Putting out brush fires

 

My favorite graduate school professor, who became a lifelong friend, used to tell me when he was chair of the English department, that he spent his time putting out brush fires. That’s how this week has made me feel about the holiday season. When so many added chores and concerns are on our to-do lists, from Christmas shopping and wrapping to meal planning, everything else, all the little details of daily life, seem to demand more attention.

It is, for instance, the open enrollment period for changing your insurance if you’re on Medicare. Normally I ignore the deluge of mail from various companies that arrives during this period. But my retirement plan gives me access to a site that does cost/benefits comparisons, and they alerted me to a plan that might save me money. The website was complicated—what ones aren’t?—so I called to talk to a real live person. After an hour on hold, I had sort of figured out how to access the information I wanted, but changing insurance providers is a pretty momentous decision. I wanted some back up and called Colin, my oldest son.

He had installed something on my computer called Microsoft Teams which would allow him to see me and my computer. We tried to secure the link for over an hour last night, until he said, “Maybe we should do this in the morning.” I have too often found that walking away from a computer problem only to come back the next day is a great solution.

So this morning we tried again. Went through all the tricks to link us, and then I went through the lengthy process on the website to get to the comparisons—and my connection was broken (this happens a lot, but did it have to happen just then?)—twice. I think we worked on this for over an hour, until Colin said the plans were really pretty comparable, and changing probably wasn’t worth it. Whew!

He did prove to me last weekend that my scanner works, so I can submit bills for reimbursement without the laborious print process I’d been using. So now I have to wait for Jean to show me how to do that.

And then there’s the doctor’s office that billed me twice, and Sisters in Crime which thinks I haven’t renewed when I think I have—they were right, but it took some research to find that out. A grocery list to compile, recipes to choose for a couple of special occasions, the dog groomer appointment, book sales to check, and on and on. No, I did not write one original word today, except this blog, and I don’t think I had one original thought about a project. Irene, poor dear, has faded into the background for a bit.

I did however check on audio sales of Saving Irene, and they are dismal, certainly not worth the money I paid to have it recorded. So I have a sincere question: how many of you listen to audio books? I much prefer to read either print or online, and though I see a lot about how audio is gaining in importance, I don’t see it happening to my experimental book. I don’t think it’s a genre problem because I know of mysteries that do well, and it seems to me mystery more than anything else other than romance should do well in audio. But it would take something major to make me format Irene in Danger for audio. Meantime, remember if you belong to Kindle Unlimited, you can order either Irene book free.

All these brush fires faded last night when friends Jean and Jeannie took Betty and me to The Blue Spire, the upscale dining room in the Trinity Terrace retirement complex. Outstanding service, white linen tablecloths and napkins, crystal wine glasses, and a great menu. I had a Caesar salad, four lollipop lamb chops, roasted carrots (I can never fix those at home), and spinach. I couldn’t live or eat that way every night, but it sure was grand for a treat. Lots of talking and catching up.

To get from the visitor parking to the dining floor is a long, long walk so Jean pushed me in a transport chair (no footrests so I had to stick my feet straight out—good exercise for those muscles). As she was pushing me on the way home, she asked, “Why are we so fortunate?” and I could only echo the question. I feel so blessed and so determined to help the less fortunate, frustrated that I can do so little except some puny financial support for a few causes and politicians and preaching it from my Facebook pulpit.

How about you? Are you passionate about some causes?