DebisZoo

Fantasy worlds. Magical inhabitants. Timeless battles between Good and Evil.

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Warning–Major Griping Ahead

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I use a BiPap machine nightly. It’s a one-up of a CPAP, because my lovely, full-of-fairies-brain has stopped telling my lungs when to breath. So I stop a lot! The BiPAP takes care of that at night, and since I actually forget to do it during the day, I’m on oxygen 24/7. Anyway, I recently changed insurances, and the new insurance requires all new studies and scripts to continue with my breather-helpers, as I call my equipment. The company that provides this equipment sent me a letter saying I have 30 days to get all new approvals, as the insurance won’t pay. Oh, wait, they already aren’t paying. No one told me till now I need all this crap.

So, I call the equipment company, which I will henceforth refer to as EC. So clever… Anyway, I talk to this nice lady, she tells me I need to see the doctor face-to-face (?–I guess so he can see I can’t breathe), I ask if Doc and I could do a video call instead, and she says the words that make my blood run cold, “I’ll have to check on that, I’ll call you right back.” I reluctantly disconnect the call–I mean, I’d just gone through computer hell, pressing button after button to actually get to a real human. So, I go back to editing my manuscript. A few minutes later, the phone rings. I’m surprised–it’s her! Yes, a video call will work! Happily, I get off the phone, and then I think, how sad that I’m surprised she called back so quickly. But, I have another call to make–the doctor’s office to make a video appointment for everything I need.

As I begin the call, clouds roll over the house and the room darkens. In the distance, dogs howl. A cold wind dances across my back. What the hell– I complete the call, go through all the numbers to get to a person. get put on Everlasting Hold, then I get Her. I explain what’s going on, that I got a letter from EC that says new insurance requires new everything, including the fact that if I don’t do an in-house sleep study within 30 days of seeing the doctor, insurance won’t pay, blah, blah, blah. Will I be able to get an in-house study that quickly? It’s a trick question, people. Of course I can’t get it that quickly, I already know that.

Her: “You can’t make an appointment for a Sleep Study without a doctor’s order. You can’t get an Order until you see the doctor.” It’s just the way she says it, like I’m utterly stupidAnyway— Me: “I have to get in within 30 days after I see the doctor, or the insurance won’t pay. What happens if I can’t get a Study in time?” Her: “Wellll, I can’t really answer that. I mean, that’s a different part of the Sleep Center. But they have cancellations all the time.” Me: Ok. Last week, I made an appointment for Feb. 3 to see the doc face-to-face, knowing I’d need to do this. I want to change it to a video appointment.” Her: Ok, I can do that.” click-click-click “The soonest I have is Feb. 9.” Wonderful. Insurance won’t pay until then, and this equipment isn’t cheap. But, whatever. So, we go through all the back and forth, and then suddenly–

The black clouds roil. The coldness in my office engulfs me. She can’t hear me. Her: “Hello? Hello? I can’t hear you, so I’m not going to change your in-house appointment to a video one. You will need to call back to change your appointment.” Click.

My temper is rising. The dogs are laughing. Black clouds are now in my office. I stare at my phone. Is she going to call me back? She just verified my phone number twice! No, of course not. I call back to the office, go through all the numbers to get to the person, got put on Everlasting Hold. All over again. As I sit there, again staring at the phone, I have an epiphany! How could I have forgotten–I can do this through MyChart, a wonderful app that keeps me from having to deal with human beings, the main cause of my anxiety. So it takes me about two minutes to make a video appt–on Jan 26!!!–with my doc. I start to cancel the Feb. 3 appt I made, then decide not to. Who knows?

Whew–that was quite a morning and I’m a bit embarrassed to admit that I was nearly driven to tears by the entire situation, set off by that second phone call. It would have been so simple for her to call me back so we could continue on. But she didn’t. And what’s more, I knew she wouldn’t. She wasn’t that kind of any employee–helpful. She was condescending, not quite rude, and talked to me as if I was sitting here playing with my building blocks and coloring. Ok, I like to color, but that’s not the point. It doesn’t take a lot to make me happy, and I daresay most of us are like that.

Sigh. Brave New World, my ass.

Keyboards — They Have More Power Than You Realize

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Recently, I’ve gone through what I like to refer to as the Keyboard Wars. Several months ago, I realized I was squinting, hunched over my laptop like some sort of gnome. Matilda wasn’t a small laptop either, a 17″ HP, quite a nice one. Yet here I was, forced to at last admit this wasn’t working for me any longer.

So… I took myself onto Amazon, my shopping partner, to look for a desktop, monitor, keyboard and mouse. I knew already I couldn’t work with the shoebox with keys that comes with just about any computer, as I’d already been experiencing that with the laptop. First I went to HP, which has been my go-to computer for–well, since forever. I couldn’t find anything I liked, so eventually, I ended up at Dell. I found one that suited my needs and purchased it. The tower is so small, it’s so cute. And powerful!

Next the monitor. Since I was going blind with the 17″ lappie, I went larger, and got what looks like a miniature movie theater screen on my desk. I then found a keyboard I fell in love with. The Logitech MK550 Wireless Wave Keyboard and Mouse Combo!

This keyboard was magical! It’s curved, the keys are a little more spread out that regular keyboards, I just loved it!! Unfortunately, MS Word did not. Nor did MS Word particularly care for the mouse. I went back and forth with Logitech. I uninstalled and reinstalled the software for the keyboard/mouse three times. It was crazy! At one point, I got twenty-three “e’s” in a row. The thing would just take off, typing multiple letters, skipping rows, then freezing up. And the mouse! It just sat there, doing nothing. They worked fine on everything else, just not Word. OK, believe it or not, I uninstalled Word and reinstalled it. Writers never uninstall Word! It’s like–like–I just can’t say how drastic that is. What if it doesn’t come back? But that’s how much I wanted this stupid keyboard to work.

Alas, it was not to be. I contacted Logitech again, they reminded me I had purchased a warranty, so they sent me a new set. Yes, as you’ve already guessed, it didn’t work either. At last, I had no choice but to go back to Amazon and with a heavy heart, find another keyboard. A writer without a keyboard is like a car without tires. Ain’t goin; nowhere. I bought another Logitech mouse–my old standby, the ball. And I got another keyboard, a curved one. NOTE: I have a congenital issue with my hands, instead of pointing upward, like most hands do, my point outward at a fairly significant angle. Curved keyboards feel better.

But this new keyboard isn’t quiet, the keys don’t feel like they’re riding on air (remember, tires?), it’s sort of clunky-feeling. I’ll never forget Henry, my beloved keyboard. But I managed to type this, so things are looking up. And as always, I love my rollerball mouse. It rocks.

Am I Reliving the French Revolution?

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If you read my blog once in a while then you know I’m a writer. An author. I try to give a well-rounded, if somewhat… not gory. No, not gruesome… What’s the word– preternatural. Ooh, that works! I have a female, she’s strong and usually a little wild and crazy, and so is the male, and you know, something evil is attracted to whatever it is they have or they’re doing. They save the good, kill the evil, and everyone is happy. Sort of. I mean, at least our heroes are always happy. So there might be a castration here, a decapitation there-

Wait! That brings me today’s subject, children.

I was browsing through Kindle recently and noticed a line of paranormal books across the bottom. It looked as though someone had taken a guillotine and chopped off the heads of all these insanely hot male bodies. Huh. I looked over some more. Yeah, all these books had covers with males on them, but only their torsos. No heads. Very weird.

When I read one of those books, it’s like I’m having an encounter with the Headless Horseman. The author can describe the male protagonist till the cows come home. I want to see a picture. Of both, if there are two, and there usually are. I want to see his handsome/OK face and her beautiful/cute face. His scars, if he has any, or hers! His gorgeous eyes and full lips. Or whatever. And I really want to see her too. That’s why I don’t understand the sudden onslaught of torsos on books online. I assume they’re on paperbacks too, although I haven’t been in a library or a bookstore in quite a while. And if you order a print version, yep–Guillotine Was Here. Why??

When I work with my cover artist, I want everyone to know what my characters look like, as closely as she and I (me is NM, her in Brazil) can work it. All the way to the eye color and earrings, if there are any, his or hers. I want the reader to be able to look at the cover whenever they want and imagine who is doing what to whom. It helps bring the tale to life in my head. I can use up my imagination or other things that don’t necessarily need to have a picture drawn!

I’ve included the cover for my current Work-in-Progress. Now that is a couple. Two bodies, two heads. Thanks so much to my artist, Adriana Musetti Davila. She’s a treasure. Please, authors, include an entire person on your cover so I won’t have to put a pumpkin there.

When Quarantine Becomes a Way of Life – Mail Order!

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Who knew it would last this long? I think I’m supposed to say if not for my family, writing, and Amazon, I’d have gone mad long ago. But for me, at least, it hasn’t been that bad. I’m a homebody anyway, being forced to stay at home is like sending your child to her room when it looks like Best Buy in there. Tell me if you don’t know what that means.

What led me to share today is the weird things that have ended up in my home through Amazon. The latest thing was a little kit to give myself acrylic nails. I haven’t tried it yet, as my own nails are short and I’m afraid there’s nothing for the acrylic to grab onto. It’s hard to believe at my age I’m a biter! But I’ll give them a shot soon and report back—success or failure.

Another thing I bought with the greatest of hope is a skin for my keyboard. I have a Logitech Wave, which is a curved keyboard. I love my keyboard, but with cats climbing on it and the everyday dust that happens in the desert mountains, I needed to protect it. I swear I searched for a solid month before I found something promising. It wasn’t through Amazon, which made me leery (I’m indoctrinated), but I gave it a shot.

What arrived looked just like my Wave so I proceeded to put it on. Picture trying to put a plastic bag of air onto your keyboard. When I pushed down one side, it poofed up on the other. Finally, I got it settled down at bit. I turned in over, peeled off the covers for the double-sided tape, smoothed them down, and turned it back over. I think I got a gerbil stuck in there the way it moved up and down. I used a butter knife to push the boofy cover down alongside the keys, but as soon as I moved to the next row, the previous one shot back up. After a while at this, I was ready to send it back. This was ridiculous. I emailed their customer service explaining the issue and got a reply the next day: use a hairdryer on low on the cover. Believe it or not, that worked quite well!

Life went on. I’d actually gotten used to typing with a keyboard condom. It was a bit strange, and squishy, with a few more typos that usual, but my keyboard was protected! Until now, a couple of weeks later. The tape has come up, and the cover is creeping up from the bottom and loosening every thing. I’m going to get some more tape, I will not give up my protection now. I’m spoiled.

However… if anyone out there knows of a Wave keyboard cover that just lies on top of the keys like my old one on my old did, please let me know before I have to drag my hairdryer into my office again.

And Life is Back to Normal

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Steven is adjusting to his pacemaker. Fred has come home. I can concentrate on my writing again! I’m working on a book that’s more sci-fi than my typical fantasy, although there are elements of fantasy too. The protagonist’s name is Whern. She’s an Indigene, a genetically pure native who is born with mysterious Abilities. She’s an Arbiter in the Corporation, the military-based entity that runs her planet. For many years the 9th Sector has been plagued by Hostiles, attacking and robbing spaceships like common pirates, and then destroying them. For reasons kept from her, Whern has never been allowed to go offworld. With the help of her conniving Commanding Officer, she finagles the assignment to find the Hostiles. But her CO feels she can’t handle it alone and has plans to sneak aboard her ship. She doesn’t need anyone’s help and she’s a lot more devious than he ever thought she could be. Devious is just what she has to be, because the Hostiles are so much more–and lead to something shocking, that Whern’s world isn’t ready to confront.


I’m having so much fun with this! I’m constantly quizzing Steven about military stuff, as well as Jerry Loeb and Bruce Berg. I originally wrote this almost twenty years ago and it sure is taking a lot of updating!

Hope — There’s No Keeping It Down

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My cat, Fred, had been missing for a few days now. He must have gotten out through the garage when we were getting rid of packing boxes. We moved here a few months ago, but were saving the boxes–oh, that just doesn’t matter.

He is MY boy, he sits on my lap. He’s soft, a flame-point mix with white fur and crossed blue eyes. He’s very timid. And he’s gone.

I keep telling myself we’ll find him, then I sink into depression and tell myself he’s gone, he’s too naive to make it out in the wild on his own. I convince myself to stop worrying and thinking, I’ve called around, I’ve put a notice on Next Door, and even on a national pet connection site. I called our old neighbors, in case he somehow makes his way back to our old house on the other side of town. It has been known to happen (that’s called HOPE).

As I’m doing other things, I go to the door and call him. He’s such a little scaredy-cat, so timid. Being cross-eyed, everything must look scary to him. After reconciling myself to the fact that he might be gone–hit by a car or taken by the coyotes or the huge dogs around here, I still keep catching myself watching out the windows to see a flash of white, and calling for him.

I suppose that’s what hope is. I can’t make it go away. Until I either have him back, or know that he is gone, I can’t make myself stop hoping he will return. Hope must be a gift, something to keep you from falling into a cauldron of self-despair while you’re waiting for the bad thing to go away. Like a virus or an illness or a condition.

My husband just got a pacemaker and it’s making him feel so much worse. I’ve gained 18 pounds in the last two months. How does a person even do that? But there’s that hope–I will try harder to get those pounds to shrink back down, and he will visit the cardiologist today to figure how why his new hardware is wonky.

And Fred will come home.

Furry Fred

Introspection from a Quarantined Family

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Being quarantined has resulted in some strange goings-on in our household of two humans and six cats. Since we’re retired, we spend more time at home than other people we know, so the cats are fairly accustomed to our hanging around in their house more than we used to. Yes, we have cats that old. While there are some disagreements as to whose turn it is to sit in what chair, we generally send them flying off the item in dispute by throwing the treat bag across the room and leaving them to fight with it for a while trying to get to the treats.

Another, more insidious issue, is the TV. We have a large-screen TV, a “must have; I’m retired” item that has taken over our living room. Hubby used to be a news junky, but not anymore, it’s just too repetitive and depressing. I thought—wonderful! No more of that awful news! He will spend more time in his workshop, leaving me at peace in my office (right next to home-theater-sized TV), and we can have a nice lunch, watch some TV… But no, instead, he has discovered YouTube. I watch YT at times 😉; I like to read about entitled people getting their comeuppance, and cheating spouses getting their comeuppance, and spoiled kids—yes, there’s a theme here. And I love to watch cats. Don’t we all? But hubby has discovered other kinds of videos. A man who demonstrates wood turning. Another one who talks about welding equipment and dismantling a pickup truck. We get the spend our lunch watching dashcams from various parts of Europe—those people have some serious driving issues! They are trying to kill each other. On a 5-lane road with no markings! It’s a free-for-all! And even more vidoes of people from here in U.S., trying even harder to kill each other! More videos, with people “brake-checking.” Apparently, this is something where you’re driving really fast, then out of nowhere, a car whips in front of you (I suppose at some time you irritated the driver, or your car is the wrong color), anyway, he jumps in front of you and slams on his brakes! And then they get incensed when you hit them! I just stare in wonder that these people are even driving. There’s a channel that does some nifty DIY stuff, he’s only marginally interested in that…so we watch it for a while. And then—this cracks me up—magnet fishing! Hubby used to have a metal detector many years ago; it’s in the garage sonewhere. He recently exchanged the idea of a metal detector for a magnet that must be 2-feet wide that he drags around the property, picking up metal objects. That’s legit—no one one wants the mower to launch a 4-inch nail through the air. But these videos show young men, or in particular, a young man and his dad, using magnets to troll rivers in the U.K. It’s great for bonding; that’s apparent, but can you imagine the wife at home—well love, what kind of crap have you found today and dragged home? Ah, an old, rusted bike frame and a road sign? You shouldnt have! And six old spikes and a piece of a bed frame? I can use those! They did find some money once, in fact, several bags of money… wrapped up with wax and other weird little things in bags–OMG, put those back! They’re voodoo or something! They found empty safes by the boatload. Where are all these safes coming from? That’s what I want to know! So, this is often our lunch and early afternoon viewing pleasure. I want to watch the cats—I get to watch a puma named Messi, who lives with a delightful young Russian couple! He is adorable! I recommend him: I Am Puma. But avoid the river magnet people. They are sooo boring. Even finding a gun or a grenade can’t liven them up.

Another quarantine issue, which I recently shared with FB friends, is that I am experiencing really dry skin now; unlike I’ve ever had before. Like “arms and legs with dandruff ” dry. Or “living on Mars in the summer with snowflakes coming off your body” dry! I don’t think the house is overly dry; I don’t get electrocuted when I walk across a carpet. Of course, I only have one carpeted room—my office. Where I spend a lot of time. Writing and being quarantined. And scratching.

My final quarantine observation has to do with ordering food online to pick up. Since a lot more people are doing this, the time between ordering and pickup can be two or three days. So I start out with an order of around $40, just essentials. And some pretzels. They’re important! Close up the order, pay, and tell Alexa to remind hubby a half-hour before pickup, the day after tomorrow. If you read my blog, you know that Alexa runs our lives. Anyway, not ten minutes later, I remember we need mustard. So I open the site, search for mustard, add it to cart, add that to order that hasn’t been picked up yet—anything else, dear?—and close. An hour later. Hubby: did you remember to put cat-litter in the order? 😬 Me: I asked you if that was everything! 🙄 Well sorry, I forgot! So shoot me. 😠 Open site, type in cat-litter, add to cart, etc. Order is now $48. By the next day, the order is up to $101. BTW, the first order had several large things–sodas and the like, so I didn’t request a 10¢ each, plastic bag for the things to be packed into. The employee could just toss them into the back; most of it was going into the garage refrigerator anyway. Once you say no to bags, you don’t get to go back and beg for bags. I’m not going to tell hubby that tomorrow morning, $101 worth of groceries are going to be tossed into the back of the car, while he sits up front, with the windows rolled up, in his mask. 😟

We will get over this, of course we will, even if it takes a little longer than we hoped it would. Some of the things that have changed in our lives are huge. But it’s still the little things that seemed to get under your skin. And make you itch.

A Room with a Scream

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When we moved to our idyllic little house in the mountains, I was so happy (still am!). A small slab of mountain behind us, and one across the freeway. Freeway? Yes, the freeway, or at least a small section of road, is visible from our front yard. And our picture window. But when we were viewing the house, we sat inside with the doors and windows closed, and then with the windows open, and we couldn’t hear anything, so we decided that really didn’t matter. We’re still in the beautiful mountains, in our sweet, little village. NOTE: There is also a substation next door, but I’ve addressed that in an earlier post.

The day comes when we move our furniture from the city to our little cottage in the–yeah, yeah you get it. We now live in the mountains. After an exhausting day of directing the movers where to put what (they don’t follow directions very well so there was a lot more work to do after they left), it’s time to make the bed and fall into it! It’s so quiet, serene, cold… we like it cold. It’s November, in the mount–yes. We open the windows and snuggle under our quilts. The bedroom cat crawls under. She’s like, what the hell? It’s cold out there! NOTE: Anny Catt (bedroom cat) is 4 lbs of terror; she hates everything on earth but hubby, tolerates me, tries to kill our other 5 cats on sight (remember, she weighs 4 lbs) so she lives in our bedroom. One of our cats weighs 18 lbs, another 20, the others aren’t much smaller A fight is not a pretty sight.

So, we’re all fast asleep, when in the middle of the night, coyotes run by. We’re accustomed to that, we had them running through the arroyo behind our old house, howling and freaking out the cats. It’s kind of a cool sound, sometimes it makes the hair on my airs rise, but it so nature! Only these coyotes sound like they’re standing under our window! They are so loud, they wake me up, my heart pounding. They go rushing by, probably running in the dry creek bed behind our house, or alongside the mountain on the other side of the creek. But they go by fairly quickly and me, hubby, and cat soon so back to sleep.

And then it happens. A ghastly scream breaks the dawn. We both fly up. Cat runs further under the quilts, growling. Silence, then another scream, and another. Dear God, is someone killing someone in our backyard? Hubby runs to the window and slams it shut. No dear, you can’t make the killer go away by shutting a window. By the time he gets to the other window, the next scream ends with a tiny, doodle-doo… Another scream-doodle-doo. It’s a freaking rooster. It sounds like a woman being stabbed to death! I swear!

“Why aren’t the damned coyotes eating that thing?” I demand blearily. “Is that what they’re doing down here, hunting for it?” Can we call animal control? Probably not, we’re living in nature now! Hubby Googles, “how long do roosters live?”

It’s now March and that damned thing wakes us up at dawn nearly every morning, unless we sleep with the windows shut, which we rarely do. Even in the middle of winter, they’re open a crack. Apparently, that’s all the room the sound needs to filter through.

I’m at wits end. I’ve wondered if there’s such a thing as a noise-sensitive floodlight. Or, we can get a screaming goat. You’ve seen them on YouTube. They also sound like a murder victim. If the rooster awakened them, would they scream back? Maybe an airhorn? I don’t know; it’s hard to think rationally at 6 a.m.

So, that’s the view from the bedroom.

In other news regarding the view from my office (substation), we’ve contacted the electric company. The bemused gentleman who came and looked agreed–we need something to put between our house and the eyesore. He wonders why the people who lived here before didn’t do it. I don’t care. I just want to look out my office window and not see an EMP-machine living next door.

Self-Quarantined? I'd Like to Invite You to Read Books One and Two from an Epic Fantasy Series

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The first two books from my series, The Ring-Witches of Nesht, Dragon Rings and Dragon’s Revenge are on sale through 04/04/2020, for .99 each! And as always, both are free on KU.

Something dark and terrible is striking unseen in the night, bringing death and ruin to the peaceable lands of Nesht, and then vanishing back into the cold mists of the surrounding mountains. Two powerful Ring-Witches, Mayra and Wolfe, join uneasy forces to investigate the ongoing—and very puzzling—destruction. How can something be formidable enough to incinerate entire villages and tracts of forests, slaughtering people and animals, yet leave behind massive amounts of valuable gold and jewels? What do these savage invaders want? As they investigate, they hear and feel a large, powerful presence—but it refuses to show itself. When they probe, it brings scorching, mind-rending pain to Mayra—and then inconsolably apologizes for its actions! When Mayra finds a huge, bloodstained talon, she finally knows what that destructive force is—a dragon. A creature so long unseen they are a myth. Once upon a time, dragons treasured witches as allies. What has changed? Why are they attacking humans? Mayra and Wolfe must learn the truth and stop a war the humans cannot possibly win. But joining the dragons would be more than just betraying their king, it could mean their deaths. For Mayra and Wolfe and their small, fierce assembly of witches learn that there are some things worth more than a life. Some causes that even mighty dragons will die for. https://www.amazon.com/Dragon-Rings-Ring-Witches-Nesht-Book-ebook/dp/B075H39PVD/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Powerful Ring-Witches, Mayra and Wolfe have fled their kingdom, accompanied by their witch-warrior friends, escaping with the dragons they rescued. But once they reach the dragon’s cold homeland, they find an empty Aerie. Where are the dragon females and the younglings? Barely do the witches have time to rest before they are winging their way to rescue the stolen dragons—but this one is challenging from the beginning. The witches quickly find themselves trapped in a vast system of caverns with Hagan, an evil, fanatical dragon. With his helpers—a greedy shapeshifter and a wrathful gnome, he has stolen something precious from the dragons and hidden it away. Mayra is running out of time. If she doesn’t wrest a powerful talisman from Hagan’s control before he can use it, he will take control of all the noble dragons that Mayra loves. Hagan threatens to kill his hostages—the female dragons and their tiny offspring, unless Mayra leaves him to collect his terrible treasure from its hiding place. Can Mayra and Wolfe rescue the dragons—large and small—and the talisman before Hagan and his irrational accomplices destroy all that the mighty dragons hold dearest to them? It won’t be as easy this time, for Hagan, a wielder of dark dragon magic, dares the humans to battle him—the most savagely horrific dragon ever hatched. https://www.amazon.com/Dragon-Rings-Ring-Witches-Nesht-Book-ebook/dp/B075H39PVD/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8tore

A Room with a “View”

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We moved to our wee village in November, 2019. When we purchased our property, we knew (since we can hardly avoid seeing it) that there was a bit of an eyesore on it, that is, the village substation which takes its royal place as part of our property. We went ahead and purchased it because we were aware of laws that require the electric company (EC) to put up landscaping to make our property a bit more pleasant. We can’t imagine why the previous owners never requested the EC plant trees to hide the Decepticon from view, but getting the EC to pay for and plant landscaping is just the sort of challenge Steven (hubby) lives for.

This Blight is what I see out my office window. Steven brushed up on the pertinent laws and contacted the EC. According to them there is money in the budget, and they sent someone out to have a look. We contacted them again yesterday, after giving them two months to think about our plight. The conversation:

EC: Yes, we should get trees. However… trees must be watered. Where will this water come from?

Steven: We have city water, and a well that we use to water our property. You can use that. We just want the Blight hidden so my lovely, patient wife doesn’t look out her window and think of Transformers, versus the elves and witches she prefers to write about.

EC: Hmm… not sure if that’s doable. We’ll get back to you soon!

So, here we are. I am sitting at my desk, looking out my window at the Blight. We installed lovely burgundy mini-blinds, so I can shut those, but then my cats can’t look out at the birds (those of us with cats know what blinds that are attempting to thwart a cat look like). I will update my woeful tale if or when details become available.

The View from my Office
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