UPGRADING

It looks like I’m just about finished with upgrades.

Last year about this time I bought the new refrigerator...French doors, with freezer on the bottom. I’m not a big fan of freezer on the bottom, but it’s OK.

In April, it was the quartz countertops in the kitchen and downstairs bathroom. That was complete with new sinks and faucets.

A couple weeks ago, the new under-the-cabinet/over-the-stove microwave went in. I can reach the microwave fine. What I can’t reach is what’s in the cabinet! I had to buy a small folding step ladder.

And Monday of this week, I bought a new Epson printer. This one purchase was the most involved. (The countertops come in a close second!) On Tuesday I wasn’t feeling up to the task of setting up the printer. Oh, I wasn’t going to do it myself! No NO no no no! I had a phone number for that. Another plus, I can buy each ink cartridges separately! 

On Wednesday (yesterday) I called the number for Staples Tech (I bought the printer at Staples). I got a nice young man on the phone, Ryan. All I had to do was sit back and watch him take over my computer and saw magical things happening on the screen. Easy.

After spending the morning with Ryan, I went out and bought a new toaster oven. I needed something smaller and more streamlined than what I had.

Later (it's still Wednesday), when I went to scan something, it was obvious we had forgotten to set up the scanner! So, I called again and got Terra on the phone. I no sooner told her what the problem was then the line disconnected and she never called me back. Hmmmm! It was getting late, so I tried to shut down my computer. It refused to do that because the printer’s something-or-other was using something and would not let me do that. OK. Tomorrow (which is now today) is another day!

Here we are, Thursday morning. I call the magic number and get Mona on the phone. Well to make a long story short, she had to delete everything Ryan did the day before and reinstall everything from scratch...including the scanner. The scanner part was not fun. It seems this printer, the XP-7100, does not support my computer when it comes to operating the scanner from the printer. BUT she was able to install the scanner so I can operate it right from my computer...which is how I did it on my 15-year-old Epson.

So, now I’m happy. Two days and three technicians later my new printer/scanner is operating. AND, under certain conditions, I can also print from my iPad. This is all wireless, of course.

Now, let me tell you what makes me happiest of all! When I bought the printer, I also bought a 4-year Protection and Tech Help Service Contract for $29.99. If I had a tech from Staples come out to my house once to do the install, it would have cost me $150.00!!! I have already gotten my money’s worth wouldn’t you say?

Oh, and I’m not finished with upgrades yet. After the first of the year, the kitchen and bathroom will get a new coat of paint. Don’t know what color(s) yet, but that’s not for another couple of months.

As of this moment, life is good. If I have any more printer problems, I have that magic phone number!

I had forgotten that I published this once before on Friday, December 9, 2016. BUT...it's such a good story it's worth publishing again.

Sandy McTavish...Oh, my! Can I make up a story.

While looking for something I had written awhile back, I came upon this story. I wrote it in March of 2007. Whatever possessed me to create such a tale? I don't know, but I think it is pretty darn good! How the story came about, is true. Sandy McTavish on the other hand......

Sandy McTavish

It was the summer of 1973. The family was at our camp in upstate New York, on Lake Bonaparte. That year we met a bagpipe player who was on his way to Ontario for the Highland Games and bagpipe competition. This laddie (don’t remember his name) knew someone, who knew someone who suggested he look up someone on the lake and would possibly have a place to stay over. I seem to recall he stayed with the Stuyvesant family.

As evening flowed into pitch black night, someone suggested it would be great fun to canoe across the lake to Charlie and Nadine’s place accompanied by the bagpipes. And so, a flotilla of canoes set out. We were without running lights, but the theory was, with the bagpipes skirling out such mournful tunes, we didn’t need them.

The skirling of the pipes could be heard echoing and bouncing off several high rock walls bordering the lake. When we got to Charlie and Nadine’s everyone got out of the canoes and formed a line behind the piper. We proceeded to march through their house to the tune of The Campbells are Coming—in the back door and out the front—around the house and back to the canoes without so much as a “Hi, Charlie. Hi, Nadine.” Before we could get back to our camp the phone was ringing off the hook.

“What the hell was that all about?” you could hear Charlie yelling. We calmed him down and let him in on the joke. He and Nadine are good sports and, in the end, had a good laugh over the unusual event.

The next day, I went to the little general store in town, the one by the railroad tracks, and overheard a conversation up at the cash register about hearing bagpipes on the lake last night. “That was the eeriest thing I’ve ever heard,” said one matron. “We were out on our boat and there was not one thing moving on the lake that we could see,” said the other. 

We had owned our camp at Lake Bonaparte for 2-3 years by then and everyone in town knew how interested I was in local history. They all knew I had borrowed just about every book I could lay my hands on and knew the area pretty well.

When I came to cash out, they all looked at me and asked if I had heard the bagpipes on the lake last night. Keeping a straight face, I admitted that, indeed I had. “What do you think it was?

There is this devil in me that just would not be still. Keeping a straight face, “Have you not heard the story of Sandy McTavish?” I asked.

“No.” was the response. “What is it? Tell us.”

“Well,” I said a little hesitantly (only because I had to start making up the story), “it goes like this.”

“When Joseph Bonaparte escaped France at the end of his brother, Napoleon’s reign as Emperor, he took as much of the Crown Jewels and servants as he could. One of the servant girls, Elyne Balfour, was engaged to a bagpiper in the Royal Guard named Sandy McTavish. Joseph escaped under the cloak of darkness and was well away from Paris before anyone knew he was gone. When Sandy McTavish found out his beloved Elyne was headed for the Americas, he was inconsolable. Able to follow their trail, he booked passage to the United States and followed sweet Elyne to New Jersey where Joseph had set up his lavish community. They were reunited in secrecy, but had only moments together.

“One day, Sandy went to the usual meeting place in the woods, by the waterfall, but Elyne never came. It took several days for him to find out she had gone into the wilds of upper New York state where Joseph had built a hunting lodge on a lake he had named after the family—Lake Bonaparte. The sentries at the compound in New Jersey told Sandy that Joseph had betrothed Elyne to one of his guards and once they were married, the couple would be the caretakers of the lodge.

“Sandy was so distraught, he headed for the lodge vowing there was going to be no more secrecy. He was going to tear the hunting lodge log from beam until he had his sweet Elyne and return with her to Scotland. 

“Elyne had begged Joseph not to do this. She was betrothed to another and would kill herself before she married his guard. Joseph ordered her put under guard for the trip to New York until the wedding should take place. Three days after arriving at the Lodge, Elyne escaped. To this day no one has ever found her. Some say she threw herself off Indian Rock out by Green Pond. Most folks think she hid in the cave folks call Bonaparte’s Cave today—only to be eaten by some wild animal making its home there.

“By the time Sandy reached the lodge Elyne was already gone five days. He searched the woods himself even though he was told Bonaparte’s men had searched them just days ago. 

“Saddened beyond belief, Sandy began a slow, melancholy parade along the shores of Lake Bonaparte, skirling his bagpipes hoping his lost love would hear him and return to his side. Sandy died of a broken heart. They found him clutching his pipes just this side of the cave. On certain nights, when the wind is just right you can still hear Sandy as he parades and skirls looking for Elyne, his lost love.”

“Oh, how sad,” said one of the women. “I had never heard that story before. I really should do more reading about my own home-town.”

Before I burst out laughing and/or they caught on, I picked up my bag of groceries and left the store. Apparently, I did a good job. I never heard of anyone refuting my story of Sandy McTavish.

Hector (aka George), the Hero Gargoyle

When I first met Hector, he was on the back porch of my granddaughter’s new house. Maya, my great granddaughter, was frightened by his eyes, so he had to go. I, however, felt drawn to him, and so I took him home with me.

As all 50 pounds of him was placed in my garden, I said, “Your name should be Hector.” 

“No, no ,no,” he pleaded. “Please, my name is George.”

“But, but,” I sputtered, “I just feel your name is...”

“Quiet!” He demanded in a loud whisper. “Can’t you see, I’m missing one wing and one ear?”

“Yes” I said, “I had noticed.”

“Well, how do you think that happened?”

And with that he began telling me his story. 

“I became at the beginning of eternity in a place beyond infinity. I was trained to be Guardian of the Stewards. I learned quickly and did my job well. Maybe too well. I accumulated a few enemies along the way in the form of fire breathing dragons.

“I was assigned to guard the home cave system of a long line of Earth Stewards. This lineage was very benevolent and always championed the populations of Earth. This did not go over very well with the dragons who wanted to enslave the Earth’s populations, and control all Earthly resources.

“A True Dragon, the most feared beast of Dominaria, began circling the area; checking out the fortifications...which consisted of me. I was much, much, much bigger then. This happened millennia ago.

“Diablo Respiración de Fuego Dragon (that was his name) started attacking the caves entrances, which meant he was also attacking me. It was my job to protect the caves and those who lived within them. It was a ferocious attack, lasting many earth years. In the course of wing and fang to claw combat, I lost one wing and an ear. But I battled on. One day I decided I had enough, and I starred Diablo down with such a fierce look, that I literally took all the fire from his breath. That’s why my eyes glow fiery red today.

“Diablo slinked off in disgrace. There were parades and feasts in my honor, but he had one more card to play. My name went at the top of the Most Wanted List of the Fire Breathing Dragon Consortium. I was no longer of any use to my assignment. I changed my name to George and went into obscurity. All of that caused my body to shrink down to the size you now observe. I’ve had to move around a lot, the last place where you found me...that back porch...where I was not wanted and, most importantly, unloved. I haven’t known love in so long...”

Hector began sobbing softly; huge tears ran down his cheeks.

“Oh, Hector, I’m so sorry.”

“For the love of all that’s Galactic, don’t call me that! Do you want to bring the Consortium down on our heads? I’m in no shape to fight them!”

“George, I’m truly sorry. Look, I’m going to do some research on the Consortium, and I’ll get back to you. In the meantime, you just sit here enjoying the sunshine and your new home.”

It took a while, but I hit pay dirt and rushed back to give George/Hector the good news.

“George! Woo hooooo! Listen up!

“About a millennium ago, all the records in the Most Wanted Library burned. Nothing was left but fine ash. It seems that the Fire Breathing Pre-School was next door to the Library. One little whelp, just learning how to breath fire, under-estimated his new-found ability. He took in one deeeep inhalation of air, held it in his internal furnace, and, with a powerful Wooooooosh, let it rip. Right into the Library. All the Most Wanted records were right in front and they went up in flames. 

“As time went by, the old dragons started not remembering so well. They forgot to pass on vital information to the youngsters, and soon the Most Wanted list was forgotten. There is not one fire breathing dragon alive today that remembers what you did to Diablo! They don’t even remember that there was a dragon named Diablo! You’re free! HECTOR!”

“How can I ever thank you? If I wasn’t 50 pounds of solid stone, I’d jump up and down for joy! You can call me Hector, or anything else you want! I haven’t been this happy in literally Ages!” 

I set about decorating his new home by planting mums all around him. 

I swear he smiled.

After much trepidation and random button clicking I'M BACK on my blog spot! 

It has been a long time since my last post. I strongly believe Facebook brought an abrupt end to my posting. Once I had put it in a facebook post, what was let to say. My new plan is to post here at least once a month...maybe more if the occasion calls for it.

So...what have I been up to? Well, let me tell you, it has been mostly the East Windsor (CT) Historical Society. 

In 2016, I began researching three historic houses where I had lived in East Windsor, CT. It was not as simple as I thought. I soon realized I needed to research the history of these houses, not just my memories. And, so it began. I went from researching at Town Hall to visiting the Historical Society. I found all the information I needed. I also saw that the Historical Society needed volunteers to help with the work of accessioning all the items that had been donated over the years. 

One person could not possibly bring all that information up-to-date; and one person was trying to do just that. There were 3 x 5 index cards with the information, and more recently, there were proper donor forms. Lots to do. So I volunteered to help...and I haven't left. 😉

From there I became involved in other activities. Every August we put on an Ice Cream Social. The first one I got involved in, 2017, included the 100th Anniversary of the East Windsor Academy, the grand opening of the Osborn House, as well as the Ice Cream Social itself.

For more information on the Historical Society you can go to www.eastwindsorhistory.com.

So, that's where I've been and it looks like I'll be there for a good long time. Lots of work to be done, and, as so often happens, too few volunteers.

What else have I been up to? I bought a new bike this spring. The weather hasn't been the best for me to ride (I'm 83). Yesterday I finally had a beautiful day and no other plans, so I took a bike ride on the Windsor Locks/Suffield Canal. I will let the pictures speak for themselves. The important thing here, is that the canal has been terribly neglected by the owners. Yes, even though this is on the National Historic Register, its owners are neglectful. The canal was build by Irish immigrants from 1827 - 1829, and has been neglected since the new owners took charge. I called them out on my facebook page. I probably should make that posting PUBLIC. I will do that when I finish here. You can search facebook for Beverly Robidoux Titus, and you should be able to see my original posting there.

Here are the pictures I took. They are on facebook as well.

 This is what's left of the old Enfield dam

 The canal at the north end lock

 A low spot in the river where the rapids are

 The north end of Terry's (King's) Island

 The south end of the island

 A little graffiti under the railroad bridge

 And a little more on the other side

 This is what you do with left-over paint

 A piece of railroad machinery up on the trestle

 The canal crosses Stony Brook by an aqueduct.

 The south end of the trail

 The end of the trail closer to the Montgomery Building apartments

 Just one example of the condition of the path

 Does this look like what water in a canal on the National Historic Register should look like?

 Needs dredging. Badly silted. Has formed new land

 Debris along the canal banks. Below, more debris that will sit there until it rots.