"Your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line."

      I had been on hold and waiting for a customer service representative for close to half an hour.  The scratchy music was hard enough on my ears without the additional break-in suggesting that my call was "very important" to them.  My blood pressure rose, as did my boredom.

     Then I did the unthinkable.  I walked in front of my refrigerator to flop on the bed.  The cellphone signal broke.  My phone disconnected.

     Moments like this one trigger all kinds of thoughts. I had already decided that my call wasn't "very important" to them, or they wouldn't have left me on hold.  I would have dealt with a human instead of a computer, and they would have played cool music of my choosing, or at last updated to something that didn't sound like over-used vinyl. 

     I was on a role.  Living where I live didn't help the situation any, so I came up with a rapid fire listing covering some of the disadvantages:

 *There is a direct correlation between opening windows, and farmers spreading manure.

*The choices of internet are as follows:  slow, very slow, slower than that, or none.

*Cellphone signals view my house as a dead zone unless the wind is blowing in the right direction.  If the wind is blowing just right, a roaming triangle might appear on screen.  Unlimited talk/text/data to anywhere in the U.S. is a farce.  Paying federal taxes, on the other hand, are not.

*Everyone knows who you are.  (Fill in the potential reason of your choice as to why.)

*Showers of whirlybird seeds from the maples landing the gutters.

*Tractors dust settling EVERYWHERE.

*Rusty, icky, smelly water that only the devil could love.

*Ragweed, corn tassels, and soybean dust.

     It felt good to get those truths out in the open, my blood pressure lowered, and I was left with only a moderate level of hate for computerized customer-service lines.  I reanalyzed my living environment, and came up with this quick list of advantages:

*Everyone knows who you are.  (Fill in the potential reason of your choice as to why.)

* Showers of whirlybird seeds from the maples raining down in the spring.

*Watching maple syrup buckets fill, followed by eating maple syrup drippy pancakes.  ( I skipped a few steps in the process, but I’m not a part of any crew that stays up all night boiling the sap.)

*A community spring with the best-tasting water, and the folks I get to meet when we gather to fill our cooler jugs.

*Bonfires of our chosen size.

*Living with internet limitations.

*Living with cellphone limitations.

     I like where I live minus a few glitches.   Dealing with customer service isn't necessarily that bad either since I can make the call while on the clock at the office.   Everybody who deals with computerized "we care" messages should get paid for their time.  This seems only fair.

There Isn't a Title for Everything

     Sometimes life is more strange and surreal than it is at other times.  This week has been one of those weeks, beginning with a near-stranger knocking on my door, crying the other day.  I helped the old woman carry her 60 pound dog back into the house because it had "fallen" down the stairs when she let it outside. The poor pup was old, too, and obviously very sick.  I could smell death on its breath, despite her bright eyes and wagging tail.  The old woman begged me to try and make her dog better.  It broke my heart the way a heart breaks when it knows it can't fix things.  I suggested soft blankets and a water bowl nearby, and that I'd check in with her regularly. 
     Today, I warmed up my jeep well, made a soft bed in the hatchback, and backed it up to her door.  We put the woman's precious baby inside.  The bright eyes and waggy tail from a few days ago weren't there anymore.  She heaved and struggled.  
     I'm not sure how I felt as this woman hung onto me with one arm while stroking and kissing her dog as the vet did what needed to be done.  I'm not sure what I felt when the woman looked at me, not even realizing that it was over and asked: "Is she gone yet?"  Surreal beyond surreal.  A near-stranger hugging me and crying and me consoling.  
     And amidst this beyond my comprehension experience, I feel deeply honored that she felt she could turn to me.  I think I am most deeply touched by that.  Tomorrow is grave-digging day.