In the last several weeks, my mobile had started doing odd things, nothing rendering it unusable, but making it rather annoying and sometimes cumbersome to get a text sent or a call made. Then a few days ago, with the battery almost completely drained, I discovered that someone in the household had stepped on the business end of the charger, rendering it useless and leaving me phoneless for a couple of days. I don't really use my phone that much for anything terribly important except for a few daily work calls, but still I felt disconnected. I immediately ordered a replacement charger online, but that was going to take a few days to arrive, of course. And while I was at it, I made the plunge and ordered a new Android phone. Buttons and keyboards are so early 2011.
Whenever I order something I'm eager to get online I am an online tracking idiot. I mean, I check the status every 30 minutes if I happen to be at home by the computer. It drives me crazy, but I can't stop. All the info I had received said I would get the phone delivered via USPS Priority Mail on Saturday. It didn't arrive with the regular mail delivery (though the charger for the old phone did), so I was obsessively checking the mailbox and online for updates. At one point in the afternoon I ran upstairs for approximately 8 minutes. When I got back downstairs I had an email update that a delivery attempt had been made and that a notification was left for me. Of course I rushed outside to find NOTHING. No package, no notice. And the time listed on the "delivery attempt" email was when I was still sitting on the couch.
I was outraged, of course, and called the USPS 800 number to complain, ranting and raving but reserving the curse words because, well, that lady on the phone didn't have anything to do with the lazy son of a bitch mail carrier who didn't really come to my house but said they did. I apologize to the Boy, however, for the rather brusque and salty phone call he got from me. Then, in a frenzy, I decided to get in my car and drive around the neighborhood looking for mail trucks to flag down. Just a couple blocks from home I spotted my first one, parked and marched over to the carrier. On my way I noticed that is was our regular carrier, Johnnie and I thought for sure he wasn't responsible as he would have known I was home (the goddamned front door was WIDE OPEN, for one thing...) and he would have left the package (it didn't require a signature, I should add). When I asked him, just in case, he mentioned the small package he had left for me that morning but that he hadn't been by again. OK, let's review that last sentence. Johnnie knew exactly who I was, where I lived, and what he had left in my mailbox that day. Already, that seemed pretty extraordinary to me. At this point I felt my anger diffusing a little bit, but still, I wanted my package!
Unprompted by me, Johnnie said he was on his way back to the station (the PO on Manchester at Vandeventer) and that I could follow him and he would go in and look for my package while I waited. What? Huh? What? Seriously, I think my head started spinning at this offer. Holy shades of Mayberry, Batman! I stammered and thanked him profusely and ran to get into my car, of course, and gave chase. By the time we were halfway there, I was feeling a little ashamed by my escalated upset, but ecstatic I was going to get my new phone! Johnnie pulled into the station via the back way and I awkwardly parked across the alley, feeling rather sheepish. He popped inside and came out less than a minute later with my package (which is when I again cursed the lazy a-hole who didn't attempt to deliver it and just took it back to the station). I love my mailman!
Now, do I love my Android phone? Not so much, yet. My smart phone makes me feel a little stupid. Hopefully I will catch on soon enough.
Since it was nice and cool yesterday, and I had found a nice piece pork butt on sale the other day, I fired up the oven for a roast. I found a recipe that suggested coating the roast with Worcestershire sauce and brown sugar and then baking for four to five hours at a low temperature. The weather was cooperating, so I did it and it turned out quite nice. Part of the recipe was also pouring in some apple cider which I didn't have. Considering the sweetness of the sugar already in there, I poured in a bit of apple cider vinegar instead. To go along with it I made some buttered egg noodles as we'd had enough potatoes in the previous days. And to use up some bits and bobs I sauteed a chopped up tomato and several white mushrooms in a skillet until soft then added some thawed whole green beans and cooked until everything was done through. I thickened the roast's pan juices for a quick gravy and spooned that over the meat and noodles.
I think I shall add barbecue sauce to the leftover pork for sandwiches tonight. Then I need coleslaw, right?
Whenever I order something I'm eager to get online I am an online tracking idiot. I mean, I check the status every 30 minutes if I happen to be at home by the computer. It drives me crazy, but I can't stop. All the info I had received said I would get the phone delivered via USPS Priority Mail on Saturday. It didn't arrive with the regular mail delivery (though the charger for the old phone did), so I was obsessively checking the mailbox and online for updates. At one point in the afternoon I ran upstairs for approximately 8 minutes. When I got back downstairs I had an email update that a delivery attempt had been made and that a notification was left for me. Of course I rushed outside to find NOTHING. No package, no notice. And the time listed on the "delivery attempt" email was when I was still sitting on the couch.
I was outraged, of course, and called the USPS 800 number to complain, ranting and raving but reserving the curse words because, well, that lady on the phone didn't have anything to do with the lazy son of a bitch mail carrier who didn't really come to my house but said they did. I apologize to the Boy, however, for the rather brusque and salty phone call he got from me. Then, in a frenzy, I decided to get in my car and drive around the neighborhood looking for mail trucks to flag down. Just a couple blocks from home I spotted my first one, parked and marched over to the carrier. On my way I noticed that is was our regular carrier, Johnnie and I thought for sure he wasn't responsible as he would have known I was home (the goddamned front door was WIDE OPEN, for one thing...) and he would have left the package (it didn't require a signature, I should add). When I asked him, just in case, he mentioned the small package he had left for me that morning but that he hadn't been by again. OK, let's review that last sentence. Johnnie knew exactly who I was, where I lived, and what he had left in my mailbox that day. Already, that seemed pretty extraordinary to me. At this point I felt my anger diffusing a little bit, but still, I wanted my package!
Unprompted by me, Johnnie said he was on his way back to the station (the PO on Manchester at Vandeventer) and that I could follow him and he would go in and look for my package while I waited. What? Huh? What? Seriously, I think my head started spinning at this offer. Holy shades of Mayberry, Batman! I stammered and thanked him profusely and ran to get into my car, of course, and gave chase. By the time we were halfway there, I was feeling a little ashamed by my escalated upset, but ecstatic I was going to get my new phone! Johnnie pulled into the station via the back way and I awkwardly parked across the alley, feeling rather sheepish. He popped inside and came out less than a minute later with my package (which is when I again cursed the lazy a-hole who didn't attempt to deliver it and just took it back to the station). I love my mailman!
Now, do I love my Android phone? Not so much, yet. My smart phone makes me feel a little stupid. Hopefully I will catch on soon enough.
Since it was nice and cool yesterday, and I had found a nice piece pork butt on sale the other day, I fired up the oven for a roast. I found a recipe that suggested coating the roast with Worcestershire sauce and brown sugar and then baking for four to five hours at a low temperature. The weather was cooperating, so I did it and it turned out quite nice. Part of the recipe was also pouring in some apple cider which I didn't have. Considering the sweetness of the sugar already in there, I poured in a bit of apple cider vinegar instead. To go along with it I made some buttered egg noodles as we'd had enough potatoes in the previous days. And to use up some bits and bobs I sauteed a chopped up tomato and several white mushrooms in a skillet until soft then added some thawed whole green beans and cooked until everything was done through. I thickened the roast's pan juices for a quick gravy and spooned that over the meat and noodles.
I think I shall add barbecue sauce to the leftover pork for sandwiches tonight. Then I need coleslaw, right?
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