Classic Amishland

I realized when I scrolled through the recent pictures for the young Mennonite girls in the story I detail below that I have few pictures from right here in Amishland. My camera went with me to work today. I snapped some pictures as seen below.

My first job this morning was for a nice widower that lived in a cool small house with a spectacular view of 'classic Amishland.' As I went about correcting his problem and up-grading him to HD service on his 52-inch flatscreen; I asked him if I could take some pictures of his classic view. He smiled and said, 'You're the third guy that came over here to service something that asked me that.' He happily obliged.

He asked if my camera had a zoom as I snapped the first few shots. I said, 'yes.'
He pointed and said, 'The one farmer down there has a sense-of-humor; you see the 'smiling barn?'' I zoomed in that area, sure enough! Click to enlarge the fourth picture of the country-side; you will see it, too.

Later in the day I had a 'trouble-ticket' scheduled between 1-3PM. It was in a unique community. The strict local zoning laws were relaxed to allow for a 'mixed-use' community. It is fashioned to be a 'Bavarian' village. The structures have commercial space on the first floors; residential space above. The shops are an eclectic mix. The concept is cool; as you can see.

The pedestrian streets were quiet as it was not a Sunday. The clock-tower visible through the tower-gate arch is at the entryway of a huge antique market. For some reason, the market is only open on Sunday. The antique market is connected to a nationally-renowned micro-brewery. The micro-brewery is connected to a good restaurant. I'm sure it gets a fair amount of traffic on the weekends. The planned community is still in development. It is probably one of those local 'gems' most tourists never see.

Cross Cultural Encounters

This morning began just like every other morning this week. The air was thick. The sky was hazy, almost cloudy. The slowly emerging sun only served to 'brew the stew.' Today was one of those days when the most uncomfortable part of the day comes around 10 AM as the combination of heat and humidity has the air almost saturated. My least favorite time of the year here. It can be brutal.

My first job this morning was scheduled between 9AM and 1PM. I pulled into the driveway after making a phone call to them at 8:55 AM. I was there to connect them to the internet. Today's route saw me working in my least favorite area to work of those served by our office. In today's area there is still a lot of the 'PA Dutch' influence.

The people in this area do not want to be bothered on any level other then you doing your job. There is no warmth, no conversation; just get in, get it done and tell me what you need to. This goes against my natural-grain as I try to be warm and converse with the people so they are comfortable with me being in their homes. I could tell before I arrived at their home this morning that these were people whose roots were very deep in Lancaster County. Not only was the name on the account a classic local name but the phone call I was required to make before my arrival was to the husband. After talking to me he then called his wife at the house to tell her I was on my way. Given this fore-knowledge my personal expectation of the job were very low.

I parked in the driveway near the side door of the house. The woman was on the porch shaking out a floor mop; two young girls played outside nearby. She said good morning to me as I called the office to take care of administrative things I needed to do for the job. After my call I went to the door and didn't need to ring the bell as a large dog began barking. A woman's voice said, 'You can come in.' I smiled as the dog barked again. I noticed a large German Shepherd in a loft area above the kitchen. I smiled and said something 'reassuring' to the agitated dog. The woman said, 'Don't worry, we'll keep him upstairs. The computer is in there around the corner in the office. If there's anything you need to know, please ask.' I thought 'wow, right down to business.'

I surveyed the office area as she stood nearby. I asked, 'May I see in the basement.' She said, 'The door is right around the corner underneath the staircase.' It really was all I needed to know. I found it. I found the light switch, too. I went about the job quietly; as efficiently as I could. The wiring part took little more than half-an-hour. During that time the air became more intolerable. I walked right through the open kitchen every time I entered or left the home. By the end of that part of the job I was soaked with sweat.

I went into the house for the last time and connected the modem to the new line I had put in. I couldn't find the mouse on a very neatly organized wooden desktop. I noticed the one little girl was watching me nearby. I asked her if she knew where the mouse was. She smiled and told me she wasn't sure. Just about that time I found it 'tucked away' in an organizer compartment. I changed the settings on the PC and connected to the internet through their browser.

The little girl was right next to me and smiled when she saw the 'Google' page come up. I typed in 'Cable Guy in Amishland' and connected to this blog. I scrolled down to my picture and said, 'That's me.' I clicked on it to enlarge and she said, 'Wow, where were you?' So I told her where the picture was taken. I looked at her and asked, 'You want to see some pictures I took in NYC?' She smiled and said, 'Let me go get my sister....' She bolted into another room then returned with her sister.

I scrolled through the pages of the blog and showed them pictures from my travels. The Great Lakes, Niagara Falls, and NYC. The girls were 'ooohing and aahhhing' as I got to the re-posted picture above. It was then I realized that Grandma had come around the staircase to see what was going on. In a somewhat condescending voice she said, 'Well aren't you just proud of yourself?' I was taken aback; unsure how to respond. I thought what a strange thing to say. Heaven forbid I show the children there is a universe beyond their little world. Needless to say, it was soon after that I headed for the door.

It's encounters like that which remind me; I am from a different culture. Last week there was another.

I had been running 'trouble tickets;' correcting people's TV or internet problems. One of the tickets was a complaint about 'snowy lower channels' on their TV. I arrived at the house on-time and the woman allowed me inside. She directed me to the TV in the living room; said the trouble was only on that TV. I immediately noticed she had a DVR from us. I asked her to please remove the stuff from on top of the DVR after which I measured the signal on the line attached to the box. There was nothing. Nada. Zero. I pulled the DVR out away from the entertainment center and realized the DVR was not connected to the TV. I looked at the woman and asked why the DVR was not connected to the TV. She looked at me and said, 'They turned it off a few days ago.'

'They' was us; the Cable Co. I looked at her and asked, 'You mean we turned off the cable box because your account is delinquent?' She answered, 'Yes.' I began laughing; she asked, 'What's so funny?'

We don't turn off the boxes until the account is three months delinquent. I smiled and said, 'It's just kind of funny to me that you haven't paid your bill for months but still called to complain about the service.' I thought I wouldn't have the nerve to call and complain about service I hadn't paid for. I mentioned it back at the office later in the day and everyone there seemed to agree; takes a lot of 'nerve' to call and complain about something you haven't paid for.

Unbelievable.

I did have fun with a couple in a hilltop log home at the end-of-the-day yesterday. The home was reminiscent of a log home in the Tennessee hills. It was very nice. It was very nice to meet them, too, and I do hope I corrected their problems. I hope they liked some of the other tips I gave them, too. Very nice people, indeed.

Hope everyone's doing well.

Convert

Today was another beautiful day here in the northeast. Sunshine through some high clouds, low humidity. It was another 'treat' considering the often brutal Augusts here. I spoke with a friend on the phone yesterday; he was ready for a return trip to my river island beaches. I told him to be here at 10:30 and we would make it happen.

We got down to the riverside about 10:45 and the place was 'hopping.' There were a lot of people coming and going. The parking lot was near capacity. We managed to get into the water and away from the chaotic scene as quickly as we could.

We immediately headed for the island. I could see as we approached it that the Lotus were blooming in the water-lily field near the island's shore. I pointed the canoe in that direction. The picture above is of a Lotus in full bloom in the morning sunlight. I steered the canoe around the side of the lily bloom-field that would allow us to enjoy the fragrance in the almost-still air. It was nice start to a beautiful day.

We rounded the lily bloom-field and headed down-and-around the southern point of the island. After we round that point we are in a different world out on the water; away from 'the rest of the world.' The water was so nice and calm I decided to take him to a different beach than the one we had visited before. Again, he loved it.

He is going to college this fall. He is an ex-Marine and is certified now for his GI Bill. He told me his first priority when his benefits start is to buy a new computer for college. His second? He wants to buy a canoe or kayak so he can go out there on his own.

He told me when we came back in, 'ANY time you want to go out there, you let me know.' I think I have created a 'convert.' He loves it out there, too.

Nice Day

The weather was awesome today. The climate here in Amishland is often cruel in August. The humidity with the heat often reign; the 'feel' brutal. Today was perfect. It was brightly sunny, low humidity. So many of the pictures posted here are not local. I posted the one above to show; I really do live in Amishland. I snapped that Wednesday as I was working.

The weather seemed to affect people's attitudes, too. I had fun with most of 'my people' today. Other than one local woman who seemed 'distant;' all the people I encountered today were pretty cool.

Woman 1

I learned early on that she was not 'from' this area, either. She was well-traveled; not a part of the local culture, either. We had a nice conversation; we both had past childhood 'ties' to the Washington, DC area. My dad was at the Pentagon with the Air Force; her dad at the CIA out in Langley. It was very cool to talk to her.

Guy 1

My second personal contact today was with a gentleman who lived in an apartment. I was there to correct a problem he was having related to a system-change we had made at the office. It was a quick setting change on his TV sets. He spoke with mild accent. I asked soon after I entered the apartment, 'Sir, where are you from?' He answered, 'Russia.'

I smiled and looked at him and said...IN RUSSIAN...'I don't understand Russian.' He laughed loudly. Told me I was 'very good,' in Russian! It was all good. We had a nice talk, too.

Woman 2

I was dispatched to correct an internet trouble for a customer. Again, it was related to a systemic system change we had made. I needed to replace the cable modem. I knew that before I knocked on the door. A very nice woman opened the door and somehow through casual conversation we found that we knew many of the same people. She worked for a company that was a 'spin-off' of the company I worked for before I became the cable guy. That company went out-of-business; a lot of the people moved on to the 'spin-off.' I could have gone there, too.

It's rare on my job that I meet many people with whom I have any 'personal connections.' I work in an area 15 miles or so from where that previous job was. Most of the people, including myself, lived within a couple miles of the plant. This place is very 'parochial;' people don't stray very far from their homes. My second morning woman contact was with Valerie; it was very cool to talk to her and 'catch-up' on names I haven't spoken for quite a long time. The core company had been a cool place to work; we all 'played together well.' After that company dissolved; we all went our own ways. Valerie provided a thread of contact to many of the people I used to work with. Small world; here, indeed.

I was 'intrigued' by the prospect of being the cable guy; seemed like it would be a pretty cool job. Just for the record; I applied for and became 'the Cable Guy,' BEFORE the movie was released. I have been doing this now a long time. I now have enough seniority that I get 'first choice' of days off; the company maintains 'quotas' as we are a service company. I am sixth in seniority at our office; the quota now is seven.

There are 22 'Cable Guys' at our office. Some of them do only 'construction,' some of them only do 'line maintenance.' The rest of us have customer contact. We work different hours; work on-the-road, too. We often only see each other occasionally. The guy below me in seniority saw me the other day and we had a chance to talk. The 2010 vacation calendar is being 'passed-along' now. As we are both now among the 'privileged seven' he was happy to tell me after almost twenty years he could now get the Friday after Thanksgiving off. I was bit more fortunate; it only took me 18.

As I am talking about cool people I meet at work; I have to mention Sue.
I showed up at her door one morning this week to correct a problem and through our conversation learned that her daughter lives within a block from my friends Steve-and-Nancy in Manhattan. We both knew the same corner diner for Saturday breakfast nearby. We laughed about running into each other there. Was very fun to meet and talk to Sue, too. I posted the pictures below for her to share with her daughter; no doubt, it's her neighborhood.

Small world, indeed.

United States Postal Service

Those of you who may have read my past few written entries might have some sense of the daunting circumstances I face with my ailing mom. After trying to evaluate the situation in a rational way I had to do things in a certain order. Her financial situation was the most dire and obviously required immediate attention. The very first thing I did; after I spoke with the attorney and the social worker, was to go to the post office to stop the mail delivery to her house. I explained my circumstance to a clerk named Ryan; of course, I had my power-of-attorney paperwork in my hand.

I was redirecting both my mail and my mom's mail to post office box at the Main local post office. Ryan nicely told me what I needed to do and provided me the forms. I got back in line went back to him with the completed forms and a check for the rental of the PO box. I asked him about the POA. He said, 'It's good you have it; but you don't need to show it to me. That's for your protection if there was ever any allegation of fraud on your part.' I thought it 'odd' that he didn't want a copy of it but figured, 'he's the 'man;' ya know?

After changing her mailing address I had to set about closing her bank account and rolling it over into one that I could handle on her behalf. I did so; the bank would be mailing the new checks. I was off all week and kept an eye on things. I watched as three days after the mail was stopped they continued to deliver the mail. I asked the one carrier, 'What do I have to do to get you people to stop delivering the mail to that house?' He told me he was not the regular carrier; they had talked about it and both were confused. I told him it was to go to the PO Box; could he please pass it along.

The following day the mail was again delivered through the mail slot onto mom's foyer floor. I chased down the regular carrier and said, 'Ma'am, what do I have to do to stop delivery to this house?' She told me I had to go down to the office with my POA to stop it. I told her I had done that almost two weeks ago; she said, 'Sorry, you'll have to talk to the office.'

I immediately drove to the post office. I spoke with a different gentleman; again with my POA papers in my hand. I told him what was going on and asked him, 'What do I need to do to stop delivery to this house?' He walked away with my POA papers, came back some minutes later and told me it would now be okay.

I noticed Friday they had delivered the new checks, ugh. She had written two of them. I had no idea for how much; I knew mom didn't, either. I snagged them right away. I went to work yesterday so was unavailable at the time of mail delivery; I found her this morning going through more 'charitable' solicitations. I snagged them up right away, and hugged her as I left for work. I wanted to get to work early as I was going to be on the phone; with the postal service. I really don't have much of a temper; my blood was boiling.

I got to work with twenty minutes to devote to this until it was time to punch-in. It was no great surprise when the first number listed was a recording directing me to another. That number rang endlessly. I finally got a number where someone answered at the Main Post office on Harrisburg Pike here in Lancaster, PA. I asked immediately to speak to the Postmaster. She advised me he was on vacation. I curtly explained the situation to her; I had been to the office TWICE with my POA paperwork yet they continued to deliver mail to my mom's house. I told her I want to talk to someone NOW.

She directed me to some poor woman at the 'Carrier Annex.' It is much easier to 'go-off' on someone over the phone than in person. I 'went-off' on her. 'WHAT DO I NEED TO DO TO STOP MAIL DELIVERY TO MY MOM'S HOUSE?' She checked on her system and told me for some reason my mom's change of address had been 'deleted.' She told me that I was going to have to go to the post office; fill out a new change of address card and, once again, present my POA paperwork. I explained to her my exasperation as I had already been there and done that TWICE! She understood and apologized. She told me she would put the change of address cards in the PO Box I had rented weeks earlier; to fill them out return them to her and it would be taken care of.

On my way over to mom's tonight I stopped in at the post office to retrieve the new change-of-address cards and follow the instructions. When I entered I noticed the service windows were open; I thought they would be closed. I got the forms and went out to my car where I had a pen. I would fill out the cards and take care of it right then and there.

I re-entered the post office and took my place in the queue. After a brief wait whose window opened up? None other than Ryan's. Ugh. I approached the window and asked him if I could talk to a supervisor. He told me no, as none were available that late in the evening; it was 5:30PM. I told him that despite two previous visits the mail was still being delivered to my mom's home. He remembered me from my first visit when I rented the PO Box.

I told him I was told on the phone with a woman at the 'Carrier Annex' that morning; that I was to fill out the change-of-address cards and present copy of the POA there to get it taken care of; once-and-for-all. He told me he would take the change of address cards from me; and again told me he didn't need to see the POA papers, as it wasn't their 'policy or procedure now.' This is when I began making my scene.

I said, 'You people need to get your act together! I was told on the phone this morning to come back in here for the THIRD time with my POA papers and fill out change-of-address cards for the SECOND TIME. WOULD YOU PLEASE TELL ME WHAT I NEED TO DO TO STOP THE DELIVERY OF MAIL TO MY MOM'S HOME. SHE IS NOT COMPETENT TO HANDLE IT!' I am sure I gave the people waiting in line something to talk about that evening.

The guy looked at me and said, 'I am telling you I do not need to see the POA paperwork. That is only for your protection if any fraud is alleged against you for the change-of-address, you know, like if you got caught changing it without someone's knowledge.' He obviously didn't want to be bothered with dealing with the papers. He asked who I had talked to in the morning. I didn't know; the envelope was still in the car. He was refusing to take the POA papers from me and I asked him his last name. He snapped, 'That's none of your business.' I think after my THIRD trip to the post office to take care of something simple it most definitely was MY BUSINESS. He continued, 'I'm the only Ryan here; they'll know who you are talking about.'

I said, 'Look, will you please make copies of the POA paperwork and attach it to my mom's change-of address card and I also want a receipt showing I provided you with a copy of the POA. He complied with those requests. I told him I hoped he could understand my frustration. I went out to my car and got the envelope the woman I spoke with on the phone had provided; she had addressed it to herself, went back in and handed it to him. There is a lot on my plate now trying to straighten out my mom's affairs. I don't need to be running to the post office every week to attempt to stench the flow of her resources, ya know?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I was in an older couple's home since then to solve a TV problem they were having. I was sorry to inform them the trouble was inside their TV set. They understood but resisted my suggestions to resolve the problem. They said, 'too complicated.' We started talking about technology and the older gentleman said, 'well look, this Internet is going to put the Post Office out of business.' I looked at him, smiled, and said, 'It can't happen quickly enough for me.' They were puzzled.

I explained.
They understood.

* * Click On Images To Enlarge * *

A Dead Dog and a Diary

I'm not sure now if words can adequately explain the range of feelings thrust upon me today by events out-of-my-control. I hope talking openly about the events will be cathartic and help me deal. It was a tough day, for sure.

In the past few entries I have talked openly about my mom's condition. I am sorry to say, in a few short days things have gone from bad to worse. There can be no doubt; I am looking out across the edge of an abyss.

I took my mom's car from her a couple weeks ago. At that moment she became completely dependent upon me. I now have to be sure she gets all that she needs. In this brief time 'groceries' became an issue. I took her to the store one day and we shopped for her. We bought $50 in groceries.

When I checked two mornings later it was all gone. I had noticed that she may have been feeding the dog her food. After each and every absence I would find her food in the dog's bowl. Ham, Turkey, pasta salad, dried pineapple, dried apricots. It was all mom's food; mixed with canned dog food. It was all in the dog's bowl. After days of pleading with her to NOT feed the dog her food; I finally put a sign on her refrigerator that read, 'Do NOT feed the dog YOUR food!' I am sorry to say, it was to no avail.

Yesterday morning as I was on my way to work I told her I did not know what to do. I had spent $100 in groceries in a few days; it all disappeared. I told her I thought I should take the dog, for the dog's protection, as she was over-feeding her. She cried and cried and told me not to take the dog. She told me the dog is all she has. She told me she wouldn't feed her anymore of her food. I had heard that many times before as I pleaded with her to understand that she was hurting the dog.

Now that her car is gone; I now not only have to provide for her needs but the timing of some of them, too. After her doctor's visit on Friday she now has medications that need to be taken at certain times. That has only complicated matters for me juggling my job, her needs and the timing of them. Not to say anything about the monitoring that I now see she requires. It's been an abrupt life change for me, you can be sure.

I decided last night that I could no longer take groceries to her as they would only be fed to the dog. I stopped on my way over before work in the morning at local McDonald's. I bought an egg McMuffin value meal with orange juice, no coffee. I drove the short drive to mom's and she unusually met me at the door. She opened the door, I said 'Good Morning, I brought breakfast for you.' She smiled and said, 'That's nice.'

I walked into the entry foyer and glanced into the living room. I saw Sammy, the pug, laying near the kitchen entry-way covered with a towel. It was a warm, very humid morning here; the air-conditioning in the house was not on. I asked, 'Mom, why do you have Sammy covered up with a towel?' Mom said, 'I want to keep her warm.' I asked, 'What do you mean, it's warm outside and warm in here?' She said, 'I just wanted her to be comfortable. Sammy was aging, deaf and familiar with me so it was not uncommon for her not to stir from a sound sleep on my arrival. I walked past her as I took mom's breakfast into the kitchen; pulled it out of the bag and told her to eat. Mom thanked me.

I walked over to the dog and reached under the towel to 'roust' her awake. She was unresponsive. I rubbed a little harder; again, no response. She was lying in a sleeping position, her front paws curled underneath her. I reached underneath her to see if she would respond. I am sorry to say, as I lifted her she did not. The floor was warm underneath her; she must have just died. I looked at mom and said, 'The dog is dead.' Mom said, 'I was just playing with her.' I said, 'I'm sorry, mom, she's gone.'

It was 7:30 and I immediately called my boss and told him I was sorry but would not be in as mom had an emergency. I could not possibly leave a dead dog in mom's living room; was unsure other than to bury her with what to do. I searched for a box, mom got a blanket. I dug a hole near where mom's last pug was buried and I buried Sammy. I cried and apologized as I did. I really tried to look out for the little dog, too. It was very heart-breaking. All that know me know how much I love pugs. I will never forget her passing and burial. I am so sorry for the dog, sorry for my mom, too. The dog had been her companion for 12 years. The dog had been very good for her.

After I buried the dog I set about some 'administrative' chores for my mom. I had changed her bank accounts to prevent her from sending money to 'illicit' charities. Two sources were 'covered,' one was not. I did what I could to cover that base; the VA advised me to download form, take to bank to initiate the process required for them. I followed their directions but need information on the form that could only possibly be located at mom's. I went there to look.

I looked more deeply and thoroughly through mom's desk drawers and hiding spaces than I had at any time before. I needed that benefits number to assure that her benefits get to where they need to be; so I can provide the help she so obviously needs. I am sorry to say, nowhere did I find any documentation of the benefit claim number; I am still searching.

Deep in one of her desk drawers I did find a spiral notebook labeled, 'Diary for Chris.' That would be me. I pulled it from the drawer and opened to the front page; no doubt, I was curious. On the first small, lined page she noted, 'My first thought in writing all this down is to say to you, 'So you thought you would have the last word.'' Oh my.

I took the spiral notebook with me after I gave mom her medication and put her to bed. My friend, Jeff, in Michigan called me soon thereafter on my ten minute drive back to my home. I told him of the diary; what I had read. I pulled into my driveway; pulled out the notebook and read random entries to him. We talked on the phone as I sat in the driveway for some time.

He was shocked by the passages I read. I advised him 'that's my mom.' He knows me well. My diary readings only confirmed; mom and I were two very different people. There was never any doubt she loved me, so sad to see her fade. We had a long talk about the 'culture' of our family; he understood things he may not have before. My life was always about how I 'reflected' on my mom; not how 'happy' I was. The diary pretty much confirmed that. It's very interesting. When people comment about how polite and respectful I am, my knee-jerk response is, 'My mom would be proud.'

Jeff's response to the diary passages; 'How sad.' It was clear the book was not meant to be read until after she passed. On the first page she wrote, 'My first thought as I begin this is; 'and you thought you would have the last word.' I can only surmise part of our internal 'half-empty/half-full' thing. After reading that line one of my first thoughts was, 'take this home and just burn it back in the woods.' At the same time it was, obviously, 'raw mom.' Given her current mental state and wanting to preserve ANYTHING that remains of who she was; I could not possibly destroy it.

I read some passages to Jeff as I sat in my car in my driveway. Jeff labeled the entries and comments as 'poison.' He told me how sad that my mom would want to strike at me like that; she wanted some control even from the grave. Perhaps a reason we have had our 'troubles.' So sad, indeed.

Jeff is my best friend in the world. He has shared so much with me. Our spirits seem entwined with not only our common Zodiac sign; but some deeper spiritual 'kismet,' too. Through many of our troubled times we have always been there for each other for support. Just last night he told me I was more important than his yard work. Sure sign of true friend!

THANK YOU, so much; for EVERYTHING!

I didn't ask him to change his plans for the evening; he sensed I needed some attention. I love him very much. We live 500 miles apart but the technology is great as we can keep in touch in different ways more than once or twice daily. Gotta love it; gotta love Jeff, too!

Thank you so much, my friend.

Just an update.

Hope all's well with everyone, too.

'night