My Love/Hate Relationship With my Printer

Technology and I are not the best of friends.

For example, I blew up a computer one time.  Not with explosives--merely with my presence.  Perhaps it preferred self-destruction over even one more day of me blaming it for losing my documents or for not doing what I told it to do.  But, in the spirit of total honesty, I must tell you that I talk to my computer and believe that what I tell it to do (using my voice) should take precedence over what I tell it to do with my fingers pushing the wrong keys.  Who decided those were the wrong keys, anyway?  And why can't my computer just understand what I want it to do without me having to tell it in the right ways?  (Did anyone need any proof that computers are male?)

And then there's the printer.  The last time I had to buy a printer was several years ago, about this time of year.  I was ready to print our tax return when Original Printer said, "Um, no.  I'm not going to do that.  I am tired.  You don't let me print pretty things, just boring documents.  And I think that USB cord makes me look fat."  (Did anyone need any proof that printers are female?)

So I replaced it, and Replacement Printer served me well.  I could print from my camera.  I could print from my SD card.  I could even, and this is really amazing, print from my computer.  I could make copies.  I could scan stuff.  And, by golly, it was kind of pretty.

The Replacement Printer/owner relationship wasn't without its own set of issues.  For instance, for whatever reason,  it would occasionally re-install its own software and rename itself.  When I would get ready to print something, I had to scroll through the list of printers to see which name we were now using (we got up to "Copy 6").  And then it decided it would no longer print economically--only best quality for Replacement Printer.  Not that most people would think that disastrous.  It's just that 99% of what I need to print is stuff that will be recycled as soon as that project is over.  Oh, and do you have to feed pages into your printer one sheet at a time so that it will work?  Well, toward the end, I did.  Yes, that's how committed I was to the relationship.

And then tax season came again.  Because I am self-employed and my office is in our home, our tax return is about 73 pages long.  Seriously?  I thought about standing there, feeding one sheet at at time through Replacement Printer, and I decided it was time for a New One. 

I can promise you that Replacement heard me talking about New One.  Suddenly, Replacement would print more than one page at a time AND on the economy setting.  I began to doubt the whole New One plan.  I thought about how I was going to return New One to its cozy shelf at the manufacturer.  I even thought about buying a new ink cartridge for Replacement Printer--perhaps even the tri-color kind.

And then, with no warning whatsoever, Replacement Printer resumed its nasty way of printing what it wanted to print, the way it wanted to print.  No more economy setting.  No more printing multiple pages.  In fact, it quite suddenly decided to offer me four mangled sheets of paper for every one it printed correctly. 

Well, New One is now installed (not without a bit of difficulty, mind you).  Apparently, they are very serious about doing the installation IN THE CORRECT ORDER. Whatever.

When Dale came home that night, I asked him to take the old Replacement Printer down to the basement, but to keep it in its upright position just in case I have to use it again.  Yes, my new printer is brand new, but you just never know.  Technology and I don't always get along.

Bring it On, Spring

I'm not certain, but I think I've never anticipated Spring more than I did this year.  I really try to not complain too much about the weather for 2 reasons:
1.  I cannot do anything about it. (There.  I've admitted it.  I do not control everything. But don't tell my kids.)
2.  The weather is always worse somewhere else. 

This year, however, I broke my own no whining policy.  This year, winter lasted for about a decade.

It's not that I don't appreciate winter.  I love snow.  I love getting snowed in.  I even enjoy driving in snow.  And, to me, there are few things more beautiful than a blanket of snow covering everything.  It's like a fresh start for life, and it inspires me in so many ways.

And I would much rather it be cold outside than hot.  I can dress in layers for the cold.  There's only so much one can take off in the heat and still have friends.  Plus, as a woman in menopause, I find that I don't need so many warm clothing layers as I have my own furnace thing going on with the hot flashes.

But this year, snow was about all I could see for a long time.  And we were snowed in a lot.  And not very many people here really know how to drive in the snow.  And I came down with a really bad case of it's-been-too-long-since-we've-seen-the-sun.

By the time Spring Break rolled around, I was ready to get out of the house.  A trip to the beach would have been nice.  A trip to the Southwest would have been great.  You could have sold me a trip to just about anywhere that held a good possibility of sunshine.  Where did I go?  To a place that always equals peace for me:  the home where my husband was raised.

My in-laws live farther south than we do, and their Spring is almost always about 10 days to 2 weeks ahead of ours.  It can still be winter at my house, but things will be starting to bloom in their neck of the woods. From the Bradford pear trees standing as sentinels along the driveway, irises poking through at their roots, to the tulip tree near the garage, to the wisteria on the fence, to the dogwood in the yard--they beckon me into their world.  It's like they are reminding me that winter cannot last forever and that Spring is imminent.  It's like they are reminding me of that thing I hold so dear: HOPE.

Now, do I rely on the weather for my hope? Of course not. And do I think Spring is the only season where hope blooms or that hope is dependent on the weather?  A resounding NO.  But after the long winter we just had, after a rough year in this economy, after a few life-altering decisions were made, change is welcome.  This time, it just happens to be in the form of Spring.

So, bring it on, Spring.  Woo me with your sunny days and mild temper-atures.  Beckon me with the smells of fresh mown grass and cleansing Spring rains.  Lull me to sleep at night with your cool temperatures and the breeze blowing through my not-yet-leafed-out trees.  Welcome me each day with the woodpecker in my neighbor's tree and the squirrels who are once again taking up residence in my backyard just to spite my dogs.  I enjoy you each year, but you're special to me this time.  You've reminded me of hope.

Happy Birthday, Spencer!

My firstborn child is 20 today.  Yikes!

When this kid was less than one week old, he could lift his head off my shoulder and look around. In the literary world, this is called foreshadowing. In the parenting world, this should have been a clue to his parents that he would be one strong-willed child. He ALWAYS wanted to do things his way, which has made for some very interesting parenting moments. Potty training on our schedule? Um, no. Save money for a rainy day? Not a chance. Make it home by curfew? Rarely.

By the time he was 2, the depth of his questions had surpassed my ability to answer them.  The TV remote was his favorite toy--he completely took it apart and put it back together.  And from the moment we turned his carseat around to face forward, this kid wanted to drive.  To this day, he can put more miles on a vehicle in a shorter amount of time than any person I have ever known (including truck drivers)!  Parenting this boy has always been an adventure.

Spencer is hilariously funny, deeply opinionated, extremely bright, and has the ability to make any dog fall in love with him.  He has a definite firstborn sense of right and wrong.  He is a great older brother.  He is a teddy bear on the inside (but that's a secret, so please don't tell anyone).  He has been written off by several people during his young life, and that's pretty sad.  This kid is worth getting to know.

Except for my tailbone (which he broke during birth) and some furniture and keepsakes he has accidentally broken or set on fire, he's pretty much been a delight to have around.  We were not surprised when he informed us he had joined the Army Reserves, and we have watched with pride (and some tears) as he graduated from Basic Combat Training, then his Advanced Individual Training, and most recently as we sent him off on a military mssion to Haiti (which was called back by our government).  Spencer has always believed we enjoy freedom in this country because of the sacrifices of others, and he has always felt he wanted to do his part.  Believe me, this is the guy you want defending your freedom, even if you don't appreciate it.

We will again stand with pride and tears as he gets ready to depart for Afghanistan sometime within the next year.  We will go through his room and find dishes that didn't make it down to the kitchen, chocolate kiss wrappers from when he stole the whole candy jar (nearly every time it has candy in it), and some socks that no amount of bleach will ever bring back to white.  We will anxiously await his letters, phone calls, or text messages.  I will bake and send to him The World's Best Chocolate Chip Cookies.  I will pray for him daily, as I do now, and as my friends will also do--they love him, too.

Spencer, my son, being your mom is one of my favorite things in life.  Thanks for gracing us with your presence and making us proud.  Spencer Duncan is Mommy's little pumpkin.  And I love you so.