She'd Breathed Her Last

As soon as I pass the cattle feed lot, I slow to a cruise, well within the speed limit. There is nothing the town cops like better than handing out a speeding ticket to someone with a Privatopia sticker on their windshield.

I pass the Shell gas station and then the train crossing. There aren't many cars parked on the one-block main strip of this tiny town that includes a biker bar, take-out-pizza shop, a collectibles/antique store (open only on weekends), a small grocery mart, and an eye care store open only on Mondays and Wednesdays, because the doctor and assistants work in other tiny town locations on the other business days.

It is 2 p.m. and the storefront has just reopened. Even though they are only open the two days, they close and lock the door for one hour beginning at 1 p.m., so the three occupants may enjoy their lunch hour uninterrupted.

One of the occupants looks up from opposite side of the room, as I enter. She greets me by name and motions to her desk area.

-Ranell, have a seat. I'll be right with you.

She notices as I glance at the portable electric heater next to her chair.

-I get cold sitting next to the windows.

-The reason it caught my eye is that our furnace died yesterday and we have four portable electric heaters keeping the house warm until Wednesday when they'll install a new one.

-What? Two more days without heat? Oh my gosh! Can't they do it sooner? It's record breaking cold outside. Do you have a fireplace? That's awful. I mean, we keep our thermostat at 70. What's the temperature in your house now?

-We have a fireplace and luckily it's been sunny outside, and I've been baking a lot, so with the electric heaters we're able to keep the house around 66 degrees, but it's a little cooler at night.

-My furnace went out once, when my husband was hunting in Minnesota. I woke up in the middle of the night because I was so cold. I thought I must have left a window or door open. But when I got up I realized the furnace wasn't on. It was 3 o'clock in the morning and I didn't want to call my husband because what could he do anyway? So, I phoned the repair guy and he asked a few questions and talked me through restarting it. He had me take an emery board and flick the flint-thing- I mean, are you sure it can't be fixed?

-About a week ago she began to make noise, like a rattle. So, my husband took a look and decided it was a bad bearing. He called our furnace guy who came out and confirmed it was a bearing in the impeller motor or something. The guy tightened some clamp hoping it would minimize any vibration. The plan was to cross our fingers and hope she could make it until spring when we'd have both the furnace and air-conditioner replaced. We didn't want to put any money into fixing a twenty-year-old furnace. Meanwhile we got a couple of estimates and we waited. But each day she groaned a bit louder. Her rattle became constant, like she was fighting for air-

-Really? Was that what it was like?

-Yup. Then on Saturday evening and all through the night she struggled, waking us a couple of times with loud gasps. Then Sunday, mid-morning, she let out with a death rattle that shook the floorboards. My husband was standing beside the thermostat. I asked, "Is that it? Is she gone?" He nodded. She'd breathed her last.

-Whoa.

-So, anyway we feel fortunate that they'll be out in two days with our brand new, state-of-the-art furnace, featuring a high-efficiency two-stage burner and variable speed blower and with 14,000 more BTUs. And we are now eligible for rebates from ComEd and NiCor for our electric and natural gas use. AND we have a name for her already, Babs, short for "Bad-Ass-Bitch."

The door chime rings and in comes her next customer.

As I leave she looks up from her desk area where she sits with the new customer, "Um, Ranell, I was wondering, did Babs predecessor have a name?"

Artist's Rendition of Babs

Be My Valentine (Or Another Monster to Feed)

Like migrant birds, many of our mostly-all-retirees who own homes, here in Privatopia, are at their winter nests. As a result there were quite a few "no-show" bowlers without assigned subs at Privatopia's Women's Bowling League last Wednesday.

Our team of three bowled against a single bowler. My point being, that as a result of this lopsided bowling series, our team and the single bowler finished quite a bit earlier than usual.

When I left the house I'd told Faithful Husband that he could probably expect me to be home somewhat late, as I'd planned to stop at the grocery store  and gas station on the way home. Also, I wasn't certain if the official "scorekeeper" of the bowling league, for whom I was filling in, was due back this week or next week. If she was still away, I'd have to wait until all of the teams finished bowling and collect the scorecards before leaving.

"If things change, and it looks like I'll be home sooner, I'll call you," were my parting words. But, in a frantic rush out the door, I'd forgotten my IPhone.

The scorekeeper was indeed back in town and like I said, we finished bowling early. As I left the bowling alley, sans phone, I found myself concerned about the wind, drifting snow and frigid temperatures. "If the car gets stuck, I can't call for help. And anyway, Faithful Husband will be happy that I'm home early," were my reasoned thoughts.

I pulled into the attached garage, grabbed my bowling bag and headed to the door connecting to the house. As I placed my hand on the doorknob, I heard my husband's voice, "Alexa, play some romantic music." I heard the murmured reply of a female voice at the same time I heard lovely classical music wafting softly my way. I stood stock-still for a moment. Then, I quietly open the door to see Faithful Husband and tall, elegantly slim Alexa...

***

We are among the "chosen." Sometime last November we received an invitation from Amazon to request an invitation to buy a product- stop right here! Have you ever heard of such a thing? Okay, now this is not verbatim, but here is how I saw it:

Amazon speaking, "We invite you to request from us an invitation for the honor of purchasing our new product, Amazon Echo. Now this doesn't mean that we can actually guarantee that you will be among the chosen first to purchase this product, but only promise that we'll give it some thought and get back to you at a later date."

When I was a child, my now dearly departed mother used to use the phrase, "We got a live one." I discerned from her use of it that she meant someone who could be duped, easily duped, that is. I googled the phrase and find:

[Underworld]: a prospective victim of a swindle, esp. a wealthy, gullible person; one who can be easily taken in or exploited, esp. for money. (My mom had a thing for using "underworld or 'thug' language.")

Tall and elegantly slim Alexa

***

To quote P. T. Barnum, "There is a sucker born every minute."

***

Amazon Echo is a Bluetooth/digital speaker with a built-in voice control assistant.
"Take a look at this. I think this is interesting." I view the propagandized sleekly produced video which features a good-looking family of four, each chiming in with requests of Echo, named Alexa by Amazon:
Boy: Alexa, how do you spell Bogota?" Bogota is spelled B-O-G-O-T-A."
"The timer is set for 10 minutes beginning now."
"Taylor Swift playlist coming up."
Alexa responds with a complete current local weather report.

We've had Siri on our IPhones for two or three years. I found myself using Siri only occasionally back then, and even less as time went on. My Faithful Husband used either only slightly more often than that. We already own a couple of plug-in digital speakers for playing our digital music collections. So, why in the world would the two of us be interested in buying yet another product with the same purpose?

Faithful Husband, who is usually the more savvy of the two of us when it comes to making logical and wise purchases forwarded me the invitation to request an invitation.

Boy (doing homework): "Alexa, what is the capital of Colombia, South America?" Alexa: "The capital of Colombia, South America is Bogota." Boy: "Alexa, how do you spell Bogota?" Alexa: Bogota is spelled B-O-G-O-T-A."

Busy mother (in the kitchen): "Alexa, please set a timer for 10 minutes." Alexa: "The timer is set for 10 minutes."

Younger sister (lounging on the sofa):,"Alexa, play some Taylor Swift music." Alexa: "Taylor Swift playlist now playing."

Father (preparing to go outside): "Alexa, what is the temperature outside?" Alexa presents complete local weather report.

But, they couldn't fool me. I could already envision the fights as the siblings argue over their favorite playlists, the parents chastising the kids for using Alexa to get their homework done… well, you get the picture.

Yet as Faithful Husband pointed out that Amazon was offering it at a 50% price reduction ($99 instead of $199), and that he felt it was worth it for the speaker alone, I found myself agreeing that we should request an invitation for an invitation.

***

Now that we've used her for a while I find that Alexa is not perfect, but she is certainly fun to use.

With a built-in always-actively-connected microphone, Alexa can listen for her name from across the room. Talking to Alexa feels more natural than it ever did when I used Siri. When I'm typing at my Mac, I don't have to open a new page to research something, I simply ask Alexa to look it up. Anytime Faithful Husband or I discover that we are low on some food item or various household sundry it is  über-simple to ask Alexa to add it to our shopping list. She can play music from either of our digital collections with a nice 360-degree sound speaker.

But she's not perfect. She is still learning our voices and on rare occasion misunderstands us. She does not run on battery power and so isn't really portable. And you can't mention her name when discussing her or she will hear her name and interrupt what she's doing to address you. Like when I was typing this blog and asked Faithful Husband a question about having Alexa add mayonnaise to the shopping list and she promptly interrupted the music she was playing and replied, “Mayonnaise has been added to your shopping list.”

We both see potential for her down the road. And while I like Alexa, I would say that Faithful Husband is actually quite smitten with her.

But, like I foresee the problems likely to occur with the family of four in the video trying to share her use, I see potential for mishap with Alexa in the future. How far along will it be that instead of simply adding to our shopping list, we will be able to have said objects conveniently shipped directly to our home. Instead of "Alexa, add Valentine Chocolates to my shopping list," will I be able to say "Alexa, ship me a two-pound box of See's Assorted Chocolates in a heart-shaped box"  and have her reply "A two-pound box of See's Assorted Chocolates in a heart-shaped box will arrive on Friday before 6:00 p.m."?

So like that magic pulse, aimed at keeping us replete, that magic pulse that beats inside our Nessie (http://topeacenquiet.blogspot.com/2015/01/feeding-monster.html) so beats the promise that Alexa will one day readily accept our money in some frighteningly easy manner and my “one-click” purchases with Amazon will become virtually “click-less.”

***

Here are pix of the Valentine's dinner Faithful Husband and I prepared for ourselves. The romantic music list he was testing out from Alexa played in the background while we cooked.

homemade sourdough bread

salad with balsamic dressing

sides of bacon wrapped asparagus and twice-baked potatoes

steak broiled because it's too darn cold to grill outside

ditto for the lobster tails

chocolate mousse

A Cold Weather Recipe

I can't remember the recent social event I was attending here in Privatopia, but I do recall that one of my fellow home owners said to me, "Hey Rae, how is it over by your place? It must be like a frozen tundra over there."

I paused a moment to give measure to her words. She was an acquaintance, someone I didn't know very well, so it was difficult to discern her intent at conversation. Did she mean that my house did not have the beautiful view of a McMansion waterfront home? Or was I being defensive?

Recently I'd witnessed a fellow Privatopia resident say to a friend, whose home is located near the ski hill, "Well, it must be awful for you with the noise of that snowmaking machine and those bright lights that illuminate the ski hill." Or, the time a neighbor said to me, while visiting my house, "Oh, you don't have the open floor plan and expansive ceilings. How do you cope? I'd be positively claustrophobic."

Encounters like that are fodder for my blog. I'm beyond junior high school and it is no longer easy to make me envious, or to make me somehow feel inadequate that my possessions are not as grand as yours. Sometimes in such situation I have to suppress a desire to chuckle.

But, assuming the "frozen tundra" woman meant no harm, and remembering she lived in a cozy and protected vale-like area, I replied,  in my best Werner Herzog voice,

"Yes, well, our house is small and sort of set up atop a hill."

"So the wind can be quite unrelenting, 

especially during winter storms."

"Thank goodness we had new windows put in last year."

It seems to have paid off in a more tight and warm home."

***

I do not possess Werner Herzog's masculine voice, nor do I speak with a pleasing German accent. However, I can imitate his slow, deliberate, almost insistent cadence. And I can speak in a deadpan manner, practically devoid of emotion and with perfectly enunciated English.

I am a fan of Werner Herzog's films. I especially enjoy films in which he provides some of the narration. That voice, that gentle calming voice that absolutely demands you sit up and pay attention. That voice, that uncritical voice that makes you stop and think, and think again, long after you've absorbed the words.  That voice, that relaxed, softly predictable voice with its stops and pauses between sentences that seem to drive home a point harder than a sledgehammer. Oh, that voice.

***

When potential retirement loomed over us like an undefined cloud, I was having lunch with Reliant Husband in a diner a town away from our newly bought home in Privatopia. We overheard the townspeople asking one another, "Where will you winter this year?" "I can't wait until we are asked that question," I whispered to Reliant Husband, as dreams of exotic tropical destinations slowly danced in my head.

***

We had an amiable substitute on my Privatopia bowling team this past month, as one of our team is off "wintering" in Florida for a month. As we waited our turns to bowl, the sub asked, "Rae, will you be getting away anywhere this winter?"

"No," I explained "we made a quick trip to the East Coast to visit family over the holiday season. But, that's about it. We spend a couple of days each week with our new grandson. They grow so quickly. Soon enough we'll be able to take longer winter vacations, but right now he needs some time with us, and we with him-" I could feel myself making excuses about not taking flight like a “snowbird.” Yuch!

***

Reliant Husband and I have varying introverted tendencies that make it enjoyable for us to be somewhat isolated. We like to cross-country ski and snowshoe, not in crowds, but just the two of us. If I'm away bowling Reliant Husband will go out skiing alone. He also likes to putter about the house. I like to cook and bake. We both enjoy reading books or watching films. Neither of us use FaceBook.

In short, we both enjoy looking out of the back window at our "frozen tundra," a view that is both static and ever-changing. 

Two of Werner Herzog's documentary films come to mind as I gaze at my tundra, 1) Happy People: a Year in Taiga and 2) Encounters at the End of the World.

***

This week we returned from our two-day trip to the city to visit our grandson to find knee-deep mounds of snow surrounding our house. We temporarily abandoned the car on the road and began, in twilight, to dig our way back into our home. With the shovel we made it to the garage where Reliant Husband started up the snow thrower. He worked on the driveway and I attacked the deeper drifts with a shovel to make it easier for the snow thrower to do its work. We laughed as I reminded Reliant Husband of how Anatoly in Happy People arrives after a full day spent trapping to find his hunting cabin has had a tree fall on it, crushing part of the roof, snow is at least three feet deep on the remaining roof, a bear has torn open the windows, even though it knows full well there is no food to be had. And thus in the dark Anatoly, alone, must fix the cabin as he has nowhere else to go, no other alternative but to repair it so that he has a shelter in which to sleep. Our laughter makes the work go quickly and in one hour we're safe and warm in our-home-with-a-view-of-the-frozen-tundra.

***

All of my life I dreamed of retirement, a time when I could chose what activities I wanted, a time when I finally owned my time. And what better excuse to do nothing but the basics for a happy life then to be snowed in. What better reason to pick up a book you've always meant to read? What better reason to make bread from scratch? What better reason to watch, or re-watch a film? What better reason to write a story for a great-great-grandchild with whom you will otherwise never have contact? What better reason to dream during the day rather than at night when you are asleep?

All of my energy that is expended in a frenetic world of sometimes overwhelming activity and constant internet connection is slowly and deliberately repaired, rebuilt and restored, like Anatoly's cabin.

***

A Recipe for Winter Relish

How to relish winter? Well to begin with, put on layers of good winter clothing, jackets, balaclavas, gaiters, boots, hats and gloves, then don skis or snowshoes and head outside. Drink in the beauty that dazzles your eyes to near blindness and the crushing sound of complete silence that almost hurts your ears.

Now for as long as necessary, incubate your mind so that when you return home you will be instilled with energy to do more enjoyable things of your own choosing.

***

"Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits…”

p.s. Just as I began to hit the 'post' button I looked up to see a majestic bald eagle over the tree in my back yard. - Sorry I couldn't get a photo in time!