Yesterday I had a marathon telephone conversation with a friend. We do that. We'll go weeks without talking, then catch up with a double-header (with extra innings). One of the topics of yesterday's conversation was new technology. In our younger days, both of us would jump at the chance to learn a new computer program, or put together a shed from a kit, or figure out how to program a thermostat; now, we both would rather not be bothered; we want out-of-the-box full functionality.
I thought about our conversation last night when I looked over and saw the box containing the new trail cam I bought for The Husband for Father's Day. I chose that model because of its Bluetooth and wi-fi capabilities, thinking it would help us catch the armadillos that dig up our yard at night. The problem has been that no one can figure out how to program the blasted thing. It's supposed to send the pictures to The Husband's cell phone, but the phone and the cam wouldn't recognize one another. The Husband had even given a teenager a shot at setting it up, and he couldn't figure it out, either. It seemed hopeless.
But I really, really want to watch the raccoons try to get into the new compost bin.
And so I picked up the camera box and had a go at setting it up, myself.
Took me more than an hour, with the camera, the instruction manual (which was written by a non-English-speaking person), and The Husband's cell phone all spread out on the couch.
Tonight I shall put food scraps in the compost bin. <evil grin>
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We got a good, slow rain yesterday afternoon, enough to melt the fertilizer I put down in the garden two days ago.
I gave myself the day off from work yesterday, and spent the morning working in the garden. Tomato worms have found the tomato plants. It's supposed to rain all weekend, so there wasn't much use in spraying bug spray. I stomped half-a-dozen of the little monsters, and probably missed a dozen more. All afternoon, I imagined the worms I missed, chomping away on the plants, getting bigger by the minute. Maybe they'll be a little easier to spot today.
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I wrecked my car in Nanny's yard Thursday night.
Yep.
I'd come home with a 50 pound bag of lime and a 40 pound bag of fertilizer. It did not occur to me that I could pull the yard wagon to the driveway to get the bags. Instead, I drove my car across Nanny's yard and parked it close to the shed, so The Husband and I wouldn't have so far to carry the bags. We used some of the fertilizer right from the back of the car. It was almost dark when we left the garden.
My car doesn't have a back-up camera, but as I backed up to turn around, I could see the tree trunk in my rear-view mirror. What I did not see was the limb that was *not quite* above the roof of the car. I ended up punching a big dimple in the side of the car, high up, between the rear side window and the hatch. *sigh*
What a pain, eh?
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