My Neighborhood: Not Much Of A Story, But The News Is Good

The economy has perked up around here and with it, the real estate market.  House sales are beginning to happen faster.  That is, houses are on the market for weeks now, instead of for months & months.

Neighbors who are selling their homes are sprucing up what they have, meaning that our street has looked exceptionally nice this spring.  And with the subsequent home sales, we have new younger, active neighbors.

This is a good thing, huh?

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I’m seeing lots of these now.

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I realized the foregoing as I was driving, very slowly, the long way home through our subdivision.  It dawned on me that as well as being outside on the move, many of our new neighbors are driving new cars.  Perhaps I’m overly aware of this sort of thing because I drive a 12 y.o. car, but I was kind of amazed.

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I’m not seeing any of these.

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The cars that I noticed weren’t fancy and/or sporty.  They were Fords or Toyotas or Hyundais, usually trucks or mini-vans or SUVs, middle of the line, practical.  But they were bright + shiny + new.

So that’s what’s up around here.  Not too exciting from a blog story-telling point of view, but encouraging from a midwest homeowners point of view.  Of which I am one.

You gotta take the happy where you find it, eh?

Curly Hair, Haircut Appointments & The Games I Must Play

I.  I have naturally curly hair. 

Only a few people know how to cut naturally curly hair so that it doesn’t turn into a frizzy, choppy mess.  In fact, I recently got one of those lousy haircuts, but that’s not the story I’m going to tell you here.

No, this story is about how it came to be that I needed to go to a different hair stylist than my usual one.  It is a story about how difficult it is to get an appointment with my usual hair stylist, who moved her business to Salon Lofts about two years ago.

II.  Here’s why.

As a client I book my appointments with my hair stylist online using the Salon Lofts easy, intuitive scheduler.  ‘Tis a breeze to use it.  Love it.

At first this process was easy and wonderful.  When I needed a haircut I’d go to my account online and look to see when my hair stylist had an opening.  Then I’d pick my appointment.

However, other deceitful clients have begun to take all the appointments that they think they might want.  For instance, if Little Miss Suzy Self-Absorbed likes to get her hair cut at a specific time on Wednesday afternoons, she’ll book all of those Wednesday afternoon appointments for months ahead.

Then, 24 hours before said appointment, our Little Miss Suzy Self-Absorbed will decide if this is the week she needs to get her hair cut, or not.  If she no longer wants the appointment, she’ll cancel it without financial penalty.

III.   This leaves me in a difficult situation.

Either I play this take-all-the-appointments-I-might-want-game, or I check online every morning to see if an appointment I can use has opened up for the next day.  Then I re-arrange my schedule to take advantage of it.

I’ve talked with my hair stylist about this scheduling situation, but here’s the thing: from her point of view this is not a problem.  After 30+ years of cutting hair she has an established clientele who will do anything to get an appointment, so she’s always booked with clients who show up.

Leaving me to play games to get an appointment.  And when that fails, forcing me to go to some other available hair stylist who, as this last cut would prove, ain’t so good at what she does.

A Week In Which A Mellow Bean Lets It Go

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I’m hiding in our home office this morning.  Adjacent to the foyer and away from the kitchen, it’s a room with French doors that I can close when need be.

Like today, for instance.

This is a morning when I’m trying to ignore the dreadful whiny motor sound of our dishwasher as it cleans the dishes.  Our dishwasher has, of late, become cantankerous.  Still doing that which is asked of it, but making certain that I know that it’s working hard to do so.

Old age affects us all in different ways, I suppose.

This week I’ve spent more time in the home office, or study as the builder referred to it, than usual.  Fortunately it’s a lovely room replete with my desk, my computer, a large over-filled bookcase, a funky old occasional chair and, of course, a potted pothos so that there’s another living organism in here with me.  It’s a writerly space.

From here I’ve watched this week’s happenings around Chez Bean.

I’ve overseen the AC being serviced, the windows being washed, the plumbing being inspected, the neighbor’s tree being cut down while using our driveway as a service road to get to their tree, and the gutters being cleaned out.

I’m exhausted from all of this work!  😉

But you see, that’s what’s going on around here.  Me, simply letting go, watching optimistically as other people and machines accomplish things.  While I research + write stories and essays that may, or may not, find their way into this blog.

If life is best lived by focusing on how you do things, then this week I’m one mellow positive bean, letting it all get done one way or another without my interference.

Come what may.

A Conversation In Which I Learn Something About E-book Readers, I Guess

Make no assumptions…

IT’S BEEN STORMY here this week.  Some days the sky has been as dark at 11:00 a.m. as it is at 11:00 p.m.  This weather phenomenon has been the talk wherever I go.

As you would imagine.

ONE THING THAT I’ve learned during these exceptionally dark mid-days is that my Kindle Paperwhite does what it claims that it’ll do.  That is, it automatically adjusts to the changing light conditions, making reading an easy pleasant experience.

I’m rather impressed by this.

SO I’M CHIT-CHATTING with two acquaintances, a man and a woman both in their early 50s.  And I mention, in passing, as a way of having something topical to say, that I’ve enjoyed my Kindle during these dark days.  And both of my acquaintances said: “what’s a Kindle?”

They did not know about e-book readers.  Any of them.

I WAS STUNNED, and started trying to explain what a Kindle is– what e-book readers are– how you use them– the different brands of them.  Et cetera, et cetera.  But while I talked, hoping to inform, these two seemingly normal people just stared at me like I was talking Martian gibberish.  Which to them, I was.

Can you even imagine? 

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[Hello FTC!  Please note: I’m opining here about an object that I bought with my own monies and just happen to like.  I received no compensation of any sort for this review, such as it is.  I mean really, who would pay me to say this?]