**Sigh**
I can see that somebody might set an alert for five or ten minutes before some planned event.
But 75 days, 23 hours, 9 minutes before?! And another only on the 12th of August of 2019?! How is that even plausible?
Uh…
You know, let’s just delete every future version, then create a new one with no alerts.
I’ve spent a bit of time over the past several days re-reading some of the earlier posts on esthermofet.com.
I’d noticed a few things.
Eh, it’s probably nothing.
Right?
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*I don’t speak very often anymore. I used to jokingly and semi-seriously quip “I have a face for radio!” After about August, 2018, I very much have a voice well-suited to blogging.
**Also, of course, over time, I’d included a few posts from other assorted blogs that my wife and I had while we continued our shared journey with RV Life and Unlocating. We had fromtherv.com and shirleyyoujest.com (don’t go to either, they’re now controlled by squatters), but I captured and imported them here. At some point, I’ll see about tagging those posts so they can be more readily separated.
This is a PSA.
Okay, not true.
More of an annoyance.
When somebody says “those three dots” or “the little dots” some variation to describe a button that provides extended or additional information, there’s an actual effing name for it, and it’s not “the three dots”.
It’s called an ellipsis.
Used appropriately, the ellipsis in text indicates that a thought has trailed off or that it represents other, related ideas or thoughts. It could also be used to represent “more”.
Please, for the love of all that is holy, stop referring to it as “the three dots”.
It’s singular. It could be “an ellipsis” or sometimes “the ellipsis”. There’s even a unicode version:
What does it look like? Well…
You could even simplify it from three syllables down to one: call it “more”.
But it’s most certainly not called “those three little dots”.
Maintenance work on a sailboat, like transmissions and dental work, will not improve with time. They need to be tended to regularly and correctly. Not ignored and not with improvised efforts.
After nearly two years of what I’ve already endured, and now re-entering fall and winter, I’ve observed the to years’ of non-use of my sailboat has still incurred those two years’ worth of maintenance… time takes it toll.
The list of little tasks continues to grow. I’ll need to see to making space to store the Lady Ann in a garage so I can address the neglected maintenance, and the additional deterioration from the neglected maintenance itself.
A year and a half ago, I rode my bike for the first time since the fall.
I fell.
Yes, again. No, not on my head, nor from 4m above concrete.
But, I fell.
Instantly recalling the old adage from my youth, if you fall off the horse, get back on. So, I promptly picked myself back up and rode it again.
But I drew the line at the motorcycle. I most certainly didn’t have the physical coordination or psychological confidence to take the risk. I decided that I’d leave the Wee Star parked — safely garaged — and on her own wheels for however long was needed to return to riding.
Fast-forward 18 months to today:
Then thought there was something else — something more — that I needed to tend to before the weather quickly turns rather cold…
A safety-check on the Wee Star, started it up, and donned my helmet to give it another go.
Yes, U-turns were a bit shaky. I need to spend some time practicing them far more and get back to the 3.5m diameter idle U-turns. It was a rather quick spin around the neighborhood. A bit of quick-stop practice. And she still remained on her tires and quite unblemished. I’m rather happy about that.
I’m extraordinarily pleased that I had opted to garage the Wee Star until confidence had returned.
Sometimes, getting back on the horse will take some time.
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Also, I still refuse to let the Wee Star show up at a home on a trailer. She’ll be ridden there under her own power.
