Sounds like a monitor setting. I forget the names, but there’s a setting on your monitor that adjusts the shape of the display. Fiddle with those, you should get it back.
there are buttons on the monitor itself - at the center bottom of the front of the housing, either out in the open, or hidden behind a spring loaded door - those have the settings you can “fiddle” with
Mika -this must be said: these relatives are dorks. Sorry, but there it is. I keep thinking of Bend It Like Beckham, where Jasminder really doesn’t want to know how to cook dal (dahl?). But I digress.
I have (re) painted the trim in the front hall, and in the regular hall. I am taking a break and then will do the FH walls (second coat). This tiny room was the room my older two were to do-and they did. Ok, I’ll just say it: they suck at painting. So, yes, I am redoing it and NO, I am not taking this opportunity to teach them the best way to paint.
And can I say that I now loathe paint, in all it’s guises? I am so sick of paint and painting, and I still have wallpaper to replace in the DR and the whole LR and DR to paint as well(DR dado and trim, and LR walls and trim). Plus, master bedroom paint looks like crap now that every other room looks sparkly new, not to mention the basement stairwell, as well as the stairwell upstairs.
someone shoot me, now.
Off to run errands for a bit, then dive into the paint again. Whee! Envy me. :rolleyes:
mika, Are you sure this isn’t another Bollywood movie? 
Puggy, see, I went to that bar myself. So I can’t count that as a bar Shibb and me went too. I didn’t stay long either cause I was tired and had several blocks to walk to get to my hotel. I was just researching, is all cause that’s what we thought and I just wanted to confirm. That way, see, Shibb knows it’s that kind of bar now so he won’t accidentally wonder in it. Actually, it would be pretty clear because there’s a sign that says, just after you walk in, “This Is One Of Those Kinds Of Bars, But Everybody Is Welcome As Long As You Act Nice” or something like that.
The sushi was good! I had some unagi, scallop, yellow fin, some salmon roll, then another scallop, another unagi and some more yellow fin. I was stuffed when I left which means I’ll be starving in an hour. I’ve figured this out… the more sushi you eat the hungrier it makes you a couple of hours later. Why is that?
LiLi fiddle with the monitor settings for a bit. Could one of the evil overlords you reside with have bumped into it?
Rigs it’s ok to take a little break, I guess, but you need to get back to painting soon, you hear? Don’t you roll those eyes at me. I saw that!
I forgot to say…
Yikes Mika. Mr. Touchy Feely would have gotten back handed if it was me. Then again, I’m not as nice as you.
My work puter is pouting at me today. This morning it was all whiny wanting windows and antivirus updates. All day it’s been kinda slow running, but it’s gettin’ better. I leave it alone for a week and it takes a while for me to get forgiven. 
Welcome to Minnesota. Yes, our wildlife is dangerous. Just last weekend I was coming home from camping at Sibley State Park (a couple hours west-north-west of the cities). Just outside of New London, I see a group of bikers turn on the highway in front of me and as I’m watching them speed off into the distanc-BAM! I hit a deer. More of its butt than anything. It bounced off of the grill of my 2 month old (to me) PT Cruiser and fled into the woods across the street ne’er to be seen from again. Scared the everlovin’ poop out of me. And the deer too as when I went out to look for the deer and inspect the damage, my grill was speckled with fur and completely covered in deer doo. The way it kept going made me assume it was ok and after the police report and estimate, I’m glad that the $3400.00 in damage is being mitigated by a $500.00 deductible. Sigh.
My mom called me on their way down to Tucson today. They’re moving down there from here and she called thinking of me. Along the way, she saw a street sign that said “DANGER, DEER SUICIDE AREA, NEXT 24 MILES”. Not “crossing” but “suicide”. Apparently the deer are being checked out clinically.
To get over my disdain for deer, a friend took me to Fawn-Doe-Rosa with his daughter on Saturday. A weird relic of what should be the past but is still open to this day. It’s a petting zoo with bunnies, lynx, bison, geese (not very friendly, the daughter got hissed at), and deer. I fed and pet a deer and attempted to make amends. Right now, it’s still an uneasy détente while my new bumper is on back order.
Is it wrong of me to laugh at the image of Sam getting touchy-feely with Swampy? I sure hope not . . .
Thank you, I have now spewed cantaloupe everywhere.
On to the next part!
Day 2, the Saga of Cookingness.
Saturday was one of the most boring days ever. I didn’t actually mind the cooking of rotis but the waiting around was awful. Everyone took an afternoon nap, as did I. Then, everyone took an evening nap after dinner. I couldn’t sleep, so I watched an Indian movie…Gopi. I swear to you this movie would not end. Gah!
We finally managed the cooking of about 1000 rotis and packaging. We woke everyone up at 10 PM, then everyone started slowly moving around, getting ready, loading stuff in the car, etc. I couldn’t believe how slowly everyone went. Like it was no big deal at all that we had a 13 hour drive coming up. I wanted to scream!
Lissa expressed surprise that we left at midnight. Um, no. We left at TWO AM. Yes, that’s it, 2 Am, because no one could get coordinated enough to leave by midnight. Talk about boring.
Then we stopped by the bank, and got gas, and a bunch of other things that I really think could have been done earlier in the day, don’t you?
So we didn’t actually get out of town until 3 AM.
Please note that my aunt didn’t drive with us. Because of her double knee surgery, she was going to fly into town the next day. So there was five of us.
I have to concede, though, that the van was superb. It was an Odyssey, with lots of leg room, individual climate controls, lots of comfort, and no one really felt crowded. Even a 13-hour drive wasn’t too bad. We stopped about every 250 miles. The trip was fairly uneventful until morning, and then it was just a matter of watching the gorgeous desert scenery and sleeping. I’ve lived in temperate or cold climates all my life; never seen mountains like that. Michigan was a flat plain, and NY is hilly but soft hills. These were real honest-to-goodness mountains. And flat for miles, with scrub brush. And not a pine tree in sight.
In the next post: How I Decided to Push My Relatives off a Cliff.
Great Op, I have three good goose stories.
Goose story #1
When I was a kid, my brothers and I spent a great deal of time at our grandparents “farm”. It was just 20 acres in what was then rural Stanwood, Washington. They had 5 acres cleared and in use. The house was set in the center of a squared U shaped pasture for the cows, there was a vegetable garden running the length of one of the longer U sides, there was a huge barn, and behind the pasture were 15 acres of woods. It was a great place to run wild. We spent almost every weekend and every school vacation up at the farm.
One Spring Gramma went to the feed store to get whatever for the cows, and there happened to be goslings for sale. So she came home with three baby geese. My brothers and I thought that was great, baby birds to play with! Well, by the time summer vacation came around the goslings had grown enough to have formed an alliance, and we were not recognized as friendly personnel. We tried to coax their friendship with different food treats, (hey, it worked with most of the cows) but the geese held firm to their determination to rid the farm of anyone under five feet tall.
So my brothers and I resorted to our only option; weapons. We were raised that, 99% of the time we did chores, got ready for the day and went outside if there was no school. We were raised with a minimum of tv time, and if a grownup happened upon you while you were lounging about you would be plied with chores until getting free and outside was a goal to be desired. We armed ourselves with nice hefty sticks which to brandish at the geese until we could make it into the woods. We were allowed self defense as long as we didn’t harm the animals, and the gang of three geese chased us merrily all summer long. The worst part was going inside for lunch or dinner through one door, leaving our sticks on the porch, and then forgetting and going out the other door, because if those geese saw that we were in the yard without sticks, we were in for a free-for-all run to the other porch, geese running after us with wings outspread, necks snaking out, hissing, and giving goose bites which hurt a lot and leave big bruises. Then we would pretty much fence (as in rapier duel) the stupid geese as we edged to the fence for the mad scramble up and over, where we could generally count on sprinting across the pasture to the other fence and escape into the woods. It was a stressful three seasons on the farm that year.
I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a Christmas dinner more than I did the year we ate those damn birds!
Part Two later.
I forgot, I do have one small goose story.
My parents lived in this house that overlook a rather large pond. The pond, and a good distance around it, was city property, and there were some geese that lived back there.
We used to feed them sometimes but generally ignore them. One day we had guests in the house. As they were leaving, we came out to walk them to their car. We stayed there talking for a few minutes. Out of the corner of my eye I saw some geese walking toward us.
Eventually a whole family of geese came through the grass and right into our yard. Our property was about an acre. So that’s half an acre up across the lawn. Plus, beyond our property was probably another acre of city property, maybe more. So these geese had walked over almost two acres to get to us.
They marched imperiously right up to us and began honking loudly, seemingly demanding food. They walked right up to the car. It was the weirdest thing ever. They tried to bite the car, didn’t find it tasty, and continued honking until I ran inside to get some bread. I gave it to them, they ate it, and returned back to the pond. And no goose ever did anything like that again, even though we lived there for another 3 years after that.
Weird.
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time somebody named Sam got all touchy-feely with me. Ya know, now that I think about it, I can recall three touchy-feely Sams. Their touchy-feelingness was, however, appreciated and reciprocated.
kaiwik jake story. Nuttin’ like a Christmas dinner of arch enemy to give one that overall “Peace On Earth Goodwill To Mankind” feeling is there?
hehe, thanks swampbear, you are so right!
As a 20’something a friend and I drove from Everett, Washington to Vancouver, B.C. to visit her elderly grandmother. After the visit we went to a big park (I want to say Stanley Park, but have reached an age where my memory isn’t as reliable as it once was) and were strolling along the lawn beside a large pond/small lake. It was a bright sunny day, lots of people in the park. Lots of people. I see some geese coming toward my friend and I, ignoring every other person in the park, and as they got closer, they homed in on me. Wings outspred, snaking necks, hissing, total flashback moment.
Only it got worse. Pretty soon I swear every stupid goose in the Province was surrounding me, with reinforcements appearing from nowhere to join the horde. I ended up standing on top of a picnic table, totally freaked, while strangers helped my friend chase off the obviously insane birds. It was rather humiliating.
Maybe they knew about Christmas Dinner at your grandparents farm. Them geese can carry grudges for years and years.
My goose story is boring. I was going into work one morning last year and there were two goose families grazing in front of the building. One of the big geese gave me attitude. I told him to shut up, then went into work. See - boring.
I did see a family of swans on the Patuxent River as I was going to class on Saturday. I was crossing the bridge at Benedict, and they had just come out from under it. I think there were 4 of them. Also boring.
Waiting for the kiln to arrive - more later…
The last story:
My parents are bird lovers/watchers, especially my Dad. Having spent decades living in the Pacific Northwest he had species and migratory seasons all figured out, and he watched for birds constantly. (Oh, and he has a burning frustration with the squirrles, which I always compounded because I love squirrels and fed them constantly!)
After retiring from the phone company, my Dad accepted a job on O’ahu. He and Mom had been living there for several months by the time my husband and kids and I made it over for a visit. The kids couldn’t miss too much school, so after a week my husband took the kids home, and I stayed on for a long overdue visit with my folks.
Mom and I had been out shopping, and I bought one of those clocks with different bird calls at each hour for my Dad. He was delighted, and found batteries and hung the clock up. We all pretty much forgot it was there.
So, I was in the computer room, online, when my Dad comes in and with a wry grin he poked me in the ribs and said “Now you can tell all your friends that you goosed your Dad” and walked out of the room.
I was sitting there wondering “Wha…???” when my Mom came in, cracking up with laughter. You see, it had just turned 5:00 and my Dad ran outside when he heard the call of the Cananda Goose, and Mom ran right behind him, both wanting to see them arrow across the sky.
The Hawai’ian sky. The bird call on the clock is the call of the Canada Goose.
You guys, we have decided on a new pet. I really wanted a day gecko but they are hard to find and the local pet store has baby lepord geckos for $25! For a pet that lives pretty long that’s not a bad deal. I got a few books from the library on desert terrariums and I think I will get two baby geckos when the time comes. Pictures when we get them!
Congradulations! My stepsister proposed the idea of a pet gecko last week; she was shot down by her boyfriend. They already have a pair of gerbils and a pair of cats.
does it come with car insurance?
Well, cats do like some variety in their snacks
Friday evenings are my night out with the boys. (I belong to a group that has been meeting once a week to play games for over thirty years.) Last Friday we played Race Day, a new game which I lost badly (crashed in the fourth lap), and Princes of the Renaissance, which I won (largely due to controlling the Pop for 2/3 of the game).
During the last game, my bag with all my gaming stuff fell off the table in the next room and landed upside down on the floor. I went to get it and pick up all the stuff that had fallen out, only to find that only one thing had fallen out - the wedding ring I had lost 5 months ago and was sure was gone forever! When I had realized it was missing, I was sure it had slipped off my finger when I was brushing snow off the car an hour earlier (it was quite loose and I had been going to have it resized), and had fallen into the snow on the street and then been plowed away by the time I got back to look for it. Apparently it had slipped off when I was putting stuff back in the bag after gaming and had been hiding in the bottom ever since. It was my wife’s father’s ring, and had a lot of sentimental value to both my wife and myself, so definitely a happy evening.