What It's Like To Be All Of Me: Television

When I read a book or watch television or listen to the radio, my Internal English Teacher, Writer, and Editor immediately report for duty. It's incredibly exhausting, dragging these people around with me constantly. I wish they'd go away. They make my life a constant trial, like having that itchy tag in the back of your shirt when you're impossibly occupied and can't do a thing about it. Or like when your neighbour suddenly and inexplicably hangs wind chimes, and you never get another quiet evening out on the patio ever again. Or when you feel like you have something in your eye, but you absolutely cannot see what it is, let alone get the damn thing out. These Alter Egos endlessly alert me to little faux pas in grammar, spelling, mechanics, and usage in both written and spoken language. Why? Why? It's not like I can do a single thing about them other than Despair and Lament, Wail and Gnash My Teeth, and otherwise Moan and Fret about the downward spiral of The Language and The Intellect Of Our Country.

It's a good thing I Drink.

Here's a couple of examples from TV:

A week or so ago, one of the cutest on-the-spot reporters for the local Cleveland news affiliate was on the scene of a pretty big fire that included an explosion. Brandon--that's his name--was standing in the foreground of the devastation, and here's how part of his segment went:

Brandon: As you can see, Sarah, the building is a total loss, and there's damage to the property beside it as well. Several other neighbouring fire departments had to be called out to contain the blaze.

Sarah: Oh my. What about casualties? Was anyone hurt?

Brandon: Well, there is some good news there, Sarah. The people inside weren't there.

?!?!?!?!

Sigh. It's a good thing I love Brandon. It really is.

This next one is from a commercial for a legal team. For some reason, lawyer commercials are particularly bad at mechanics and grammar. "We" try to have my phone ready to snap a picture every time one comes on.

thought I'd better obscure the phone #

How in the hell is a dead person going to call for a free legal consultation? Just who are these people marketing to? WHAT IS HAPPENING OUT THERE? AND WHY MUST I ALWAYS BE ALERTED TO IT?

Am I alone in this? Share your Irks or at least make me feel better in Comments.


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No Wine Left Behind

Just when I thought I couldn't take It anymore--It being my scary bad Haircut, the unrelenting Heat, the constant Barrage Of Badness out of 45*, and a lot of Extraneous Crap that would not stop Fraying My Edges and provoking the Control Freak In Me--it was suddenly time for our Jaunt to Niagara-on-the-Lake, Canada. Even though we had just zipped up in May for an event at our favourite winery, we were still determined to make our usual Summertime Visit.

I'm so glad we did.

We've made so many, many friends there that it feels like home to us. After checking in with Tim who owns the little inn where we always stay, we drove to a nearby winery to grab a bottle of a deep, smoky Meritage to sip later that evening on our balcony. The suite's balcony is nestled in among the branches of a stately, primeval redwood, whose fronds shade us and give us lovely privacy, yet provide enough glimpses of the beautiful garden below.

Our two days of wine tasting (and wine buying!) were not only fun, but they were illuminating. Rick and I both love to learn about all the aspects of winemaking and winery operations. We tasted wine from the tanks, wine that was still being coaxed out of bottle shock, and some wines that were experimental in the way that they were produced. You'll be happy to know that I proposed marriage a fourth time to my favourite winemaker (and was accepted!), and his daughter now refers to me as her second mother.

But it still didn't get me the last of the Sauvignon Blanc out of his library that I really, really wanted. Not this time. (But I did score some more of their 2015 Merlot, and they were kind enough, upon hearing that it was our 37th anniversary, to gift us a bottle of their sparkling Blanc De Noir. Gorgeous stuff, both of those.)

Despite the fact that we bought a ton of wine in May, we bought another ton. "The American dollar is really great right now," said my winemaker husband's Other Wife. "You're practically getting this for free!" Sounded good to me. (Or, as my American husband Rick always says, "It's only money; I'll just make more!") And...what if that Petit Verdot or Cabernet Franc or Savagnin or...all of it was gone next time we came? I don't need Regrets. Not when it comes to Wine; there are so many in Life already.


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Dipping A Toe Back In

original image from cattime.com

No matter who said it (and the disagreement about its origin is brisk and ongoing), Absence really does make the heart grow fonder. I've missed writing here. I've missed sharing Stuff In General with others. I've missed the Shape it gives to some of my Days, however vague that Shape may have been. So I'm going to sort of pick up where I left off, but follow much of my own Retirement Philosophy here, including the objective of Streamlining.  For example:

I've already tossed most of my Sidebar Elements, which were worky and cluttery. Links are now on a separate page, tabbed up top. I've had to eliminate Anonymous comments because they were all--without exception--being left by spammers. Blogger (owned by Google), as I said before, has disallowed Open ID commenters. If you don't have any one of a number of Google accounts, you'll either have to open one or I'll lose you as a commenter. This is upsetting, but I can't do anything about it.

My posts might be shorter.  I might not labour so painstakingly over them.  I might try to stop being such a Gold Standard Perfectionist.  Seriously, I might.

Your support, encouragement, and empathy in Comments on my last post gave me a great deal of help. So did the continued reading of your blogs (and others'). And so did the time away.

June was a very odd month.  I felt a little like a jar of mayo--kept refrigerated and only allowed out for short amounts of time lest I get too warm.  July is not proving to be all that much better.  Thank goodness for early mornings and very dark sunglasses, or I'd never get my walks in (sans le makeup,  the victim of a Very Bad Haircut).

It's feeling pretty good to Be Back.  Catch me up in Comments.