Taking a Bite Out of the Apple

The internet truly is a mixed bag. I've gone to the google many times to figure out what a computer error message means, how to salvage a keyboard exposed to coffee or when it's okay to substitute bread flour for all-purpose flour.

LOC public domain photo

But sometimes the internet fails, and I have to rely on my own trial-and-error method of handling things.

Case in point...this week I signed up for Apple TV so Mr. Ginley and I could watch Ted Lasso. Mr. discovered TL after watching snippets of it on YouTube. He got me hooked on it, too. So when I was pondering what to get for Christmas, I thought Apple TV would be a good gift. We could subscribe for a month or so, watch all the episodes and turn it off. 

After signing up, I went to my "smart" TV to set it up. I downloaded the app, put in my account information and was ready to roll.

Unfortunately, when I tried to watch Ted Lasso, the picture was pixelated. I unplugged the TV and plugged it back in. I deleted the app and reinstalled it. I waited until the next day and tried again. No dice.

Off I went to the google and the Apple Support site. The upshot was, my smart TV wasn't smart enough to support Ted. If I wanted to watch him, I had to get a new TV. 

Well, that wasn't going to happen.

"What about the TV upstairs?" Mr. Ginley suggested.

"Well, that one's not a smart TV – and it's a lot older," I replied. But then I shrugged, figured what the heck, and pulled out the Fire Stick that Mr. Trusken so kindly gave me during the family celebration at my sister's house.

I plugged in the Fire Stick and signed onto the Apple TV app and clicked on Ted. Lo and behold, it worked.

"Let me get this straight," Mr. Ginley observed. "The app won't play on our smart TV, but it will do just fine on our dumb TV?"

Yep.

Well, whatever works, I guess. Just another chapter in my experience of bridging old and new technologies. As most of you know, my side gig is converting old-format video tape to DVDs and USBs. Axel has taught me a lot about that. I never would have known there were so many old formats. 

But I digress.

In this case, the internet was not helpful in finding a solution to my Apple TV problem, although it has been in the past. 

So, here's what have we learned from this:

• It's nice to use the internet as a tool, but there's still plenty of room for good old common sense and human brainpower. 
• Artificial intelligence is only as good as the intelligence it's given. 
• I'll never be able to fold a fitted sheet neatly no matter how many times I watch the YouTube video.

Happy New Year! Be joyful and safe, and I'll see you in 2023.

Like the Cobwebs of My Mind

Memories are such tricky things.

I was sure my siblings and I sat through the Beatles' move Help! twice when we visited my grandmother.

But two siblings debunked my memory.

I recall once telling my dad that I was upset he left me in the car on Broadview Hill when the car ran out of gas. He was horrified, and said he never would have left me in the car alone. Obviously, it was a nightmare I had that was so real, my brain stored it as a memory.

So what's true and what's fiction? Can our memories be trusted for anything?

If you sit a group of family members down and bring up an incident, you'll get as many different takes on what happened as you do family members. At least, as far as the details are concerned. We all color our memories with our own perspective. Whether something is funny or tragic depends on how our minds have chosen to spin a particular memory.

And some memories are just false. So what do we do?

I guess we just accept the fact that not everything we recall is 100% fact. We keep the good stuff and let go of the the bad stuff, if we can. After all, no one is going to publish a biography of me, so whatever memories I have are purely for my own entertainment.

So I will enjoy my Christmas memories. 

Listening to the Beatles' Michelle while gazing at the Christmas tree, lit up with the large, colorful bulbs that were popular (before they were recognized as a fire hazard).

Sitting through 6 a.m. mass, the anticipation of opening presents almost too much to bear.

My parents, coffee cups in hand, watching us unwrap our myriad presents.

Starting our own traditions with our son. Setting up a countdown wreath with miniature candy bars on it (like my Mom's). Picking out a live tree and decorating it. Watching A Child's Christmas in Wales on Christmas Eve. Leaving cookies and carrots for Santa and his reindeer. Hanging stockings on the mantel. Clutching a cup of hot coffee and watching our son open his gifts on Christmas morning. 

All memories to cherish. 

As for things like bickering with siblings over placement of tinsel and ornaments or the proper technique for decorating cookies or the angst of getting a Christmas tree perfectly positioned – well, those things are part of Christmas, too. But things that we can laugh about now, with the passage of time.

May your memories of holidays past be happy and may you all be safe and happy, whether you're celebrating Christmas, Hanukkah, Festivus, Kwanza – or you're sitting this one out.

Kitchens and Other Disaster Areas

"Have you learned nothing from me?" Mr. Ginley postulated.

Yes, I made it myself.

If ever there was an invitation to an eyeroll...

"You go to the store, buy a few bags of Chex Mix and put them in a big zipper bag," he continued. You bring your own bowl to put it in and, voilá. You've brought snacks that everyone thinks you made yourself."

"No one in my family is that dumb," I say, daring him to contradict me. "They'll know it's store-bought."

"Well, who cares? You go to all this trouble to buy the ingredients, and you're fretting about not having enough time to prepare it. Now you've got to make a cheese ball and Chex Mix, and it's your own fault, no sense feeling sorry for yourself."

Cue the second eyeroll.

Yes, he's right, of course. After working all day and finishing up a job for my side gig to boot, I really didn't feel like putting in more hours preparing snacks for the big shindig. 

It didn't help that the butter blew up in the microwave, and I had to spend another 10 minutes cleaning up the carnage. 

Or that I chose a too-small bowl to mix the cheese ball in (an error which was also called to my attention by Mr. You-Know-Who). 

The third strike was not being able to locate the nut grinder. I asked Mr. if he knew where it was. After searching through two cupboards that hadn't been accessed in years,  he located the nut grinder for me. My hero!

So let this be a lesson for me for next year. I'm writing it down tonight so I won't forget. 

Of course, I know if I do, someone will be on hand to remind me.

Say goodnight, Gracie.

Leaving Darker Days Behind

This year, the Winter Solstice, – aka the shortest day of the year – falls on December 21st.

Yes, I realize it's not actually the shortest day, it simply has the least amount of daylight. Sunrise will be at 7:04 a.m. and the sun will set at 5:34 p.m.

Trying to look on the bright side, I tell myself that the days will start to get longer after that. 

Still, I'm not big on winter. Cold weather, snow and cabin fever are not appealing to me.

Recently, I read something that suggested we are out of touch with our natural selves. After all, bears hibernate during the winter, why shouldn't we? It suggested we embrace the slow days and long nights by reading books, cozying up to the fireplace and binge watching our favorite movies and TV shows.

I've been casting about for things that will help me cope with what is now referred to as seasonal affective disorder. Here's what I've come up with:

1. A Zen Workspace: Fortunately, my home office is already the warmest room in the house, so that helps. I added a desk lamp that I shine over my notebook while I'm working. I added a little flair to it (see photo) to lift my spirits. I also have a calendar that features lively pastel artwork. (What can I say, it makes me happy.) Also, I listen to music while I work. Andreas Vollenweider is a go-to. And I like Dizzy Dulcimer. Coworkers have suggested brown noise on YouTube, but sometimes it just rubs me the wrong way. To each his own.
2. Exercise: I've already been doing this just about every weekday morning and most Saturdays. After feeding the cat, I head to the basement to fling my limbs hither and yon in the hopes of burning off a calorie or two. When I'm finished, I feel better, like I've accomplished something. I'm pretty sure if I tried to do this later in the day, it wouldn't work because I'd talk myself out of it.
3. Me Time, Breakfast Edition: Call me a Luddite, but I still enjoy reading the newspaper in the morning. I peruse the New York Times newsletter and the actual Plain Dealer (fish-wrap though it may be.) I especially enjoy reading the comics and doing the word puzzles, like the Jumble and the ScrabbleGram. Okay, you can call me a word nerd, too,
4. Organization: Planning and organization have never been my strong suits. But Mr. Ginley's influence has resulted in my designing a spreadsheet where I keep track of my work and the status of each task. I also keep a checklist in front of me that reminds me of the steps I need to follow to finish each job.
5. Me Time, Coffee Break Edition: At some point in the morning, I'll come to a good stopping point and go make another cup of coffee or grab a snack. The trip downstairs, staring out the window for a bit and petting the cat help me recharge the batteries.
6. Me Time, Post Work Edition: Between wrapping up work and starting dinner, I try to take a breather. Read a little or chat with Mr. Ginley. Given that I no longer have the drive home to unwind, I need a break between my roles as worker bee and cook.
7. Bath Time: Once a week – usually Saturday or Sunday evening – I soak in the tub. I light a candle, pour in some bubble bath and close the bathroom door on the world. I don't always succeed in keeping troubles at bay, but it's always a nice try.
8. Food Prep: Alas, I'm not one of those folks who enjoys cooking. I do it out of necessity. My goal is to do a better job of it. I have a folder full of recipes, and over the next few months, I hope to unearth some new recipes to add what is becoming a very tired repertoire. 
9. Jigsaw Puzzles: Our basement, living room and other assorted rooms are home to several boxes of jigsaw puzzles. My goal is to do them and give them away. There is one roadblock – the libraries have started giving them out with the request that you bring the back when you're done. So I'm not making as much headway on my own puzzles as I'd like. Still, I find the jigsaws stimulate my brain cells in a different way.
10. Mindless TV: We don't have cable, but we do pick up a lot of DVDs from the library. And yes, I realize I'll get sick of watching Hallmark movies one of these days. But I'm enjoying them in the meantime. There's something to be said for formulaic plots and happy endings. I'm not turning a blind eye to what's going on in the world, I'm just stepping away from the calamity I can't control.
11. Moments: Every now and then I stop myself and take stock. Am I feeling reasonably well today? Yes. Is there a roof over my head and food on my table? Yes. Are my son and daughter-in-law doing okay? Yes. Do I have someone who would take care of me if I'd fallen and couldn't get up? Yes. Well, then, it's time to send up a little "thank you" to whomever might be listening. I may not be a world traveller, a movie star or a big lottery winner. But right now, I'm okay.

And, soon enough, the days will begin to get longer.

Ornamental Musings

I pondered aloud whether I should up a Christmas tree this year.

"It's totally up to you," Mr. Ginley replied.

"Okay, then," I countered. "I'll put up the tree with just lights on it."

"Aww," Mr. groaned. "You have to put at least some ornaments on the tree."

"Well, you said it was up to me. But okay, which ones do you want me to use?"

"Just the ones that we always put on the tree. Like the Irish one we got from that store in Alexandria the first Christmas we lived there."

And so it was that I proceeded to haul our petite faux tree from the basement and string it with lights. 

Which didn't light.

"Aren't you supposed to test the lights before you put them on the tree?" inquired Mr. Ginley oh-so-helpfully.

"Well, these were the ones that worked last year, when we had the tree up until April," I replied. 

Off came the two strings of lights and into the garbage they went. Up went the two remaining strands. 

Next, I added the Irish ornament, the Eskimo ball that's gone on the tree from the time I left home and the paper angel with Joe's picture on it that was a holiday project in kindergarten. Then I added Thomas the Tank Engine.

"Where's the angel for the top of the tree?" he asked. Up went the angel.

Mr. Ginley peered into the box that housed the remaining ornaments. 

"You could put one Snoopy on the tree," he directed. "And look, you have Thomas' friends, you have to put them up there with Thomas."

I pulled out a green and a red engine, aka, Thomas' cohorts on the Island of Sodor.

"You want me to add these two?" I did not call them by name.

"That's Edward and James," he snipped. "I can't believe you don't remember their names."

Onto the tree went Edward and James.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Oh, it's up to you," he replied. "But don't we have any sports ornaments?"

"We have the Indians but it's got the Chief Wahoo logo on it," I replied. "Ovechkin lives on the mantel all year long, so there's no point putting him on the tree. And we've forsaken the Browns because of he-who-shall-not-be-named."

I then went through and put up a few more of the classics. The Freedom of the Seas ship from our cruise, the tiny stocking with his dad's initials on it and a little stuffed reindeer.

"What's this dog doing on the tree? We're cat people, not dog people." 

"It's a reindeer. And it's been on the tree every year for decades," I explained.

"Hey, what about this one with our cat's picture on it?" he said, pulling yet another trinket from the bin.

"That's not our cat. That's the picture that came with the ornament."

"We should get a photo of Maggie and replace the picture and hang it on the tree."

Now I need to print out the picture of our cat so she can grace the branches of our now not-so-sparsely decorated tree.

Also, I added the plush cast of characters from Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer beneath the tree. 

At last, the decorating was done for the season. Time to sit down, relax and admire my handiwork.

"Hey, why didn't you get out the wreath, the one you always put the little chocolate candy bars on?"

And so it goes.