We ordered a chest freezer from Home Depot a few weeks ago with delivery expected a few days ago. That date moved out to Friday — no big deal. Prior to placing the order, we chatted with their customer service to verify that home delivery actually meant delivery into the house because there are all sorts of places that are considered “delivered”. And it would suck to get a big chest freezer at the bottom of our driveway and have the company call it delivered. We confirmed, multiple times, that the home delivery service would be able to navigate our narrow driveway and that the item would be delivered into the room of our choosing.
And then the delivery company called today. They only have a 26-foot box truck, so they will deliver the freezer to the bottom of our driveway. Several frustrating calls to Home Depot later — we were hung up on by a very rude agent who just kept telling us that the delivery company is a third party so there’s nothing Home Depot can do about it. And that “delivery” is only to the doorstep. This agent hung up on us. We finally got someone slightly helpful — delivery still means doorstep, and if the third party delivery service only has a 26-foot truck that’s what they have … but this rep was at least pleasant and willing to finish the conversation.
What really bothers me, though, is no one at Home Depot’s customer service seemed interested in knowing that the online chat folks are absolutely telling customers that “home delivery” means into the room of your choosing. Depending on one’s home, this could be a very big difference — like our case where the delivery service wants to leave the box a couple hundred feet down at the bottom of the driveway. We offered to send them the names and chat sessions to ensure agents are getting appropriate training, but nothing. We have, on three separate occasions and speaking with three different agents, been informed that the “home delivery” service means the appliance will be delivered into the room of my choosing — and warned that multiple flights of stairs would be an extra charge.
I get why race norming is objectionable — but why in the world are they norming at all?! I’d hate if I had some accident & the analysis of my decline was based off of some American norm or a global norm. It’s not like “getting a bunch of concussions” is a black swan event for footballers, either. So why wouldn’t they routinely administer these cognitive tests for each player? Someone puts in a claim? Their current cognitive functionality isn’t compared to some normalized baseline. It’s compared to their documented trajectory.
The CDC’s revised health guidance has a lot of people celebrating — taking off their masks and rejoicing. From a psychological standpoint, I get it. But, from a functional perspective? I don’t get the mask hatred. There’s some work we do outside (cleaning chicken coops, mowing grass, using a chainsaw) where it’s great not to inhale dust and pollen. Since we’ve got masks, we wear them. Even if SARS CoV-2 were completely eliminated from the solar system, I don’t want your cold. Or your flu. Or whatever other respiratory illness.
Before we had Anya, I thought I had an amazing immune system. I was rarely sick — like once every five or ten years. Since Anya started school — preschool, grade school — I’ve learned that I just didn’t have much exposure to pathogens. With a kid in school, everyone in the household was sick basically from November through April. I cannot believe vast swaths of the population spend half of the year sick! This past year, though? Not a sniffle (well, at least not a sniffle until pollen started blowing around in visibly yellow clouds). Why wouldn’t we continue to wear a mask and avoid the gamut of respiratory illnesses?!
We managed to get a lightsaber in the Dungeon Adventure game. Scott said something like “try to smash the chest with the morningstar”, and a screen came up with the ‘do or do not, there is no try’ and said we had a new weapon. Checked the weapon list and, hey, there’s a super powerful weapon. Damage is 7d6 — so better than the super sword we were hoping to find somewhere in the dungeon.
I hate that Musk (and many other people) conflate a real condition with permission to be a jerk. You learned something about how your brain or biochemistry work and can use this information to relate better with others? Great! You learned something about how your brain or biochemistry work and take that as permission to mistreat people, defame them, etc? No good. I get PMS. It doesn’t mean I get to scream at people and verbally abuse them for a week every month.
If he had someone reading his tweets before publishing — to ensure he wasn’t, say, about to call a stranger a pedo — I’d be more accepting of the “I have Aspbergers” announcement because the announcement would have continued with “… and I understand that things I don’t consider offensive really bother people, so I’ve taken this concrete step to avoid inflicting harm on others in the future”. Similarly, considering yourself a visionary because you don’t care enough about others to think that their near certain death isn’t a big obstacle to colonizing Mars? I think that’s callousness.
Anya rescued a frog today. It had rained overnight, and the frog somehow hopped on top of our chicken tractor. It got stuck in the screen that covers the top of the tractor. Anya managed to pick up the frog, and she carried it back to our pond. It hopped out of her hands when they were close to the pond.
Scott’s going fishing, and Anya and I made dough balls for trout bait. Mix 1 cup all purpose flour, 1/3 cup corn meal, and 1-2T garlic powder (I used 1.5T of garlic powder, and it’s really garlicy).
Add enough water to make a firm but slightly sticky dough.
Pinch a bit of dough and roll between your palms to form into blueberry sized balls. Some of ours got a little big!
Drop in boiling water for 1-2 minutes.
Remove and place on napkin/towel (or, in my case, a perforated silicone baking mat) to dry. Cool for an hour then freeze overnight.
We’ve occasionally talked about going down to the SPCA and picking up one of their “barn cats“. I assume this is something that’s available at a lot of rural animal shelters — less socialized animals that you aren’t required to keep indoors. Thought a young cat that grew up around chickens would probably leave them alone (they’re fairly large and happy to defend themselves), and Anya has been really into cats since she discovered the Warrior Cat series. We see a few neighbor’s cat wandering around — a big white one, a chocolate point one — and the highlight of her day is just seeing a cat. For the last few weeks, we’ve also seen a black cat. I mentioned to Anya how some people consider them bad luck, and how the shelter I used to volunteer at had more trouble adopting them out.
Today, we were working out in the yard. The chickens were roaming around (well, the big ones anyway — the little guys tend to stay really close to the tractor when they are allowed out). Scott, Anya, and I were getting the hop arbor set up. The black cat came up out of the valley, walked toward us, and meowed. The big chickens, who had been digging around the compost, froze. The baby guys obliviously chirped and ran around the tractor. Tilly, our Columbian Wyandotte, flew/ran over toward the tractor and put herself right between the cat and the chicks. That was really cool to see — the bigger guys will actually protect the chicks. The rest of the chickens made their way toward their coop. I moved toward the chicken tractor too, and Anya went toward the cat to get him moving in a different direction. And it wanted a snuggle.
So she got to spend an hour or so petting a cat (and dragging a rope around for a cat to play with). After a big chicken got close enough to the cat for it to really appreciate the size of a chicken (and that chicken was Sunshine, our very large Buff Orpington), the cat didn’t bother the chicks. It’s an in tact male — strange combo since “in tact” usually means feral, but it’s super friendly. More friendly than any cat I’ve ever owned — my cats loved their family, but they’d hide from strangers. I left my number with the police and SPCA in case someone’s missing this guy, but the police said they get a lot of calls about cats dumped in the park (which is odd — we’ve lived here six years now, and I’ve never encountered a dumped pet … but it’s a big park). I’ve posted a pic to the usual social media places — community FB group, etc; but Anya’s hoping we’ve scored our barn cat 🙂
The big sugar maple in our front yard has budded out — no more sap from it this year!