’ll need to think up real excuses if I want to see stoplights and restaurants.

I’m starting to figure out just how much wiggle room is allowed before someone is declared late for an appointment, locally. Today, we came in after the scheduled time, by about seven minutes and nary a frown was directed. I guess people accept that travel in snow season takes whatever time it takes.

On TV, the most recent iteration of “A Wrinkle In Time”, as seen through the eyes of a cinematographer; when I read the book, years ago, I had no idea that the storyline would affect anyone in this way. Guess I lack the critical eye.