I got an email from the water utility Friday, saying I’ve been using 92 gallons an hour for the last week. I can’t wait to see that bill. We tried turning off the water. It seemed to work. I sent an email back to the utility. Monday I got a new email saying it was flowing at 59 gallons an hour. Back to the basement.
I tried clamping off the outlet hose and made my own water park in the basement, complete with fountain. D’uh! So I fiddled with the controller until I got the water stopped. However, that stopped the water from flowing into sinks and things. Fortunately, I was able to get a plumber out in an hour. I now have water, just not soft water.
I can deal with that for the short-term. My next project is to drain the water heater, but that can wait until I get the new softener — next year, which is like tomorrow. What a great start to the year.
Hopefully, 2026 will be survivable. Happy New Year!
Has someone ever apologized to you in a way that made you feel worse? You know the one — “I’m sorry you feel that what I did…” I hate those non-apologies.
When issues are brought up, instead of apologizing for the hurt and changing the behavior that was pointed out, the offender puts the burden of the apology upon the person who brought it up.
I will go into semantics here: “I’m sorry for my actions” is different from “I’m sorry that you felt my actions were ______” — one puts the burden of apology on the apologizer’s shoulders and the other shunts blame onto the person you are apologizing to.
“I’m sorry that you felt my actions were ______” is not a true apology. And sometimes this nuance is lost on folks. It’s natural to be defensive because the action was not meant to be offensive and you don’t want to be seen as a bad person. But here’s the thing— seeing the incident as coloring your whole person and then defending yourself is not the correct action.
You are entitled to your opinions and reaction, but often times the reaction seems to be on the side of ignoring what the other party said and continuing to do the action the same way. The inability to see how your actions may have hurt others and the refusal to change or adapt your approach to make less pain for others is the real problem.
I’ve done this and then felt bad about how I said things as apologies. Sometimes I am able to re-do the apology by saying, “that came out wrong.” But many times, the person is so hurt by my failure to take responsibility, that it’s the end of a friendship or working relationship.
This came up because I was cleaning out files and found some conversations and documents from an incident that happened a few years ago.
A member of an organization I was a member of, decided that my bookkeeping should be audited because when I took over treasurer duties, I corrected the way the books were done. Previous treasurers who had no training or experience with bookkeeping software, were keeping the records from the date of the board meeting to the day of the next meeting.
I had two previous jobs where I was allowed budgets for payroll and book repair. I had to track expenditures and file reports. I was also treasurer for a social organization. In all these situations, I kept meticulous records.
So the first thing I did when I became Treasurer for the other organization was to go through the software and set up the account from the first of the month to that last day. One of the members set up an audit with an accounting firm. The organization paid the bill, but the member was not happy that the accountant only recommended that the utilities be separated out for better tracking.
That’s where the “apology” came in. The person pulled a similar apology for something they did at a different time and as far as I know, they are no longer a member of the organization.
Well, the first thing was waiting for files to transfer to my backup drive from my laptop since I stupidly got rid of the working drive and kept the dead one.
The next thing was to trip over the cat and spill juice into said laptop and kill it. I swear I’m not brain dead, but it’s certainly starting to seem that way. Most files were in various clouds and a couple of external drives, so now I’m double-checking to see what’s missing.
Some files and programs are from a previous laptop that died midway through setting up the maker-space’s library. I pulled that hard drive, bought a housing for it and use that one for storage as well as a 2-terabyte portable storage device.
I use the portable drive to store files and programs to run on an inexpensive laptop I bought to keep at the maker-space to teach members to use software for our Cricut cutting machine and for use with other CNC tools such as the laser cutter, the big vinyl cutter, and the embroidery machine.
Right now, that’s my only computer until I save up for a better one. I still have my iPads, although the older one is used more for watching YouTube videos and is kept in my studio. There’re no programs of value on it except Pinterest, Slack, Zoom, Chrome, YouTube, and my maker-space email.
I’m still doing my watercolor project. I finally got caught up. I was a bit behind – by about six paintings, I think. I’m also making mini blank notebooks. They are tiny, suitable for a pocket or purse, and great as a small gift for a child. I’m doing some watercolor abstracts to be trimmed down as covers for the mini books.
This country was founded on a dream that all men could be free to live, worship, and find a way to start and make a better life. Later this freedom was extended to women, blacks, Native Americans, and immigrants fleeing oppression and poverty.
The dream has not yet been realized. The former slaves still endure harsh conditions, fueled by resentment that they were no longer slaves under control. Native Americans, confined to Reservations, with less opportunities of education, employment, and opportunity have a higher mortality and shorter lifespan of even poor Blacks and immigrants.
The quality of education has declined as politicians, less educated community members, and religious extremists have dumbed down, eliminated, or sanitized courses that would teach students the reality of our history, the responsibilities of citizenship, the general history of the rest of the world, and critical thinking.
Classrooms have become one-size education fits no one. The smarter students are dragged down by teachers having to spend more time with their less enthusiastic co-students. There is less incentive to do well because no one will acknowledge the work and effort put in.
As students in the “olden days,” most of us got the same basic level of education from first to ninth grades, depending on what part of the country we lived in. Students in poorer areas and some larger cities with larger poor populations did not always have the same opportunities for schooling.
Most students moved up grades. Some stayed behind for another year until they “got it.” A few were just passed along. Some students were able to choose classes that would lead to a career path.
Many students started to learn “life skills” — typing, drafting, home economics — in addition to higher maths, English composition, basic science skills, civics, history, and even a foreign language.
High School was where we separated into those who would most likely attend a college or university. The courses were harder — chemistry and biology, calculus and trigonometry, written language skills and research papers.
The second level of courses were for those students who would most likely become office workers — typing classes ( which were open to the College Prep students as well), bookkeeping, stenography, and business communications and business math.
The next level was general education. These were the students who had no interest in college or business, or had no means of getting into a place of higher education. They became auto mechanics, and repair persons, builders, and the folks who became the trash collectors.
We college prep folks and business students were taught to look down on these lesser beings — people who worked with their hands. We didn’t understand that these were the people who would ultimately live better lives as the people who kept our lights on, fixed the machinery that made and still make, our lives easy.
These were the folks who earned good money in the factories that made everything we used, grew and processed the food we ate, entered the military as a way to make a life. The funny thing about those folks — they were brainwashed into believing that they were not worthy unless their children went to college or business school to become better.
Which brings us to now— where we rely on immigrants to make and repair the equipment we use, to harvest our crops, to clean up our messes, to do the work that our families did to give us the lives we had.
And we complain about immigrants “taking our jobs!” The very jobs we were told by our parents and leaders that we were too good to do. And those migrants are sending their children to college to become like us— too proud to do the types of jobs our parents and grandparents did because it’s hard work.
It’s okay if you didn’t finish reading this. I lost track of where I was going anyway.
I’m almost caught up with my miniature watercolors. I set a schedule of one painting every three days. September and October had so many things going on that I got behind in painting Now, I’m only two paintings behind and I think I’m finding a way to do decent landscapes. I still need more practice.
Some framed mini paintings- you’ve seen these already..
As the self-appointed repairer of the vending machines, I failed to get the soda machine out of its “out of service” mode and had to call the person who sold us the machine. Because he was going out of town, he couldn’t get to us until Oct. 31st.
He got it working and I spent another hour testing and resetting the slots. He also gave some tips on keeping it running such as getting dust out of the cooling unit and cleaning out the junk that was stashed in there “in case we need it.” The machine is working better and I should be able to maintain it.
I’ve been teaching sewing to students from the city’s alternative high schools. We have two, with limited curricula for students who don’t do well in standard classes. They come to the maker-space to try things like woodworking, leather craft, sewing, stained glass, and pottery.
I’ve taught them to make pillow cases and stuff sacks, utility aprons with pockets, and our latest project – bags to use to microwave popcorn. When I teach them, I show them and explain each step of using the sewing machines, how to measure and cut fabric, and how to mark the seam lines by using a piece of masking tape as a guide next to the sewing foot.
This student has used a sewing machine before so she didn’t need the masking tape.
One of the teachers also made a bag.
When I take project pictures with these groups, I only picture the hands of the students since I don’t have parental or guardian permission to film them.
Medicare doesn’t cover annual physicals for us old folks. They only cover wellness checks. So I spent time mostly answering questions about my quality of life in the negative which confirmed the positive quality of my old age. Sounds odd, doesn’t it? Anyway, I passed, so I guess I’m doing well.
The Boomerang Child talked about getting some mental health treatment. As far as I can tell, he hasn’t made a move to do so. I fully expect to find him dead one day. I’ve had low periods— spent many an evening contemplating whether it would hurt for a long time if I slit some part of my body or if I took pills and drank alcohol, would I wake up in the morning.
The answer is yes, it hurts and I did wake up the next morning. More than once. The worst time was being held down while my stomach was pumped. I spent two weeks locked in the psych ward for that one. That was over 50 years ago. Now that I’m older, I don’t have time for that foolishness.
I’m still six paintings behind in working my way up to 100. I should have 83, but I’m only up to 79. I bought four frames from Dollar Tree and inserted some paintings. They’re not horrible.
I am still working on my 100 paintings project. In spite of disruptions, I’ve managed to complete 71. I was painting in my studio only, but have moved a paint palette back home to paint when my son borrows my car. I don’t fancy having what amounts to a two hour bus commute to the maker-space rather than the 10 minute drive I do now.
The city in its infinite wisdom had “streamlined,” “improved” the bus service. The buses still run frequently, but I’d have to take at minimum two buses by going in the wrong direction — first up to the Capitol Square to transfer to the bus that will eventually drop me off near the shop or, walk in one direction to catch one bus that will go up 2 miles, where I’d need to catch another bus to meet up with a third bus to loop around eventually go within walking distance to the shop.
The maker-space is in negotiations with our new landlords about adding on to our space by renting the seasonally-used suite next to us. They’re willing to do that but want to increase our rent by almost 40% per square foot for the total square footage. We’re the only permanent tenants with two companies renting seasonal storage to either side of us. The new area we wish to move into is used for seasonal storage of rental bicycles.
In addition, we’re losing our parking lot out front. It was actually sold by the previous owners to a developer who will be putting housing there. The city is losing its character. All the new housing built recently, and still being built is boring. They all look like stacks of freight containers with balconies. There’s no play spaces for kids because the buildings are built over parking ramps with token green space. Very dystopian looking.
Unfortunately, tomorrow I will not be going to the protest. I anticipate that there will be agitators there to start violence — not the folks protesting but plants to start a riot of some sort. I have a thing inside my skull that could become an aneurism if I’m struck just right. Otherwise, I’d be right there up front.
Remember, if we wanted a king, we’d still be British. Many writers in the ‘40’s and ‘50’s warned us that this would happen, but we didn’t really believe that those fictional stories would become reality.
Stay safe out there. Take precautions to insure your safety and health by wearing a mask to prevent airborne viruses that may be present in large crowds. Don’t use poles or sticks that can be interpreted as weapons to hold your signs. Use an old phone or other device to document incidents instead of the phone you’d normally carry. There will be agents of chaos out there looking for excuses for violence.
The First Amendment of the United States Constitution protects the right to freedom of religion and freedom of expression from government interference.
It prohibits any laws that establish a national religion, impede the free exercise of religion, abridge the freedom of speech, infringe upon the freedom of the press, interfere with the right to peaceably assemble, or prohibit people from petitioning for a governmental redress of grievances. It was adopted into the Bill of Rights in 1791.
The Supreme Court interprets the extent of the protection afforded to these rights. The First Amendment has been interpreted by the Court as applying to the entire federal government even though it is only expressly applicable to Congress. Furthermore, the Court has interpreted the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment as protecting the rights in the First Amendment from interference by state governments.
Freedom of Religion Two clauses in the First Amendment guarantee freedom of religion. The Establishment Clause prohibits the government from passing legislation to establish an official religion or preferring one religion over another. It enforces the “separation of church and state.” The Free Exercise Clause prohibits the government, in most instances, from interfering with a person’s practice of their religion.
Freedom of Speech / Freedom of the Press The most basic component of freedom of expression is the right to freedom of speech. Freedom of speech may be exercised in a direct (words) or a symbolic (actions) way. Freedom of speech is recognized as a human right under article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
The right to freedom of speech allows individuals to express themselves without government interference or regulation. Generally, a person cannot be held liable, either criminally or civilly for anything written or spoken about a person or topic, so long as it is truthful or based on an honest opinion and such statements.
The right to free speech includes other mediums of expression that communicate a message. The level of protection speech receives also depends on the context in which it takes place.
The right to freedom of the press guaranteed by the First Amendment is not very different from the right to freedom of speech. It allows an individual to express themselves through publication and dissemination.
Right to Assemble / Right to Petition
The right to assemble allows people to gather for peaceful and lawful purposes. Implicit within this right is the right to association and belief. The Supreme Court has expressly recognized that a right to freedom of association and belief is implicit in the First, Fifth, and Fourteenth Amendments. Freedom of assembly is recognized as a human right under article 20 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
This implicit right is limited to the right to associate for First Amendment purposes. It does not include a right of social association. The government may prohibit people from knowingly associating with groups that engage in and promote violent or illegal activities.
The right to associate also prohibits the government from requiring a group to register or disclose its members or from denying government benefits on the basis of an individual’s current or past membership in a particular group.
There are exceptions to this rule where the Court finds that governmental interests in disclosure/registration outweigh interference with First Amendment rights. The government may also, generally, not compel individuals to express themselves, hold certain beliefs, or belong to particular associations or groups.
The right to petition the government for a redress of grievances guarantees people the right to ask the government to provide relief for a wrong through litigation or other governmental action. It works with the right of assembly by allowing people to join together and seek change from the government.
Thursday, October 9th, I taught basic sewing to a group of high schoolers. This time, instead of stuff sacks or pillow cases, they made can cozies. I was scheduled to teach four or five students, depending on what prior projects weren’t completed, but I made kits for six just in case I got six. I have six sewing machines to use for teaching that were purchased with grant money from the school district.
The can cozies were simple- two strips of fabric with batting sandwiched between them with a strip of velcro to hold the sides closed. I have one I made one that has craft foam instead of batting. That seems to work as well, so I’ll use that instead of batting.
Can cozy made by one of the students.
It was fun. My pattern turned out to be a bit short in length so the cozies didn’t turn quite as well-fitting as they should have. For the next class, I’m going to allow larger seam allowances which we can then adjust and trim.
I am dealing with a seriously depressed son. First, his sister’s ex-husband who was his friend, died. Then the guy’s mother whom my son met at his niece’s wedding, died of an aneurism on Sunday. Several days later, he received a text that his dad was dead.
Because of his grief for his friend, as well as another argument in a long history of fights with the Not-Wife, he kept calling into his job. Since he was a recent hire, they let him go. The friend’s mother’s death was a surprise to everyone.
The text instead of a phone call, from his snobby Aunt, to let him know his dad died was the final blow. He has been upset. His ex has been helping him deal with some of the loss. They are still close friends who will stop fighting and help each other out, and then resume arguing later.
Later….
I got a text from the Boomerang Child. He had a trip to the ER. He’s trying to stop drinking, but without his gut being numbed by alcohol, his throat and stomach rebelled. I wish him luck, but alcoholism flows through his genetic makeup.
I came close once, but made a conscious decision to control my drinking. Of course, if you look in the wardrobe in my bedroom, you’d find a nice selection of labels. But they’re hidden, but not from me but from my son. Alcohol interferes with my meds so I’d rather use it as flavoring and as a base for tinctures and extracts. I’ll probably toss most of it, including the wine stashed in the basement. I don’t think it’s aged well. I’m not certain I even want to open the bottles.
My son brought me a Mike’s Harder Lemonade as a birthday drink. I sipped about an ounce before my head went funny. It took me 20 minutes to drink that much. The rest got spilled on the floor when my dizzy self tried to stand up. It took at least 10 of my shop rags to blot it all up off the floor. He thought I drank it all because I poured a bottle of lemon water into a glass with ice. It looked the same.
Sillytoes Crafts 