Greetings from Manchester, Maryland!
It's a beautiful day right now, in the low-80s Fahrenheit and quiet ... except for birds chirping, the wind blowing through the trees, and my windchimes tinkling behind me. Which are all sounds that I like to hear (versus traffic and sirens and other various human-caused hullabaloo). I am sitting outside in our grove of trees and happy as the proverbial pig in the proverbial slop.
No, I don't have Internet yet. Apparently, I have a neighbor with an unsecured wireless network. \o/ Okay, yes, I am a bad 'gund, but we all knew that, right? I have been one week without getting on the computer at all. Okay, well, yesterday I went to Panera Bread to use their wireless to upload some stuff for SWG, but that's been it.
Verizon has turned out to be just as comcastic as Comcast or possibly more so. Which I never thought I'd say. At least, this is my first impression judging by the fact that
- They require a credit check in order to sign on for their service. A credit check?? And because we were, like, in the process of getting a mortgage and, like, and were advised not to do anything with our credit including having all and sundry run credit checks on us (and Verizon and Ye Flist will be pleased to know that the House of Felagund has excellent credit on account of that whole tendency of Felagundish people to horde riches), then we couldn't start the process of getting the phone/Internet/satellite TV hooked up until after settlement. WTF?!?!
- So first thing Saturday morning, Bobby calls to schedule the installation for the aforementioned services. Only they are closed on weekends. Who the hell is closed on weekends these days? Why can't I be closed on weekends?
- So he calls first thing Monday. They've already effed up our telephone service; the phone guy was out yesterday but couldn't finish the job because the main office screwed up something.
- Aaaaaand, here's the kicker: They will not be out to install the Internet until July 18. Yes, July $%#&ing 18th!!! I think the satellite TV won't be until the 19th, but I don't give a crap about TV. Anyway, when I heard this, I started to go into delirium tremens from lack of Internet. They were going to get an earful from one angry 'gund until I discovered the neighbor with wireless. Just as long as I can get enough of a signal to upload pages to the SWG homepage and check the LiveJournal (all the rest can be handled at work, where such things are supposed to be done, of course), then I'm happy. I just really don't want/need the stress right now of trying to run an online group without being able to get online except by the good graces of the folks at the local Panera Bread.
It's was very dirty (very, very) and in need of some serious TLC, but in the past week, we have made huge strides, and we love it. I am not kidding when I say that this area is beautiful to the point that I drive around and cannot believe that I live here. It's all farmland, gently rolling hills, and at the end of our street is a view straight west to the foot of the Appalachian Mountains.
Alex loves his backyard. It's hard to get him to come in. Our families came over for the first five days to help with cleaning, painting, and other fun things (like picking minute flecks of paint off the hardwood floors ... but more on that later), and he was out in the yard pretty much from the moment we'd get up around eight until everyone went home around eleven. The only time he was inside was when we went out to get food and, trust me, only then reluctantly.
Tonight, Bobby and I are going to the Manchester Volunteer Fire Department's carnival. We'd intended to go yesterday, but it rained all day, so we ended up running around to all corners of Maryland (okay, really only Westminster and White Marsh) to buy furniture for my study and other random items that apparently one needs when buying a new house.
Now, I am nearly out of juice on my laptop battery; Pengolodh Lord of Gondolin is still feeling drained from yesterday's excursion to Panera. So I shall sign off for now but will be back later for myriad tales along the lines of The Jimmy Buffett Debacle, The Ballad of the Hardwood Floors, and Thou Shalt Not Buy The 'gund Lotion. Evah. Again.