Delivery

When we bought the dishwasher, we were told delivery would be between 7 a.m. (!) and 1 p.m..  The day before it was delivered, we received a message saying it would be delivered between 7:45 and 9:45.  They came around 10 (close enough for me) and were in and out in a flash.

It sat on the kitchen floor for a day, Baco kept wanting to sharpen his claws in the packaging.  The delivery guys came the next day, were friendly, they took out the old one, installed the new one.  It looks good and works fine.   I had heard some bad things about Sears delivery (Romy received the wrong fridge, for example), but no problems for me.  Hopefully my string of bad luck won’t have the machine breaking down imminently.

Speaking of bad luck, I also received delivery of a refurbished Canon a630 from Best Buy this weekend. It was an “online only” sale: $129 less 5%.  I figured it would be a handy and affordable replacement for the stolen G3.  It had a big sensor (for a P&S), a flip out screen, and was much more compact than my G3.  I could buy a long zoom to replace the Panasonic FZ8 later.  Overall, it was a great choice.

Sadly, however, the camera was DOA.  I have no concerns buying refurbished goods.  To my mind, it’s like buying a used camera that has been brought back to “new” condition and comes with a warranty.  Never did I expect that Canon wouldn’t actually make sure it worked before certifying it as refurbished.  When I popped in the batteries and powered it up, the screen was white.  I played around with it – turning the camera on and off, and sometimes the screen would work but be grainy, then streaky, then fade to white.

It was very disheartening.  Not just because I was sold a non-working camera, but because I’ve been having the massive streak of bad luck lately.  Why is it that I’m not meant to have a digital camera?!?  Anyway, I took it back to Best Buy who refunded the amount, including shipping, no problem. 

But I’m worried about buying a Canon camera again.  I realize that every Canon I’ve owned required repair or replacement at some point.  I exchanged the little S100 after a week or so because it got dust on the sensor (the next one was fine).  The G3 was sent in for repair under warranty (I couldn’t annoy my friends with “slide shows” anymore because it would no longer display images on my tv).  And now the A630.  Seems more than just a coincidence and more like systemic quality control issues.

The Panasonic didn’t have a flip out LCD and I didn’t like the way it dealt with skin tones, but it worked fine.  I’m sure it’s still working for the asshole who broke into the house and stole it, or to the asshoel who bought it from him.

I really liked the pictures from my Canon cameras, but maybe it’s time to move on.

Modern Conveniences

I had a good shopping experience on the weekend.  My dishwasher has been broken for a while now.  A repair guy said it wasn’t worth fixing and recommended I buy Bosch or Whirlpool.  So I looked at what was getting good reviews from excellent sites like http://www.consumersearch.com and decided on a Bosch - hoping that paying a little more for an energy efficient (good for the planet) and reliable (good for me)  machine would be better than paying a little less for a Kenmore or Whirlpool (same thing, usually – just different name) with more bells and whistles, but less energy efficiency and possibly less reliable.  The racks on the Bosch aren’t as deep as they are on the GE that died.  But the machine should be a lot quieter than what we’re used to. 

Bosch was on sale at Sears, but only for $50 off.  Stanley, the salesman at Sears, said they will pricematch.  I know Lowe’s sells them, and currently has the lesser model on sale for $100 less than Sears regular price, but they don’t have an online catalog.  Caplan’s and Appliance Depot don’t give prices online.   I came across a Canadian site that sells Bosch – and boy are they cheaper there.   I went back to Sears and they pricematched no problem – saving me an additional $175. 

Woo hoo!  Plus, Stanley was excellent to deal with.  When it’s time for a fridge or freezer, I’ll be back.

Much to my sister’s disappointment, I bought it in white instead of stainless.  I had planned on stainless, but the one they had in the showroom looked a mess with its smeared wipemarks.  I decided I wouldn’t pay another $100 for something that didn’t necessarily look better.

Go Canada, Go

A TTC bus driving up bay street had their electronic sign cycling to “Go Canada, Go” when not otherwise indicating the bus’ route. 

It made me smile.

The New Guy

The last time we inseminated was the first time we had the opportunity to look at some of the sample through the microscope.  Our doctor seemed happy (she thought they were hilarious), but we were kind of disappointed to see what looked like scant and sluggish specimens (to our untrained eyes).

Today we’re using a new donor.  Under the microscope there were a lot more wigglers in the field, and they were a lot more active.  The paperwork said there was 65% post-thaw motility, but the doctor said it looked more like 90%.  Let’s see if these oomphier looking sperm will do a better job.

Go little swimmers, go!

Smiling Happy Faces

S and I spent some time trying to get the Study back in order.  Every paintable surface in the room has been painted: walls, ceiling, trim, radiator, floors and bookcases.  We decided to stop before painting the upholstered chair and the big desk.  You have to draw the line somewhere.

While unpacking boxes of books etc to re-populate the room with stuff, I was looking through some old photographs.  Pictures of mom and dad when they were dating, when they married, and when I was young.  They were both good looking, smiling, happy.  And it made me feel sad to see those pictures, to see them bright with potential - their whole lives ahead of them - and to know how it all turned out.  Years of unemployment before they moved to southern Ontario when I was in university.  Years of mom’s mental illness.  Years of a troubled marriage.  All to culminate in Dad dead at 64 and Mom living in a group care home.

I’m sure it wasn’t what they imagined for themselves, back in the 60’s when the sun shone brightly on them.

So I will remind myself to enjoy the sun when it shines on me, becasue I know our days are not many on this earth.  Or, in the words of Trooper – we’re here for a good time, not a long time.  So have a good time, the sun can’t shine every day.

The balance between the bad and the good

I noticed my passenger rear tire was all but flat.  I drove gingerly to a gas station and filled it up with air, and that’s when S noticed a screw was embedded in my front passenger tire.

So – what’s going on?  I seem to drawing bad luck these days.  My calf laming up, a severe scalding, 3 major appliances needing repair, a break-in where only my stuff was stolen… and now two punctured tires.

At least my DVD player still works.  I’m watching Battlestar Galactica.  It’s just as good as people have been telling me, and I feel ultra geeky watching long sessions of its sci-fi goodness.  Good characters, good story, and good god but I can happily spend hours watching Starbuck and Boomer.

The Paint Job

I had a homeless guy on his hands and knees in my front hallway, this weekend, and I’m still trying to sort out how I feel about that.

S and I hired a paint company to paint our porch last month.  We had a couple of businesses out to give us a quote.  The guy who owns the company we landed with was quite a salesman.  He seemed very passionate about painting, especially about painting older homes.  I thought “this is a guy who won’t be taking shortcuts.  This is a guy who will want the end product to be top notch.”  Sure, his quote was significantly higher than the other guys, but we went with him.  There were a couple of problems, but they got sorted out.  Overall my only beef was that the guy talked too much – way too much.  Way way too much.  We started coming home later just to avoid him.

We decided to ask him what he’d suggest for the upstairs floors, which were painted white but the paint (and the years of paint and varnish beneath it) was chipping off.  He gave us a quote, and S, with a nesting urge that’s stronger than I am, went for it.  We moved everything out of the study and the hallways and let them get to work.  A few days later the hall carpet was gone, the floors were scuffed, primed and painted.  Small repairs were made and new quarter round was put down.  It took them many tries to get the paint to cover the study floor where I had scraped away the old paint.  I’m not sure how long it will adhere, I’m not sure they used the right product (they opted for a garage floor paint – which is effective for cement floors because it will etch into them.  I’m not sure if there’s any benefit to using it on wood).  I do notice that the floors get soiled easily. Plus, they got paint spatter on our flagstone when they were cleaning their brushes and  got some paint of the harwood floors on the main floor.  It looks like they had tried to clean it up but merely worked it into the grain. When I pointed it out, they said they’d clean it up no problem. 

S, still nesting, decided that now was the best time to have the tall wall in the stairway painted – the one that goes from the main floor to the upper floor – before the hall furniture went back.  She got a quote and they came and painted.  There are two of them: the owner and an employee.  I learned that the employee gets paid $100 per day, and is clearly the better worker of the two.  The employee seemed to realize the same thing and they had a parting of ways part way through the job. 

The wall looked pretty good after the first coat, before the employee left.  But instead of putting a second coat on, the guy decided to just touch up certain spots.  The roller marks were visible and the wall started to look shoddy.  So we pointed out the problem and said the wall needed the second coat we were quoted for.  The guy showed up and diluted the remaining scant paint in the can and touched the wall up again, which was no better.  He brought another worker along with him, who was on his hands and knees with a rag and some hot water, trying to work out the paint from the hardwood floor (which had gotten worse while the wall was being painted).

This new helper had been in the painting business for a number of years, and couldn’t figure out why the guy hadn’t used a dropsheet.  Overall, he seemed to not think much of the guy we hired.  We got to talking and he told me he had been painting houses in Leslieville for a few months now – word of mouth, because he doesn’t have a phone.  In fact, he doesn’t have an address or any ID.  The guy is homeless.  He asked if he could buy a tent off of me, but we don’t own a tent, so I gave him a small tarp.  I’m pretty sure he got paid in beer that day.

The painter will be back Wednesday, to put on a proper second coat.  And that’s the last time we’ll hire him. 

I’m still not sure how I feel about having had a homeless guy brought into my house, or having watched him on his hands and knees trying to clean up the mess left by the painter.  Of the two guys though, the homeless guy seemed more straight up and honest.