The End is Here!!

 

Well, the end of the year, not to be too melodramatic! And good-bye 2021!!

Sorry but maybe it IS the end of civilization as we have known it. I attempted to buy Bob a new TV for Christmas. Here's our old TV: 

Probably a lovely set in it's day but it's got a gigantic back that sticks out a good 18" and it doesn't have a very large picture area. It's old! And the modem that we require to allow the TV to "talk" to the dvd player needs a firm whack every few minutes to keep it running. (*1) We decided we needed a new TV.

 So I purchased what looked to me to be a huge step up; like 32" (diagonal) screen. And in all fairness, I'd done a ton of research and determined the brand and approximate size but was utterly intimidated and bowled over by all the enormous screens on view at the store. I felt like I'd crawled out from under a rock. I quickly selected my 32" set and fled the store.

I presented it to Bob on Christmas and we were both excited at the prospect of watching TV while lying in bed and feeling all luxurious and up-to-date. But somehow, I had misgivings when we brought the TV upstairs. It looked less huge; in fact, I thought it looked small. We debated for a while and finally agreed. We'd go one size up.

(Another consideration is this lovely sculpture that resides on top of the TV cabinet. The cabinet needs to accommodate TV and sculpture. Then we to arrived at wall mounting the TV and put the sculpture on another surface...)

So we went to the store- for us a still unusual excursion as COVID has kept us close to home and away from "the public"- and return the new but too small TV. We scouted the rear of the big box store, found the bigger TVs and instead of the 40", I see Bob's eyes go wide and he says, "That's the perfect size!" pointing at a 43" model. So we truly did graduate from old set to 32" all the way up to 43". (*2) The punchline is that they had two of these behemoths in stock, but the boxes were water damaged and we didn't want to take a chance on a defective TV and another return trip. I finally ordered the 43" on-line.

So we're awaiting delivery of the new member of our household. I alluded to the end being near and part of me is afraid of the novelty of a giant screen. Will it become so seductive as to reduce the time we spend reading? Will we become "like everyone else", glued to a huge screen and watching endless hours of mindless dreck? I fear for our future! Oh well, welcome to 2022!

(*1) We tried to purchase a new modem-thing and were laughed out of BestBuy and WalMart. How's that for humiliation?!? 

(*2) And yes, there are far gigantic-er tVs out there. 65", 75"... we'd have to get a bigger wall to make space for these "home theaters". And neither one of us wants our lives dominated by a TV that big!

 

Living the Life Historical

 

The other day, while out gleaning the field of horse poop, it dawned on me that I could be a peasant from any time in history. Essentially my activity- and even my garb- could have been from two, three, four (or more) hundred years ago. I asked Bob to document me in all my earthy glory. And it confirmed what I feared: I make a pretty good peasant.

A case in point. Same pitchfork (well, mine is plastic and came from tractor Supply. She probably made hers!), same basic stance, similar head gear (but her ground length skirt is fetching!)... you get the idea. I probably staggered off to lunch on the same moldy potatoes as her!

This is a painting by Kazimir Malevich entitled something like "Peasant Out in the Field" I don't know where his pitchfork went, but he's got that same attitude as me and the romanticized peasant in the above painting or even this woman with a wheelbarrow by Millet. Notice how our "technology" hasn't changed!

(She's probably praying that she smells better than I do when I'm done collecting manure!) I rest my case. I could be whisked back in time in some accident created by a tesseract! Why, I'd fit right in! Further oddball illustration is the below picture sent to me by my sister Cathy (Hi Cathy!). It purports to be a photo promoting vacationing in Estonia- one 1/2 of our family background. I'd look at home among these fine folks, too!

Satan's Pony

Doesn't Neko just look the picture of innocence all sleepy in the morning sun? Isn't she sweet? Isn't she just the bestest little pony? Ha! Don't let her fool you for one minute. Neko has been busy devising devious plots and dastardly deeds!

The other day, at around 6:30 when it's still dark, I go to feed the horses. Usually there are two semi-visible silhouettes near the top of the field, eagerly awaiting their slops 'n' grub. This morning, I'm seeing Maggie and I think, "Oh, Neko must be in the barn or lower down in the field".  But as I round the barn, I see Neko and it takes a minute for me to decipher why she looks odd. Then I realize she's on the wrong side of the fence!

She herself seems a tad confused or embarrassed (yes, I'm anthropomorphizing) and follows me through the side gate, docile and hungry. I know now that this is not the first time she has escaped; last week, Bob announced that there were piles of horse poop behind his studio. I said, "Nay; it cannot be our horses. They're both present and accounted for"... which they were. A careful tour of the fence perimeter showed no signs of having been pulled down so we came to the conclusion that someone else's horse must have gotten loose and come to visit Maggie and Neko. But having found her on the wrong side of the fence, I now know better.

Neko's like, "Whaddyou lookin' at?" It still remains quite a mystery how she got herself through the ELECTRIC fence- unscathed- and back inside (last week). I realize poor Neko is certain she's starving to death and must escape from our evil pasture to find sufficient forage, but she really is a Houdini. She had no scrapes, no damage to her person, did not disrupt the fence. The fact that she got herself back in; I just don't know how she did it.

Hopefully, she will be unable to duplicate her recent nightly escapades as I ran out to Home Depot and secured a bundle of fiberglass poles and reinforced the fence line. (Like I really felt like doing this... I was hoping to go for a ride that afternoon.) She came to the bottom of the field and watched me insert the new poles, as I lectured her about her perfidy. I wish she were contrite!

Later that same day, I caught her with her big fat head pushed sideways, between the mesh fence and the hot electric line, bending another section of fence down so as to snack on the other side. Bob and I are in the process of replacing this fence line, as it is old and rusty. But now we're required to double up on the electric line. Ah! The joys of horse ownership!