First the facts:
A) I wasn't born with a mouse in my hand.
B) My mother scarred me for life when she said, "Mary Patricia, don't touch the rabbit ears."
C) I tend to attempt fixes first and read instructions later.
Recenty I purchased a second computer since the first was unable to handle both Creative Suite and Revit. My old computer has a Logitech mouse with a receiver that plugs into a USB port. It works fine except that occasionally I hit the receiver on something that causes the port to loosen. Now that that computer is no longer under warranty, I have to be extra careful.
For my new computer I decided to purchase a Logitech Bluetooth mouse. Referring to A above, I must admit that for all I know Bluetooth is a tribe of little pixies inside my computer that work their little magic in ways unknown to me. I don't mind sharing my computer with little whisps of spirits as long as they hold up on their end of the bargain and work. However, last week they went on strike.
Since I suffer from a morbid fear of things electronic, thanks to dear old mom and our 1960 television set (see B above), I am at quite a loss when it comes to handling out-of-whack computer issues. In fact, had I not already spent 45 minutes this week with the men at the UA computer store on other computer issues, I might have ventured a phone call. But frankly, I'm tired of introducing myself as "that middle-aged woman who doesn't know a thing about computers but who can work rather proficiently with some of the software" when I call them for help. They know who I am by that introduction. This time I was going to attempt to remedy the problem myself.
Of course, my first thought on the matter is that I was in need of pixie juice, batteries, that is. After trying a dozen batteries or so, I decided that the problem wasn't with my mouse but with out-of-date batteries. Bill purchased a gazillion new AA batteries from Sam's Club last night, but sadly that wasn't the problem.
Recalling C above, it was now time to employ the benefits of not one but two baccalaureate degrees and research the issue on the Internet myself. I learned that my V470 mouse suffers a frequent failure to connect to the computer. Aargh, I had bought a lemon! I lamely tried the fixes that were offered, but nothing worked. It was late, so I decided to unistall and reinstall the next day.
Having made that decision, I was still in the mood to play on my computer. I am teaching myself the finer points of Photoshop and am learning Illustrator for the first time. However, it was late and I wasn't that serious about undertaking either of those tasks. Instead, I clicked on the Start Button and noticed for the first time time a file called Getting Started. Hmmmm, maybe I should have checked into this when I first got my computer! Yes, well, remember C above. When I got to the Personalize Windows section, I noticed there was a section on the mouse. Well, don't you know that there was a tab under the Change Mouse Pointers entitled Bluetooth. And there, hidden away was the Connect button. Well, I clicked that button and then I clicked the Connect button on the mouse itself, and voila', I solved the problem. Myself. And don't you know, it was a different remedy from what the experts were telling me on the Internet.
I feel quite brilliant at the moment. Well done, Tricia! Maybe those two degrees finally paid off!
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Daisy and the snow
Daisy is 16 1/2 years old and suffers from terrible arthritis. Her arthritis is so severe that she is unable to get herself up from the wood floors because they are too slippery.
When she was younger she always sought out the sunbeam while Corbie was the dog who preferred winter snowfalls. We were surprised this year to find that Daisy actually enjoys the snow. Besides, the snow provides an unexpected source of traction for her wobbly legs.
Here is Daisy at night. Look at the little smile on her face. Obviously, snow not only brings out the kid in us but the puppy, as well!
A Winter Wonderland
On Thursday evening our latest round of winter weather began--first rain, then sleet, then snow. Unlike last year's ice storm, however, there were no fallen trees in our yard and we lost power for only a minute or two. In addition, the sleet was followed by snow and an arctic blast of cold air which means that Friday's snow is still here today, Sunday.
On Friday, Bill and I ventured out to get yet another installment of the Dexter TV series at our neighborhood Blockbuster, about a mile away. We walked. It was really quite fun, but when we returned Bill asked me what had happened to my eyes. Apparently, the snow washed away my mascara which made me look a little like Brett Favre (old, retired, and with the anti-glare smudges under the eyes). Funny, my mom never told me not to put on makeup before I went outside to play in the snow.
It was indeed a good weekend to play in the snow. Near our house someone decided to erect a Darth Vader snowman.
And next door to Darth was this snow sculpture. It reminds me of Botero's sculptures.
This was the view outside our back door. It gives you an idea of how much snow fell.
By yesterday afternoon, the sun came out. It's hard to see, but the sun was reflected on the snowy treetops. It was very pretty.
By this morning, fog had fallen over our yard.
The following picture was taken on Thursday after some sleet had fallen but before the snow started.
The following sets of pictures were taken Sunday morning during the frosty fog event.
In the pictures above and below you can see the ice crystals from the ice fog.
The following picture was taken at Gulley Park from the little footbridge.
We went to 9:00 am Mass this morning when the ice fog was most dense. Below is the view from the church parking lot. There's a red sled in the foreground but not much is visible from the background.
After Mass the fog had begun to lift, but not before it left these beautiful ice crystals on the trees. The following photo was again taken in the church parking lot.
I think these trees are just spectacular.
Incidentally, our church has replaced only two of the four side windows with stained glass. It's not a very Catholic thing to have clear glass windows, but when you can see God's creation from the pews I find it very moving. I hope they don't change out the other two windows too soon.
On Friday, Bill and I ventured out to get yet another installment of the Dexter TV series at our neighborhood Blockbuster, about a mile away. We walked. It was really quite fun, but when we returned Bill asked me what had happened to my eyes. Apparently, the snow washed away my mascara which made me look a little like Brett Favre (old, retired, and with the anti-glare smudges under the eyes). Funny, my mom never told me not to put on makeup before I went outside to play in the snow.
It was indeed a good weekend to play in the snow. Near our house someone decided to erect a Darth Vader snowman.
And next door to Darth was this snow sculpture. It reminds me of Botero's sculptures.
This was the view outside our back door. It gives you an idea of how much snow fell.
By yesterday afternoon, the sun came out. It's hard to see, but the sun was reflected on the snowy treetops. It was very pretty.
By this morning, fog had fallen over our yard.
The following picture was taken on Thursday after some sleet had fallen but before the snow started.
The following sets of pictures were taken Sunday morning during the frosty fog event.
In the pictures above and below you can see the ice crystals from the ice fog.
The following picture was taken at Gulley Park from the little footbridge.
We went to 9:00 am Mass this morning when the ice fog was most dense. Below is the view from the church parking lot. There's a red sled in the foreground but not much is visible from the background.
After Mass the fog had begun to lift, but not before it left these beautiful ice crystals on the trees. The following photo was again taken in the church parking lot.
I think these trees are just spectacular.
Incidentally, our church has replaced only two of the four side windows with stained glass. It's not a very Catholic thing to have clear glass windows, but when you can see God's creation from the pews I find it very moving. I hope they don't change out the other two windows too soon.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
The Clean-up Fairy
I haven't cleaned up my gmail for a while. It would be nice to have a clean-up fairy for such a task, but I don't, so I guess that's why I'm blogging. I don't really care for tidying up my emails; I'd rather dust, honestly.
Bill is my clean-up fairy for dishes. He inherited this trait from his mother. I actually think he likes having a mundane task to do between having BIG thoughts.
We used to have a maid when the kids were small. Ours was really quite peculiar, a very odd person. However, she did her job well. Once she did it so well that we couldn't find a 5-pound bag of potatoes, imagine that! We tried to think like Debbie (the maid), sort of a What-Would-Jesus-Do except that it was Where-Would-Debbie-Put-A-5 Pound-Bag-of-Potatoes-?. Never did we dream that she would put the bag under the kitchen sink. That's a place to keep cleaning supplies and the recyclables. We never did find that bag on our own; instead, I had to phone her.
Maids should not make you feel inferior, but Debbie was kind of a cleaning Nazi. I felt bad when I didn't pick up the house before she came. And naturally, if I wanted to be able to find my stuff I had to put it away myself. Picking up is really half the work of maintaining a house.
In the process of redoing the bathrooms a lot of gypsum board dust was raised. It couldn't be helped. It seemed sort of foolish to hire a maid to clean up after construction, so we let Debbie go. Besides, Robert, our builder, was extraordinarily tidy in his work. After the bathrooms were finished I thought about rehiring Debbie, but actually I delighted in polishing my new bathrooms. Well, thirteen years later I can tell you that the thrill is gone.
I still enjoy dusting, and since so much of our house is filled with sentimental breakables, I guess I'm the best at that task.
So a clean-up fairy might be nice, but now that we rarely see the kids there's really not much to clean up, except for my gmail. Hmmm, I guess it's time to get back to that task.
Bill is my clean-up fairy for dishes. He inherited this trait from his mother. I actually think he likes having a mundane task to do between having BIG thoughts.
We used to have a maid when the kids were small. Ours was really quite peculiar, a very odd person. However, she did her job well. Once she did it so well that we couldn't find a 5-pound bag of potatoes, imagine that! We tried to think like Debbie (the maid), sort of a What-Would-Jesus-Do except that it was Where-Would-Debbie-Put-A-5 Pound-Bag-of-Potatoes-?. Never did we dream that she would put the bag under the kitchen sink. That's a place to keep cleaning supplies and the recyclables. We never did find that bag on our own; instead, I had to phone her.
Maids should not make you feel inferior, but Debbie was kind of a cleaning Nazi. I felt bad when I didn't pick up the house before she came. And naturally, if I wanted to be able to find my stuff I had to put it away myself. Picking up is really half the work of maintaining a house.
In the process of redoing the bathrooms a lot of gypsum board dust was raised. It couldn't be helped. It seemed sort of foolish to hire a maid to clean up after construction, so we let Debbie go. Besides, Robert, our builder, was extraordinarily tidy in his work. After the bathrooms were finished I thought about rehiring Debbie, but actually I delighted in polishing my new bathrooms. Well, thirteen years later I can tell you that the thrill is gone.
I still enjoy dusting, and since so much of our house is filled with sentimental breakables, I guess I'm the best at that task.
So a clean-up fairy might be nice, but now that we rarely see the kids there's really not much to clean up, except for my gmail. Hmmm, I guess it's time to get back to that task.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
26. The Fayetteville Square at Christmastime
Catherine reminded me a week ago that I needed to post a blog about the Town Square. From left to right above is: Peter, Catherine's boyfriend, Catherine, Bill, me, Sarah, Billy's girlfriend, and Billy.
In recent years, Fayetteville has invested a lot of time, money, and lumens in the Lights of the Ozarks extravaganza. Preparations for this begin in October. Below is a photo on my way to work one morning as the workmen were beginning to assemble the lights.
This spectacular view is from my office window.
One evening, Billy and Sarah joined us for pizza at Tim's after Mass. I quickly snapped this picture, but it was cold and chilly so the picture is unsteady. Nevertheless, I like the photo, so it remains uncropped.
Sarah was in a UA Christmas concert in December as part of the Donne Voce group. Her family came from Green Forest to see her. The next set of pictures was taken that evening.
I like the way you can stroll through the lights.
This is Sarah and her littlest sister, Lizzie, AKA Tootsie. Sarah is trying to keep her warm.
Here's a picture of Lizzie up close. She's six years old and absolutely adorable. This is really what the Square is about--children at Christmas. Lizzie was delighted with the lights. Too bad the camel wasn't around that evening.
Here are Billy, Sarah, and Lizzie.
More lights!
Last week the workmen returned to dismantle the lights. I believe that it may take even longer to undo the spectacle than to set it up. I took the picture below with my iPhone camera from the other window in the office. That man was way up in the tree without a lifeline! Yikes! I didn't think the branches looked strong enough to support him.
Here are workmen carrying boxes of lights for next year's display.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
On the Google Translate button
It's been a wonderfully lazy Sunday--brunch with Billy and Sarah, a little ironing, a little reading in Italian, and a little playing with my computer, and a little nap. I had so much time on my hands that I had time to explore new buttons on my computer.
Google has this little translate button that instantenously changes my blog from English to Italian to French to Korean. And it does a pretty good job of it, too, much better than what I could do. Well, of course I can't tell you how accurate the Korean is because I don't know any Korean and am not likely to take up that language anytime soon. From a design standpoint, it is interesting to see what my little stories look like in other alphabets--Hindi, Chinese, Russian, and Vietnamese.
It's just not fair--I've spent years trying to learn both French and Italian, and I'm not good at either. But if I can't be multilingual at least my computer can, making a lazy Sunday afternoon even lazier!
Google has this little translate button that instantenously changes my blog from English to Italian to French to Korean. And it does a pretty good job of it, too, much better than what I could do. Well, of course I can't tell you how accurate the Korean is because I don't know any Korean and am not likely to take up that language anytime soon. From a design standpoint, it is interesting to see what my little stories look like in other alphabets--Hindi, Chinese, Russian, and Vietnamese.
It's just not fair--I've spent years trying to learn both French and Italian, and I'm not good at either. But if I can't be multilingual at least my computer can, making a lazy Sunday afternoon even lazier!
Friday, January 8, 2010
Bill's new girl: can you rent love?
Yes.
If you know Bill, you that that he is seriously challenged when it comes to navigating. Put him on a short bus and he would have difficulty finding a seat at the back of it! In fact, one of his students in Roma wrote a short story of Bill as the new Vergil in modern-day Rome; a comedy, no doubt, but divine? Not with Bill's sense of direction!
Now for 32 years I have been the navigator in the family. Only now Bill has begun to call me the nagivator. I don't mind putting up with the insults, but I hate that when I'm absolutely dozey at the start of the journey (often at 4:00 am so that we can avoid traffic) that I have to stay awake to get him to I-40 or I-70.
On our last day in Philly we decided to visit Bill's parents in northwest New Jersey, 2 1/2 hours away by car. I don't know Philly, and we only picked up a AAA tour book, no maps, before we left Fayetteville. We arranged for a rental car at the train station (alas, no train trip for me). The agent asked if we'd like a GPS system, too. Enthusiastically, I said, "yes." The agent preset the Garmin system to the female voice which later I learned was named "Samantha."
Over the years I have noticed that Bill has difficulty simultaneously processing my verbal instructions and the highway signage. For example, when I've noted that he will want to take the next exit in 3/4 of a mile and we reach that exit 3/4 of a mile later, that I have to say again, "this exit NOW." I mean he just doesn't get it, a fact that both of us attribute to the fact that he is thinking BIG thoughts.
Enter Samantha Garmin.
Like me, she is accustomed to drivers who need constant reminders. And when Bill missed the second turn last week, she politely said, "recalculating."
Look at the confidence of Bill at the wheel. Both hands are on the wheel, and at 10 and 2, too!
Samantha's even a bit of a looker. Look at those curves on her screen!
I won't say that Samantha eliminated all sense of doubt for Bill. I had my eyes shut when suddenly I felt some hard breaking and heard Bill say, "Oh, sh*t!" I opened my eyes to find that we were in the striped no-man's land between the expressway and the exit ramp. Yikes!!!!! He had almost missed the exit. I guess Samantha isn't as naggy as me when it comes to saying "exit NOW."
Still, if there is going to be a new woman in Bill's life, Samantha Garmin couldn't be sweeter. You can rent love and maybe buy it, too--perhaps for Bill's birthday?
If you know Bill, you that that he is seriously challenged when it comes to navigating. Put him on a short bus and he would have difficulty finding a seat at the back of it! In fact, one of his students in Roma wrote a short story of Bill as the new Vergil in modern-day Rome; a comedy, no doubt, but divine? Not with Bill's sense of direction!
Now for 32 years I have been the navigator in the family. Only now Bill has begun to call me the nagivator. I don't mind putting up with the insults, but I hate that when I'm absolutely dozey at the start of the journey (often at 4:00 am so that we can avoid traffic) that I have to stay awake to get him to I-40 or I-70.
On our last day in Philly we decided to visit Bill's parents in northwest New Jersey, 2 1/2 hours away by car. I don't know Philly, and we only picked up a AAA tour book, no maps, before we left Fayetteville. We arranged for a rental car at the train station (alas, no train trip for me). The agent asked if we'd like a GPS system, too. Enthusiastically, I said, "yes." The agent preset the Garmin system to the female voice which later I learned was named "Samantha."
Over the years I have noticed that Bill has difficulty simultaneously processing my verbal instructions and the highway signage. For example, when I've noted that he will want to take the next exit in 3/4 of a mile and we reach that exit 3/4 of a mile later, that I have to say again, "this exit NOW." I mean he just doesn't get it, a fact that both of us attribute to the fact that he is thinking BIG thoughts.
Enter Samantha Garmin.
Like me, she is accustomed to drivers who need constant reminders. And when Bill missed the second turn last week, she politely said, "recalculating."
Look at the confidence of Bill at the wheel. Both hands are on the wheel, and at 10 and 2, too!
Samantha's even a bit of a looker. Look at those curves on her screen!
I won't say that Samantha eliminated all sense of doubt for Bill. I had my eyes shut when suddenly I felt some hard breaking and heard Bill say, "Oh, sh*t!" I opened my eyes to find that we were in the striped no-man's land between the expressway and the exit ramp. Yikes!!!!! He had almost missed the exit. I guess Samantha isn't as naggy as me when it comes to saying "exit NOW."
Still, if there is going to be a new woman in Bill's life, Samantha Garmin couldn't be sweeter. You can rent love and maybe buy it, too--perhaps for Bill's birthday?
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