Lost and Found –Tampa to Denver to Miami to Philadelphia

Lost and Found –Tampa to Denver to Miami to Philadelphia  by rl simpson 2/21/2015

They lost my bag on the way home from Florida. It was my good hard sided –robin’s egg blue, four wheel Coleman bag, I used in Alaska. I was upset. I did not check the baggage claim slip, when I walked away from the counter in Tampa. I had showed her my Identification and boarding pass –so when she affixed the claim stickie onto my baggage fee receipt –I thought all was well. NOT. She had renamed me Genevieve Simpson and sent my bag to Denver. I was flying to Philadelphia.

Having no idea my bag was still in the air going to Denver, I waited at the carousel in Philly talking to the Frontiers employee about nonsense things. I asked if she ever thought about which type of suitcase belonged to which various passenger wait around the carousel? She did and so we talked and waited until all but one case had been claimed. Not mine. She gave me a paper to fill out that was a claim, I guess. I only put my parents Pennsylvania address, since I was there for a few days. That is when I discovered the mistake, the baggage receipt was wrong. She had left me the clipboard with over 50 completed claims, while she went on break. She neglected to tell me that and I had no idea where she was. A man came up to me and said his golf clubs had not made it –so I gave him a blank claim form to fill out from the pile –while we waited for the Frontier Rep. When she came back she asked if I had given the man the paper claim he was filing out, I said yes, she nodded and said they would be in touch and turned to walk away. I yelled, “WAIT”.  I asked for a phone number and she gave it , then the golf club guy asked more questions and she asked him to wait while she made a call. We knew then that my bag had been sent to Denver, so I guess I was done. It was icey and cold outside. My sister and her husband had been in the cell phone lot, waiting to pick me up, for over an hour. I called and they picked me up and drove me to my Parents house in Aston. I had left my winter coat and keys with her and my coat was nice and warm. They dropped me off, the driveway was ice so I walked on the grass. As I opened the door I wondered, how long it would take to warm up the house and what was I going to eat. It snowed that night.

I called my Parents in Florida to tell them I arrived and the first thing my Dad said was “ What is your suitcase doing in Denver?’ Apparently, I had put on a luggage tag with my name and email address and cell phone number on one side and my parents name and Florida address and phone number on the other. Yep, they called my parents from Denver about 10:30 pm. The Frontier agent, gave my parents the Philadelphia number and asked me to call the next day. I called the number and got a recording saying the office in Philadelphia was open 2am until 10am Thurs thru Sunday. It was Tuesday. I left about 7 messages. Meanwhile, my Mother is getting calls from various baggage agents saying my bag was being flown to Miami then Phila. It was Wednesday night. Thursday morning, I received a call from Philadelphia as I was walking out the door to go home. The bag had arrived on the 11pm Wednesday flight. Did I want it delivered to Aston or sent by Fed Ex to my South Jersey home? I said “ship it” and gave the address–“I am on my way home”. She asked if I wanted “Genevieve or Robin on the address label?” “I don’t freakin’ care”, and hung up. I got home Thursday.

 Early Friday morning, about 8:30 am, I heard a knock on my door. Got out of bed and looked out my bedroom window, to see what I thought was a van driving away. Now remember my suitcase tag –did not have my address on it, only the phone contact with the agent on Thursday morning had the address. That early Friday morning knock, was my suitcase left on my front step. Fed Ex had pasted a large “OVERNIGHT” sticker on it –I still cannot get it off. Everything inside was fine. My bag had officially been in more cities than I had.

I got an email from Frontier on another cheap flight –I will NEVER fly that airline again –even if the tickets are free.

I am squandering my INHERITANCE

I left my Mother's pre-1986 / 3 qt pan on the stove as the water boiled out without me knowing -some of the the copper bottom actually came off and the inside is dark -after I cleaned it, I used it again to boil macaroni and it just did not taste that good -I will try to clean it again -inside and out -but I think I will be buying her a new pan. I still have not told her -I think it was the first pan they bought when they set up housekeeping back in 1951. Ouch  / 

I am squandering my inheritance.

This is a collaborative story with a friend while we were talking on the phone one night -the ending is purely his.I read it in my writing class, they seemed to like it :).

"A Short Story by Simpson Kirk Aug 2014

It was raining harder than I have ever seen it rain in Vegas. The streets were starting to flood and the storm drains were over flowing. We had a fight. Neither of us are screamers but it was loud. I cannot even remember what started it or what was the final straw. I stormed out of the house, swearing and telling myself I needed to get away. I had to think about where this relationship was going. I started driving with no destination in mind; I just wanted to be away, to be alone.

I decided to drive to Mt Charleston and our cabin. We had bought the cabin, a couple of years back. Not in great shape, it was a divorce settlement fast sale of assets., but a great investment for us. It was still expensive so we had to rent it for a couple of years. Then did some improvements after a disaster renter, and rented it for another year. That did not go well; another not so happy renter, and we made the decision to start using it as it was intended.- our vacation retreat. We really enjoyed going up for weekends and even brought some work up with us. We had satellite Internet connection and television. Cell phone reception was hit or miss. We are working on that. A couple rentals in high season to select clients were all we really needed to pay the taxes and maintenance. It was perfect.

 Tonight it was a safe refuge I needed in a storm of emotions. Once I had made the decision on my destination I just wanted to fly there, to drive as fast as I could and be in the cabin, surrounded by its peace. However, that was not possible I had to drive slow and take my time and not hydroplane into one of the drainage ditches. Puddles were now lakes of water that I had to breech. Mt Charleston usually took an hour and 30 minutes to drive from Vegas; I was now close to three hours on the road. The traffic and weather reports were urging everyone to stay home and off the roads. Reporting mudslides on Mt Charleston, the Highway Police were closing roads.

 As I turned onto our road to the cabin I noticed the little creek had now become a torrent and water was up to the bottom of the bridge. I rolled down all my windows and unfastened my seat belt. If this car goes off the bridge, I thought, I am getting out. I decided to go as fast as possible over the bridge; I would worry about getting back after it stopped raining. With only my headlights to show the way I pushed the gas and flew over the bridge. Safe, I rolled up the windows. Now the 2 miles up our road to the cabin, I did not look back, I kept the car steady, blessing the decision to buy a four wheel Honda CRV. I fishtailed up the final climb.

The cabin was dark. Electricity was out but the propane kitchen stove was ok. I lit a burner to defeat the darkness and got out the hurricane lamps and candles. I lit them all to dispel the gloom caused by the storm outside and inside of me. Always leaving wood in fireplace, ready to light, I started a small fire and slowly it started to take the dampness away. Then I started the wood stove that would heat the bedrooms and main house. That was one of the improvements we made after that crazy renter burned our furniture in the fireplace for heat. We had stocked the woodpile last time we were here and it was nice and dry on the porch. I went out and brought in enough wood for the night. Next I went to get some water from the bottles we kept at the cabin. The electricity was off so the well pump did not work –but I needed something hot to drink. I got the instant hot chocolate out of the freezer; it would work in an emergency and this was. Put the water in a pan on the stove to heat and looked around.

 Maybe I should go back. No the Mountain roads are dangerous in this weather and it is really late. I am fine and safe in our little cabin. I just have to relax. But I miss her and maybe I was wrong. I know the fight was over the top.

 The water boiled and I made some hot chocolate only filling the cup half way the other half with room temp water so I could drink it right away. I am feeling calmer, but lonely. I should have never stormed out with out my computer and my cell has no signal. Darn.

I must have dozed off because the fire in the fireplace was almost out but the stove was going strong and the cabin was toasty. Then I heard it, a knock at the door. ‘What the heck,  it is 3am. Are you kidding me?’ I went to the door, trying to see outside but it was so dark. I opened the door. A woman in a slicker was standing there soaked, all muddy and covered in bloody mountain brush. Her hands and chest were a mess all scraped and bleeding. The rain had mixed with her blood covering the porch.

‘The car went off the road where the bridge was supposed to be. The roads are a mess but I had to come. I am so sorry about everything. I crawled the last two miles.”

.

I looked at my wife. A piece of windshield glass was sticking out of her chest that is where all the blood was from. I knew she had no idea she was hurt so badly in the car accident. The glass may have pierced her heart.

“Oh honey, I am so sorry.” I cried, reaching out and catching her, as she collapsed..

Holding her in my arms, I kissed her one last time, as she died.

The end."

Pennywise , Pride foolish

or

Sometimes saving money on a fixed Income is just not worth it.

A 62 and 364 day old woman attempts to save money by dyeing her own hairs. Ok so it is I, I am talking about.  Saw a ‘real good deal’ in Face Book called e-salon where for an introductory low cost they would custom match your current hair to the new color you picked. The catch was you would automatically be signed up to receive the same color every 30 days. I did not think about that part or that it would cost twice the amount of the first order. I uploaded my picture and put it on my credit card.

 They did not like the type of dye I ordered and called me. ‘You need to order a permanent not a temporary dye color’, said the girl. I had thought if I did not like the color it would wash out. No, they changed that.  Now I thought ‘well maybe this is ok they seem to care about the product.’

Within a week I got a large oblong box. It included the dye, the mix solution, two pairs of plastic gloves, shampoo, conditioner, stain guard to apply to your skin around your face so the color can not get to your skin, a brush, a cape, a timer, a stain remover for your face, and instructions. Whew. I was over whelmed and put it aside for 30 days. I got another box, my credit card was automatically charged. I quickly canceled all future orders.

Two days before my birthday I decided to try it out. I had made an emergency appointment with my regular hairdresser for a cut and color –just in case. I had let my hair go natural which meant all gray and dark. I had just attended a High School reunion and saw myself captured in time in the pictures. At first, I could not find me then I shuddered, time to dye my hair. I hated the natural look.

First I read the instructions again. Gathered the old towel, and paper towels., changed into a strapless sun dress that I did not have to pull over my head. All set, I thought. Note to others –go to the bathroom before you put on the plastic gloves.  I put on the cape over the paper towels around my neck.

I applied the stain guard around my face and neck. I am now ready to take the dye and the solution bottle and mix them together. Both unscrew. But the solution bottle also has a cap? I cannot get it off. I have to get out my pliers and pull it off. Now I am still in my gloves and ready to mix them together. I mix them together, re-screw both bottles and cannot get the cap off again. I still have my gloves on and the fingers are sticky from the Stain Guard. The Pliers and extra paper towels, work.

I shake the color to mix together. It takes a long, long , long shake. I think ‘ this is to light a color, oh well, I will just use it.’ Next, I have to apply the color to my hair, but not rubbing it into my scalp. I remember my old hairdresser using a comb to comb thru my hair with the color on it. No throw away comb in the box or mentioned in the instructions,. I only have my regular comb, so I use it. That was a Big Messy Mistake. Note to others, use a throw away comb. I now have dye all over my good comb. I try to wipe it off with the paper towels, but it is a special layered comb, and I have to wash it. I ended up scrubbing it with a nailbrush, in my plastic gloves in the water.

 I work the color into my hair and set the timer for 30 minutes. But it is a stopwatch timer and so I also set my kitchen timer. Before I do this I put a shower cap over on my hair because I a touching my hair and getting it over everything. Did I mention I wear glasses? Paper towels and water again. One last thing before I take off the darn gloves put the cap back on the bottle and run my colored filled gloves over my eyebrows. 

I work on my computer and the phone rings. I have to answer on speaker, since I have now put the phone on my ears and gotten color over it. I talk a long time, hands free. The timer goes off in the kitchen. I re-read the instructions. ‘Get into the shower it is about to get messy.’ Are you kidding me? I put on the second set of gloves. It has been 59 minutes.

Turn on my shower, take off the gloves to test the temperature, put them back on, undress, get the shampoo and conditioner they sent, fill up the color bottle with water to mix with the color, shake again, notice the color NOW looks like I thought it should all along, get into the shower, start to rinse it off my hair while applying the water and color, (this seems weird). Wash off the color from my eyebrows,, now my eyes are burning, trying not to get anything on my skin, put down the color bottle, eyes closed can not see if it rinses clear but take off gloves, use the shampoo and my hair feels like straw, use the conditioner, feels better. Scrub me and finish in the shower.

I cannot see yet because I forgot to put on the fan and the mirror is fogged, but no color comes off on my towel.

Color seems ok, I guess, but not worth the mess.

My eyes still burn. Going back to the hairdresser.

When did my hair get so thin?

Writing Prompt /Slowing time

Writing Group Prompt:

Write something with the idea of slowing down or stopping time

  rl simpson                              7/18/2014

I point my phone’s camera and press the button and if I remember to hold the button a few seconds, I stop time. It is not the type of magic I want to possess. I want to have the magic to go back in time and then stop time. I want to tell my younger self all kinds of advice and wisdom and force her to learn the lessons she needs.

But the only kind of magic I possess, is something someone else invented to stop time. A picture, a snap shot, an image of that moment in time.

 My eldest niece was married on July 4^th. When she found her guy and they set the date, I asked her, "How can you get married –you are only six?" I looked back to all the moments in time that I had stopped for her and I am amazed that she kept moving forward in time to this point, getting married at 6 plus 22.

In my images, I have stopped time for lots of people. I only now realize how much I enjoy that magic. Some of the images are still on pictures, but most are taking up space on my computer in something called jay pee gee (.jpg).

Occasionally, these images pop up and delight me all over again bringing memories to the present day and I unstop time.

Heather (5) and Rachel (3)

Heather and Matt

Book Club

I am in two book clubs (three but I can not afford to buy the books for the original book club so I do not attend -unless I was able to get a Library book) Two Creative Writing groups -in which I am so blocked I can only write with a prompt or bring in this BLOG to read. Nothing is new with me. So when the Romance Book club book choice for June -left me with such a violent reaction -I perked up -ah ha -thought I -material for a rant and new Blog.

The book of the month was voted on by the nine women who signed up and the Facilitator. Nine women voted -three showed. 

The book was not Romance is was poorly written PORN.

 Reading this NY Times Best Seller listed book made me loose all credibility in this list.

 per Wikipedia:"The list is composed by the editors of the "News Surveys" department, not by The New York Times Book Review department, where it's published.^[6] It is based on weekly sales reports obtained from selected samples of independent and chain bookstores and wholesalers throughout the United States.^[6] The sales figures are widely believed to represent books that have actually been sold at retail, rather than wholesale,^[7] as the Times surveys booksellers in an attempt to better reflect what is purchased by individual buyers. ^{" '}A Stanford Business School analysis suggests that the "majority of book buyers seem to use the Times' list as a signal of what's worth reading".^[27] The study concluded that lesser-known writers get the biggest benefit from being on the list, while perennial best-selling authors such as Danielle Steel or John Grisham see no benefit of additional sales.<sup>[27]'

This book was the first 'adult' book from a young reader Author. All she had to do was dumb down the story and throw alot alot alot of sex scenes in and magic -it was a Best Seller? In our discussion, I objected so strongly I was asked what kind of Romance book did I like? My mind went blank. Then I said Regency Romance, ok so I love reading them on my Kindle.

 But I do read some para normal books with lots of sex - so why am I bothered by this? Was it the public discussion? Next months book is even worse in graphic detail but the author is better. I do not know if I will waste my time reading it. But then what else do I have to do , CLEAN? Write a NY Times Best Seller? I know the story would be better but the sex scenes? well maybe my little sister could write those. :)

 On Dublin Street by Samantha Young -maybe a Beach read / Did not like it.</sup>

A Day in the life.

          I am rewashing the same load of colors a third time –YES someone threw a tissue in with my clothes. I live alone and wash only my own clothes. I should be grateful it was not the load of dark clothes. Someone does that quite often.

          Yesterday, I had my deck power washed, my house power washed and my portable room air conditioners put in. I also had my redwood picnic table power washed. It was an old one my brother in law was getting rid of and I said I wanted it. I did a nice job sanding and repainting it a couple of years ago –then I put a varnish on it. Wrong. So when it start to peel –and peel badly –I decided it needed to be redone –power washing saved me a step. A male friend and my brother both asked me if I was going to have my new handyman paint the picnic? What kind of a question is that? I can still do some things; just not lift heavy air conditioners.

          Now, I am making a list of all my handyman jobs I need done. This man is 55 and seems very nice. He built the neighbors decks and works for them a lot. It seems the neighbor wife is very handy, the husband is not. I want all kinds of things done but I can afford only the necessary things. He also hung my new address sign. I made the tiled address sign in Mosaic class at the County Library.

           So far on my list is a new screen door and new hinges. Oh I would love to have windows boxes and a shed. Maybe by the Fall I can think of more things, that are necessary.