On the Fritz and Perfectly Lovely

by Donna Schoenkopf

I’m writing this by e-mail. Just like I did last week. No helpful word processor. Computer troubles abound.

But you guys should know about that. After all, you couldn’t even read these words unless you have a computer and chances are that means you’ve been punched in the face by your own computer.

When our machines break it’s an emotional thing. Our machines are extensions of our bodies. If our car has problems, it’s as though we’re crippled and can’t move. If our television goes, it’s as though our eyes and ears have gone blind and deaf. When our machines break, we break.

It began with my DSL service. It was refusing to lock onto the signal from outer space. I eventually went with an upgrade. I hate HughesNet, but it’s the only one which will enter this no man’s land. I signed onto another two year contract and paid $40 for the upgrade.

But that didn’t alleviate my computer problems. It freezes and then jumps wildly like a fish with fluke infestation. (Look it up. It’s horrible.) Then it turns on me, erasing lines of words without any warning. It doesn’t remember my name. It wants me to relicense my word processor. It won’t let me play games. It won’t let me on my control panel.

All this after two stints in the shop this past week and $173.

But my DSL service is working like a charm. Too bad I can’t use it.

And then ...

There’s Diego the Dog’s foot. He came home three days ago, walking on three feet. His right front paw was held up painfully as he hopped up to the house. He was soaking wet. (He takes a short cut home from Neighbor Jim’s by sploshing through his pond.) I checked out his foot, splaying his toes. Felt up his leg. He didn’t flinch or whine. What the hell was WRONG?

And he really, really stunk. Not like the time with the skunk. This was the smell of rotting dead flesh. I’m pretty sure he must have dug up the dead armadillo and rolled in it. I buried it out in the forest about two weeks ago.

WHY do dogs like putrid smells?? I bet he thinks of himself as beautifully cologned and very, very sexy.

The smell is so bad it almost makes me gag. And he sleeps on his blanket next to my bed! I’m going to TRY to wash him today. He hates it. And he’s so big that I have a difficult time controlling him. I usually put a leash on his collar and then tie him up to my outside pump. He goes crazy and tries to get out of the situation, one time almost hanging himself. I am not looking forward to this.

ANYWAY, the second day I decided I wouldn’t give up on his foot, as he was still hopping along on three legs. This time I thoroughly checked really each and every toe, squeezing and moving them. I felt for swelling from a snake bite or a twisted something or other. Several times. Until FINALLY I found the problem—a cut curiously hidden in an odd place under and around his middle toe.

I got out the antibiotic ointment because I was NOT going to the vet. Diego had his vet visit last month for vomiting. They did a panel of screening for heartworm, etc., and found nothing. I was told not to let him eat table scraps.

Fifty dollars. Thank you very much.

So we’ll just cure that cut foot ourselves.

And today, he’s walking on all fours. And the smell is almost gone. Naaaahhh. He just walked past me and he still is reeking.

Speaking of reeking ...

My septic system has been reeking. It was burbling up from the ground, some distance down the hill where the line ended. I don’t know if it’s because there was so much snow this past winter, saturating the ground, or because I just didn’t make the system larger. I have a feeling it was the latter.

In any !) and

DAMMIT!!! I am leaving the above words just to SHOW you that my computer erased a whole paragraph this time, without my permission!

DAMMIT!!

As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted ... (Let’s see. I have to gather my thoughts again ...)

In any event, I decided I wanted to use the gray water from my washing machine to water the grass on the eastern side of my house, AND lighten the burden of my septic system, so I went to Lowe’s and got forty feet of hose and attached it to the washing machine, replacing the short piece. It worked great! I was really proud. Except, the water wouldn’t drain completely out of the hose once the machine stopped. It was too long. So I got my pruning shears and cut it in half. Now it works fine. But Lowe’s won’t take back the piece I cut off. $34 down the drain.

Guess what? I had to rewrite the last two sentences TWICE. The ghost in the machine strikes again. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

And another thing. My television mysteriously scrambles channels 307 and 323 (HBO and Showtime). I put up with it for a while because I HATE calling technical support, but finally gave in because I was paying for those two channels. They sent a nice young feller out. He was from Buffalo, New York and we had a great time talking about moving to Oklahoma. We both had gained a bunch-o-weight. Fried food.

ANYWAY, he “fixed” it. 307 and 323 worked for a few days. Now they don’t. Have to call them again. Grrrrrrrrr.

Yes, it’s been a couple of weeks of fritzing. Not a pleasant time. But ...

YESTERDAY was one of those glorious spring days. Temperature in the 70s. Beautiful sky. Soft breezes. The world called to me, “Come outside, Donna.” A call so alluring I couldn’t refuse. So even though I’ve gotten older this past winter due to complete inertia, and fatter, due to Oklahoma’s deep fried cuisine, I responded.

There is nothing like looking around your very own property and seeing each little thing you’ve done the past year popping back into existence. It is incredibly gratifying.

I had planted some delicate dichondra-like ground cover near the back door and it has sprung back with force, each leaf bigger than last year. It glows green against the soil. It has doubled in size and grows bigger each day. And all it took was a couple of minutes last year to take it out of its little pot and dig a crappy little hole and plop it in. I love it.

And the grass and clover! I threw grass seed haphazardly on the ground and it has all greened up and is spreading. It does have a purplish tinge in its blades, though, which means it needs more phosphorus. Bone meal.

The clover is popping out all over. I threw clover seed out, too, last year. It turned out to be the kind of clover you plant for cattle. It grows high, instead of low to the ground. But I love it just the same. It is sooooo good for the soil. It is a dark, dark green and already has little yellow blossoms on it.

And the lilac bushes have pushed out leaves! I got them a year or so ago from the agriculture office. They wouldn’t let me buy just a few. They have to sell them in large lots. So I paid a guy to let me have a few of his. And now their little sticks have turned back into green leaves. They look real perky. I can’t wait for their beautiful lavender blossoms to emerge. Some are planted in the front “yard” and the rest are in the creek bed that runs down my hill that my outdoor shower water cut into the soil on the eastern side of the house.

The seven cottonwood trees I’ve planted have all sent their leaves out, too. (And some of them have the purple tinge.) I am amazed that two of them made it at all. A friend had backed over them, breaking them off at ground level, but tiny leaves are poking out. The life force is powerful.

And my apple trees! They are leafed out and have actual blossoms! I can’t believe they’ve survived in my clay soil. Yes, the life force IS powerful.

And wildflowers are popping out all over. Yellow and white and purple. They nestle close to the ground or sprout up. Some tiny violets peep out from the grass. They remind me of my daughter.

My compost heap has come alive, sprouting new babies everywhere. I assume those little leaves will be tomatoes and cucumbers and melons.

Birds trill and flit from tree to tree—little finches and cardinals and chickadees among the many whose names I do not know.

It is exquisitely beautiful.

Yin and yang. On the fritz and perfectly beautiful.

Beautiful, as usual, outweighs the fritzy.

As it should.

Have to go now. I am picking up Angela Davis’ two remaining puppies to give away at Kmart.

Wish me luck.

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