Not much "om"...but lots of laughs!

So, I'm sure you're all aware of the recent rise in popularity of various activities one can enjoy in the company of adorable, cuddly...goats? Of course, I'm primarily talking about the phenomenon wherein people gather to engage in the restorative practice of yoga, accompanied by a bevy of barnyard beasties. (That IS where you thought I was going with this...right?)

Well, ever since this became a THING, I've been dying to try it. Apparently (and not at all surprisingly), other folks in my bootcamp gang felt the same way (because really, why wouldn't this come up in ordinary, everyday conversation?)...making it an obvious choice for one of our Summer Field Trips.

Our Fearless Leader did the research for us, and found a farm outside Durham that offered the experience. Alas, the date agreed upon for the outing--because it happened to work with most people's schedules--originally conflicted with Derek's move-in weekend for his apartment in SC. However, once he and I altered our plans slightly to accommodate some last-minute chores we tacked onto our To Do List...it turned out that I'd be able to attend after all....whoo hoo!

Then it was just a matter of meeting up on a Saturday morning to carpool waaaayyy out into the middle of nowhere (or so it seemed on the 40-minute commute). Once we arrived, our group joined the others who'd chosen the same session, to get oriented and situated for all of the fun. One thing that led our pal to choose this particular operation is that they limit the classes to 20 people...to ensure that there are enough animals to go around, for everyone to get individual attention if they so desire. (And we definitely DID want that, obviously!)

Then we entered the fenced-in area (underneath a tent canopy that mercifully shaded us from the August sun, although it couldn't mitigate the humidity. Never mind, we were totally ready and willing to suffer for the cuteness, y'all...), set up our mats, and prepared for...Close Encounters with Capras. The instructor had mentioned that in terms of the actual yoga, we could expect it to be very...loosely structured....shall we say. In other words, you were welcome to follow the directions and do the poses she described--or simply ignore her completely and just hang out with the fuzzy guests.


Once all the preliminaries were squared away, she opened the gate...and allowed the welcoming committee--a whole gaggle of goats, two sheep, and one large (120 pound, they said!) shaggy canine--to rush the enclosure. It was just....an overload of both pandemonium...and preciousness, I tell ya. Some of the visitors settled down immediately on a convenient mat, while others wandered around and checked out as many potential head-scratchers as they could, before deciding where to plop down and rest. And the one who stopped by to say hello to me? Ahem...pooped on my mat. Gee, thanks, buddy--I so do NOT recall signing up for THIS! (We'd been warned that this might happen, and assured that someone would come right over to pick up the pellets if we waved a hand...so it was really only a momentary problem, thank goodness.)


As you can probably imagine, not a whole lot of vinyasa-ing was even attempted, with all the distractions and opportunities to, as the instructor noted, "snuggle" with the friendly farm dwellers. Incidentally, that was another selling point for this location: they actively train their animals to participate in social situations, so they're not only unintimidated by humans, but eager to interact with us. In fact, after moving through a couple of half-hearted stretches, I found myself with a new mat-buddy...who then commandeered that same spot for the remaining time...even when I lay back at one point and placed my head (gently) on his (or her, who knows?) back.

Needless to say, most of what occurred involved the humans giggling, petting, and cooing over the creatures--and of course photographing the shenanigans. Near the end, one little dude decided to take advantage of the fact that he had a ready-made source of tasty salt at his disposal...and began licking my neck. Okay, THAT...was a freaky sensation, I'm not gonna lie. Fortunately, a bootcamp amiga came to my rescue when he (she? whatevs...) took it a step further and started pulling on and nibbling my hair. Kids...what can ya do? (Ha! Sorry...but you had to expect that at some point, yeah? It was inevitable. And let's be real: I'm just shocked I made it almost to the end before letting that one out...you're welcome...)

To sum it up: this adventure might not have been all that um...meditative...but it still somehow managed to be relaxing...and super-entertaining! Plus, there were a few of our compadres who wanted to come this time but were already booked, and you know what that means...we have to GO BACK! You know, just "for them"! Yaaayyyy to more hanging out with our hoofed homies!

The Big 1-6 for Son #2

Someone on Team WestEnders marked a milestone birthday this week--albeit with very little fanfare or special attention, per his express wishes. Sixteen years ago, Riley joined our squad in uncharacteristically dramatic fashion...by jumping the gun on his scheduled c-section, bursting onto the scene a day early, and making his entrance in the midst of a raging thunderstorm that had knocked out the hospital's electricity. (Fortunately, there were backup generators, because, you know, we aren't lunatic off-the-grid whatever they're called...Doomsday Preppers?…and our well-equipped suburban area had the resources to deal with this kind of emergency. Thus it was a bit more exciting than it strictly needed to be...but not life-threatening…just how we like our medical situations. Wait, what? That’s not it…never mind. Let’s move on, shall we? )

Anyway, these days, he prefers his celebrations to be much lower-key...almost to the point of non-existent. However, he did, appropriately, practice driving on his special day--still racking up hours towards the 60 he needs to obtain his full license. And to make it more entertaining (as well as very much on-brand, to be honest), we chose Dick's Sporting Goods as our destination, rather than just tootling around town aimlessly. 

In fact, this turned out to be productive as well, since Riley picked up some new boxing gloves (for the sparring bag we have as part of our Bonus Room's workout setup) and a jumprope (extra cardio training, I suppose). Since he had refused to tell us anything he wanted for his birthday this year, we counted these as gifts. (Hey, we've gotta work with what he gives us, with this kid, okay?) 

However, when we'd returned home and were chatting a little later, he remarked, "Can I show you a race I'm interested in running? If you pay my registration fee, I figure that could be a birthday present, right?" Well…sure, honey--that sounds like an awesome plan! So I signed him up for the Carrboro 10K happening in October, and called it…a wrap. (Sorry! Couldn’t help myself…)

There was one thing I wasn’t able to resist doing, though. You see, Riley decided somewhere along the way that he just…doesn’t like desserts anymore. (I know what you’re thinking: “But…how could he possibly be your child?” And I don’t have an answer for you, friends--it’s just a much a mystery to me as it is to you.) But he does have an all-consuming love for fruit…and right now he’s obsessed with cherries. So rather than the traditional cake option, I came up with the brainstorm of making him a cherry pie instead.

Granted, I did use a store-bought crust. (‘Cuz who needs that kind of…pastry…hassle? The short answer is “NOT ME, y’all!”) But I duplicated the canned filling by using frozen fruit (and in the process learned that it’s not only super-easy to recreate, but soooo much better; this, therefore, I vow to keep doing in the future) and concocted a crumble topping that I just kind of…made up as I went along (and which came out tasting absolutely divine…yay!).

Aaannnd…that’s about it for the anniversary-of-your-birth festivities. Riley honestly spent a quiet afternoon getting himself organized for the first day of school (which usually falls immediately after his bday). At one point he even wistfully declared, “I almost wish I had some homework to do…or something to read for class.” (Which seems like the worst present EVER, amiright? My first instinct was to tell him to lighten up, for crying out loud, and enjoy his last few hours of freedom before Junior year arrives and bites him in the…tush! But, that’s just Riley being Riley--my serious, scholarly, sage sixteen-er. This dude’s gonna be working on some big stuff this year--finding employment, operating a vehicle by himself, kicking the college prep-and-search shenanigans into high gear…all while showing 11^th grade who’s boss. Here’s to hanging on for a potentially wild ride…wheee! 

Settling in for Sophomore Year...

Derek's and my second day in South Carolina was all about getting him organized and ready to hit the ground running when it was time to be a student, a little bit later in the week. But first, since I didn't have to pick him up until the college-kid-reasonable hour of 10:00 a.m., I had time for a stroll--achieving the dual objectives of 1) getting a (hopefully) pleasant dose of the outside world, before the temperature started climbing toward its final (icky) destination of around the mid 90s and 2) moving my body and accumulating some of my daily steps, ahead of the 4-hours I'd be spending in the car on my tush while returning to Chapel Hill. 

I even had a plan: you see, when stretching my legs the previous night, I'd discovered that the hotel's street continues only a short way once you pass the building...and dead-ends at a park. As if this weren't enough of an exciting find...how could I possibly resist exploring a place where the very first thing you see is a warning sign, cautioning you to watch out for alligators? I mean, c'mon, OF COURSE I'm going to take that challenge, y'all! 

So, into the woods I walked, keeping my head on a swivel, remaining on high alert for reptile activity...oh yeah, and enjoying the unspoiled splendor, blah blah blah. No, no, I'm kidding (not about the gators, though, 'cuz I was totally psyched to see one)--it turned out to be an extensive, well-maintained network of paved paths, meandering along the Congaree River, under the shade of...I don't know, let's just say "lots of trees of indeterminate types". (Hey, I love the Great Outdoors as much as the next chick, but I never claimed to be John Muir, 'kay?) As it turns out, it was while peering through some of these verdant branches, toward the peacefully flowing water, that I first noticed...a freakin' colony of Big. Ass. Spiders. living just slightly off the trail, in their group of enormous webs. 

Now, I know you can't tell from the photo, but these suckers were easily 2-3 inches long...which is approximately...waaaayyyy too damn big for my comfort. The thing is, once you actually notice them, you become aware of the fact that there are so, soooo many of them....EVERYWHERE you look in the forest. 

At this point my charming "communing with nature" took a decided turn, since every breath of wind caused me to frantically duck and spastically wave my arms around, brushing imaginary webs off my head...and every rustle of leaves made me jump, as if a marauding alligator was about to burst out of the underbrush and chomp on me. (Yeaaahhh, I didn't think about it at the time, because clearly I was too busy fighting off invisible predators...but it occurs to me now that I must have looked completely deranged. Eh, no one reported me to the Park Police--as far as I know, at least--so it's all good, right? Also, in case you were wondering, the power of Google helped me identify the creepy crawlies as "Golden Silk Orbweavers"--which is much too lyrical a title for the beasts if you ask me, but whatever...) 

 

Anyway, although not perhaps as relaxing as one might originally have hoped...it counted as my workout for the day, so I'm gonna call that a win. (And obviously, I didn't get bitten...or devoured, so there's that...) After a shower and free Starbucks-to-go (the further perks of staying at a highbrow hotel for once), I headed back into town to pick up my wayward son. Our first joint venture of the morning involved unpacking and putting away his belongings, since as he put it the day before, "The disorganized state of my room is stressing me out, to be honest!" (One of the few times with this particular child that the "apple/tree" adage can be applied. Apparently tidiness can be inherited...or nurtured, I guess...that's a debate for another time, however...)

So we worked in tandem for a while, finding places for all of his stuff, and noting a couple of items we'd either forgotten, or hadn't realized he needed. (Shower curtain hooks, plastic tumblers for the kitchen, a refill on hand soap--it was admittedly somewhat of a weird list. Plus, yet another trip to a Big Box Store...and on the day when the entire rest of campus moves into their dorms....yaaayyy? More like ay yi yi...) 

Meanwhile, we got to chat a a bit more with several of the roommates, and learned that both of them are planning to attend Law School next year. Add this to the third guy, who's already in the graduate Pharmacy program, and you have...the potential for a reassuringly studious apartment (fingers crossed)! About the living space itself, I have few words to share...let's just say it's...old...er...kind of beat up...and, um..."none too clean", and leave it at that. To give you an idea--I, personally, wouldn't last 5 minutes there--but they're young dudes, so I'm sure they'll be fine.

 

Next, Derek and I moseyed forth in search of sustenance. Attempting to branch out from our usual go-to joints (Panera and Chipotle, both of which we'd patronized very recently), we chose to try someplace new for us, located right in the heart of the business district near the university. Sure Fire Taco and Tortilla Grill ended up being delicious and satisfying...so, whoo hoo for being able to add another restaurant to our repertoire!

Speaking of food, while we were enjoying our lunch, it suddenly occurred to Derek that--unless the apartment complex's shuttle buses began running right away on Move-In Day--he might not be able to get to campus and use his meal plan until classes start. (Because, you know, it's very on-brand for him to already be contemplating his NEXT eating opportunity while in the middle of his current one...) Thus we added one more stop: Publix supermarket, for some freezer items to get him through a couple of days if necessary.

Aaannnd...then we were officially done with all the things I could help him accomplish on this trip. (He hadn't heard back from his Academic Adviser about setting up an appointment to discuss changing his Chemistry class, so we couldn't address one of our planned agenda items. Therefore he'll just have to deal with it himself...like the adult he is. (Gulp....breathe and trust, breathe and trust...) My final request was for an "After" snapshot, once he finished arranging and decorating his bedroom on his own. And then...it was time for hugs, and goodbyes...and the obligatory embarrassing parental selfie, which I insisted upon, regardless of how ridiculous and juvenile it might appear to the Senior roommates. (Suck it up, buttercup--I'm your mother. Besides, I'm sure you'll all get over it...while probably laughing about it later. And I'm totally cool with you bonding over shared Mom Mortification. Go ahead and have at it...)

Last year, I got into my car after our farewells, barely managing to hold back tears...and proceeded to sob pretty much all the way back to NC. I'll tell you what: that brutal drive is burned into my permanent memory bank, for sure. This time, however, was just a bit easier. Don't get me wrong: I'm going to miss him like crazy. I remember that it was strange when he came home in May, adjusting to having him back in the house all the time. But we all quickly reverted to being a family of four again, and then it felt normal, as if he'd never left. And then, he was around for three whole months, during which--sure, things were different than when he was in High School--but we got used to having him around for conversation and activities, as part of the full-squad Team WestEnders, so to speak. 

And that's what I'll notice and mind the most, I think--not being able to talk to him every day, like we usually do when he's here. (Because I'm NOT that mother who checks in on a daily basis. Aren't you super-proud of my admirable restraint? I know I am...I probably deserve a damn medal, or something...) So we'll re-institute the Sunday phone calls, when we catch up on all of the weekly news...and count down to when he comes home for a visit, in October. See? Maybe I'm growing up, too! Sure, let's go with that...and lots of dark chocolate to get me through these early days. After all, that's healthy, right? Please say yes...and pass the good stuff!

Gallivanting with Gamecocks...Year 2

Remember a few short days ago, when I was lamenting how the Summer had entered into its boring stretch? Well, now I'm shaking my head, wondering what the HECK I was thinking. Perhaps I'd forgotten--or conveniently blocked out, more likely--that the time to deal with all of the unavoidable, inevitable pre-departure pandemonium that occurs, prior to taking Derek back to school for his Fall semester...was almost upon us.

I mean, I tried soooo hard to impose my hyper-organized, super-early-planning, Type A will upon the child...who's pretty much the exact opposite of me in all of the aforementioned categories...want to take a wild guess as to how that went? Yeeeahhh...I eventually was forced to give up, due to an extreme lack of cooperation and seeming disinterest in Figuring His S...tuff Out. Therefore, we'll take Last-Minute Chaos for the win, folks!

To give you an example, he'll be residing in an off-campus apartment this year for the first time, with people he doesn't know yet, which means many unknowns in terms of what he needs to bring to contribute to the living quarters. Of course, I thought of this ahead of time, discussed it with Derek, and suggested that he, you know, ASK the other dudes for input. And in response I got...crickets. Siiiighhhh--add "probable expensive and mobbed Target and/or Bed Bath & Beyond ordeal" to our move-in day festivities.

Then, approximately 18 hours before our agreed-upon pull-out-of-the-driveway-and-head-south estimate, he began rethinking one of his classes. Granted, we'd talked about it much earlier, in terms of how this particular course's late start time might impact both transportation to and from campus on his complex's shuttle bus, and traveling back to Chapel Hill for the shorter breaks, like Thanksgiving. But when he discovered that the last trip from the university to his neighborhood would take place each evening BEFORE the Chemistry session ended...that significantly mucked up the works, as they say.

In short, this meant he would be attempting to change his schedule, by speaking to an academic advisor ASAP--thereby making it much more useful for me to be around to act as his Parental Uber on Monday when the campus offices would be open, rather than Sunday when we wouldn't be able to accomplish any of our school-related goals anyway. Once we reached this decision, I tried to push back my hotel reservation by one measly day...only to find they didn't have any rooms available. Never fear, though, because it turned out in the most fortunate way imaginable.

You see, we've been Marriott Rewards members for as long as I can remember...but since we don't travel all that often or use hotels that much, I've never even bothered to check our points. However, since we'd now be joining the entire University of South Carolina student body in converging on Columbia at the same time, needless to say the lodging options--affordable ones, anyway--were pretty well booked. Except...I found a Courtyard Marriott, relatively near Derek's new abode...and had almost exactly the correct number of points needed to secure the room...for FREE. S-C-O-R-E! Bonus: when we arrived, both of our mouths dropped open in wonder...as it appears to be a brand new, sparkling clean, fairly posh property...maybe one of the nicest places I've ever stayed. (Yesssssssss....)

Anyway, I've gotten ahead of myself a little bit, so allow me to back up for a moment. Where were we? Oh yes: preparing to vacate Casa WestEnders. About a week ago, it came up in conversation that it would soon be time to go. With a thoughtful expression, Derek said, "Maybe I'd better start packing!" But about a half-second later he broke into a wide grin and proclaimed, "Nah...it'll take me about 15 minutes." The ridiculous thing is...he wasn't really even exaggerating. I swear--at the risk of perpetuating gender stereotypes--part of it must be because he's a guy. He simply....doesn't have that many belongings to take with him. So he made a small pile...and tucked it neatly into his closet until he was ready to transfer it to my car...the execution of which took, oh, about 10 minutes or so.

Meanwhile, the day before, we'd made the obligatory Target excursion, to replenish toiletries, purchase a couple of notebooks and such to start the first week of classes, at least, and pick up a few cleaning supplies we figured might come in handy for the new digs. (Earlier in the week, he'd asked me if I had some kind of list from last year, that we followed when collecting provisions...and if I'd happened to save it. Why, have you met me, son? Of course I kept the cheat sheet...for just such an occasion!)

And despite my best efforts to keep everyone on a schedule and get things taken care of ahead of deadline, Husband took him out anyway at the 11th hour to replace a pair of sneakers that were deemed too threadbare to make it through the semester. Even though, it should be noted, that I'd posed the question LAST MONTH and been told that his footgear was all fine, and he had no immediate needs in that area. When I called him on this, Derek shrugged and made the excuse, "Eh, that was then...a lot can happen in a couple of weeks with teenagers' shoes, ya know!" (Grr...boys!)

Eventually, everything seemed to be in order, and we were ready to hit the road. There was just one logistical item to arrange: Derek wanted to determine what time I preferred to leave in the morning. "Well, definitely not at the crack of dawn!" I told him reassuringly. "Okay, what does that actually mean?" he replied. "Um...about 10?" He snorted, "Mom...I'm a college student. That IS the crack of dawn!" Alrighty, then...may I suggest you set an alarm!

Cruel and unusual wake-up time notwithstanding, our farewell went smoothly. As a matter of fact, then entire 4-hour jaunt flew by without a hitch, for once. We cruised into SC pretty much at the expected time, and got to meet Derek's roommates when we dropped off his possessions. Since we changed our travel day, he'd missed the opportunity to pick up his key until Monday, but at least he was able to put his things in his room and get the lay of the land, so to speak. This was quite helpful, in fact, since it brought several issues to our attention: 1) the shared bathroom for him and one of his roommates lacked a shower curtain and 2) rather than the standard dorm-size Twin XL, his mattress is unexpectedly a Full...for which he has no bedding whatsoever that fits. (About that extra foray to Target?  Told ya so...adding "sheets" to the list now, so I don't forget...)

We didn't spend a whole lot of time with the other tenants, but they seem pleasant and personable. Notably, two are Seniors, and one is a grad student in the Pharmacy program--so not only is Derek the "baby" of the unit, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the others have some serious studying to do, rather than being a party bunch. However....I'm not gonna lie...it does make me worry about the extraordinarily easy access Derek will have to, say, beer...when living with three legal adults. Tell you what....for the time being, I'm just gonna operate under a flexible policy of "trust", mixed with a healthy dose of "ignorance is bliss" and see how that works. I'm sure this is a story that will develop over time...

So, yeah--then we did the shopping thing, which was much more successful, and less torturous, than I'd feared it would be. At that point, after all of our running around, it had become dinner time; we mutually decided that after a long day of toiling, fueled only by occasional light snacks, we'd more than earned ourselves a genuine meal. (Okay, Chipotle, but it totally counts!) Finally, I ferried Derek to his last stop of the evening: a buddy's apartment, where he would hang out and spend the night (until I retrieve him in the a.m., when the office opens at his complex, so he can get the key to his own home).

Whew! With that, I bid you buenas noches, and hit the hay. Tomorrow we'll continue our next installment of Adventures with the College Kid...after a (hopefully) peaceful night of sleep in my swanky rented palace. Hasta manana!

Midway through August...

Well, folks, here we are...at that unmistakable point in the Summer when I find myself beset with a case of the...blahs. Vacation time is over. The hot, humid weather lingers. And in just a few days, Team WestEnders--which has been chugging along with a full roster since early May--will shrink back down to 3, since I'll be driving the College Dude back to South Carolina for his Sophomore year. Yep, welcome to the August Doldrums...

As expected, then, things have been fairly quiet since we returned from our Vancouver adventure--but here's a brief roundup of our collective hijinks in the last few weeks:

--Derek finished up his rather strange employment experience with the home-improvement-giant-that-shall-not-be-named. While he was ostensibly hired to serve in their outdoor Lawn and Garden department, helping customers tote purchases to their cars and whatnot...he never once set foot there during his 2-ish months on the job. Or as he succinctly put it, "I never even touched a bag of mulch!" For a while, he managed to get himself placed on the "unloading crew" responsible for emptying the nightly delivery truck, which he enjoyed reasonably well. However, since he had apparently been "entered in their system" as an in-store employee, management kept pulling him to monitor the self-checkout station when they were short-handed (which was often). He'd received very little training for this task...and even less for the Customer Service Desk, where they also placed him on occasion...with no instruction or backup.

It was...hmm..."chaotic" would be a polite way to describe this company, in terms of their "organization"...or lack thereof. So it should come as no surprise that--even after several pay periods had already passed--the Powers That Be had no idea who he was or what he was doing there. His initial paperwork, submitted online immediately after he was hired, somehow got lost. And the direct deposit that we signed him up for never did take effect, meaning that he had to go in and pick up a paper check each time he was due some hard-earned wages. Needless to say, it was not a stellar part-time gig, and--except for picking up a few shifts during his Winter Break, if they can manage to hold onto his information, so we don't have to redo it all--he doesn't intend to return.

--Meanwhile, despite his dedicated and tireless efforts, Riley wasn't able to find a position and start working this Summer, as he'd hoped. However, at this point he'll be turning 16 soon, which opens up the pool of potential employers who will consider you, so he's looking forward to renewing his quest in a few weeks. He also applied and was selected to take part in a special camp at UNC, called Energy LEAP. During the week-long program, the participants learned about sustainable energy, completed hands-on design and problem-solving activities, and took excursions to local sites of interest. They visited a solar farm, a campus lab whose research focuses on formulating cheaper fuel cells for cars, and the university's community garden, where they dropped off the compost they'd been collecting from their homes all week. They collaborated to build wind and hydropower turbines. And they collected data about their household energy usage, and discussed ways to increase efficiency and utilize greener options.

Yeah, yeah--it sounds suspiciously like "school"...but it's right up Riley's alley, and he had a good time, so that's what counts, right? Besides, not only was the opportunity free for the students chosen...when they finished, they were each given a Visa giftcard...worth $150. So, it was kind of like having a temporary job, at least!

--Changing gears for the athletic update: we checked off our obligatory family 5K for the year by running the Bull Moon race, in Durham. It's the only one we do that takes place in the evening--so yes, it's warm and muggy...but we don't have to get up early, which is delightful. Unfortunately, I'm still battling the stupid foot issue, so my circuit was (relatively) slow, (incredibly) painful, and involved several episodes of walking, when the pounding simply became too much to take. Husband and Derek stuck together, as usual, and posted respectable times. And naturally, Riley finished 3rd...overall. I'm sure he earned a gift certificate for his achievement...but he refused to stick around and wait for the presentation. (Siiighhhh....)

A much gentler outing involved a hike with several buddies from the Sunday morning bootcamp gang. You see, it had come up over our regular post-workout breakfast at Whole Foods that it might be fun to do some other things together, outside of the hour we normally spend sweating in each others' company. Wasting no time, our Fearless Leader created the marvelous Field Trip Schedule of 2019...including many chances for shared shenanigans. So, this time a small group of ladies met at Occoneechee Mountain to tromp through the woods, chat, and commune with nature for a couple of hours on a Saturday, for a change. Bonus: we got a good bit of exercise...and no burpees! (Yaaaayyyy!)

Aaannnd...that about covers the news for now. Like I said, it's been pleasantly calm and peaceful of late. So if you'll excuse me, I think I either need to go rustle up some iced tea and maybe a plate of nice, cold fruit...or find some trouble to get into, before I slide into boredom. I'll report back when I've figured it out! Stay tuned...

When entertainment is...anything but!

My role as WestEnders Household Manager naturally encompasses many run-of-the-mill duties that must routinely be addressed, in order to keep thing running as smoothly as possible. Most of these I don't particularly mind: shopping for groceries and other sundries, chauffeuring kids to appointments and leisure activities, scheduling necessary maintenance or repairs, etc. However, there's one task that I loathe beyond all reason...as does almost everyone, I'm sure...and that is the dreaded "calling customer service". (Pause for the unavoidable shudder of horror. Everybody okay? Let's move on...)

It's bad enough when something breaks, or otherwise goes wrong, and you have to utilize the toll-free number to contact a representative--after waiting on hold for an indeterminate amount of time listening to insipid music and those obnoxious repeated messages that "your call is very important to us". But what causes my blood to boil even harder is when you're forced to get in touch with, say, your cable provider, once a year when your temporary, grudgingly offered discounts "expire", because they use this as a convenient excuse to justify immediately jacking up your already ridiculous bill by $20 or more. You can either sit back and passively accept and ignore this (obviously not even a viable alternative for me, or I wouldn't be having this rant, yeah?), or you have two clear courses of action: beg them to magically locate some other deductions, or threaten to dump them, unless they offer a new deal.

Can you tell I've done this a few times? And that I'm totally freakin' fed-up with this nonsense? As if I needed additional fuel for my righteous fire, I've been disgruntled with our service for a while, anyway. You see, we're stuck with a plan that contains a stupid number of channels--most of which are useless (HSN, along with the 10 other buy-stuff-you-don't-need slots, I'm looking at you) or uninteresting to us (most of the 24-hour news-reporting blocks), that we have to scroll through to get to the handful of stations we actually enjoy--simply because it's the smallest option that still includes the sports required by the Male Trio. So to sum up my dissatisfaction: cable has come to mean too much unnecessary filler material in the program guide, coupled with too few appealing choices...all for a distasteful price.

So I did what any modern-day nerd would...researched the heck out of how to cut ties with the Big-C. And I've gotta tell ya, folks...it was an eye-opening experience for this Gen-Xer. I admit it was slow going at first, as I educated myself on what else was out there--but it became apparent fairly quickly that the only real solution lay in the mystical, murky realm known as "The Land of Streaming". Having established that, the next logical step was to figure out which platforms offered the networks we considered "non-negotiable"; as a special sticking-point, these included our local ABC/NBC/CBS/Fox/CW affiliates, which we weren't willing to lose. Aaaannnd...that actually made it easier, because it turned out that there was exactly ONE provider meeting those criteria...making the winner: Hulu with Live TV.

Whew! Sounds like the hard part was over, right? Hahahahaha! Oh, I wish...you see, Phase 2 of the process--the problem-solving portion--was just beginning. I already suspected that we'd have to purchase a Wi-Fi booster/extender to make this work properly, since our Bonus Room, where the second television resides, has always been a dead spot in the house, for reasons unknown to us. Thus I purchased one...and on the day it arrived, breezily announced to Tech Support--I mean "the children"--that I would be out for a while (at a pool party--yay, me for having such a good excuse to avoid what was almost certain to be an onerous chore!) and that I'd super-appreciate it if they'd attempt to set up the device in my absence. I was honestly...kind of kidding? Yet when I arrived back home after my delightful social event, they reported struggling mightily, but eventually (after much time and multiple attempts) succeeding in getting it connected and humming along.

Alrighty, then...that was one barrier toppled. Next up: now that the wireless signal reached the spot where the spare TV sits, we had to deal with the fact that the unit itself pre-dated the "smart appliance" era...and therefore couldn't support the kind of fancy newfangled subscription we were planning to get. Translation: time for an upgrade (and before you rush to deem this as "wasteful and unnecessary", let me assure you that I checked, and we're talking about a 9-year old item....which must be like, I don't know, 100 in electronic years. So trust me when I tell you that everything about the new set is a vast improvement over the old model.) Trip to Target: check.

And then....siiighhhh...I discovered by carefully perusing Hulu's website that even our more recently-acquired television (2015, for crying out loud!) missed the range of "instantly streaming-ready"...by one lousy production year. At this point I threw up my hands in...not defeat, exactly...but rather, acknowledgement of the fact that I could use some professional advice. Happily, my conversation with a Hulu rep yielded the information necessary to move forward--that is, just as soon as I ordered the Amazon Fire Stick to bring TV1 up to snuff. So, it arrived, I plugged it in and configured it, blah blah blah...NOW were we ready to get this party started?

The  answer was (drum roll) YES! But first, I called a family meeting to confirm that everyone was fully briefed and (reasonably) on-board. Then I set up an account, logged in, registered for a 7-day free trial, and instructed the guys to give it a real test over the next week, so we could decide whether to completely commit--and ditch our cable woes.

So far, the response has been pretty much what I expected. Husband (who is the first to frankly and adamantly declare that he "fears change") is wary of it and will probably avoid learning to use the new system for as long as possible...until he corners me one day to request an in-depth tutorial, with repeated demonstrations, a Q&A session, and possibly written guidelines, allowing him to feel comfortable navigating it on his own. Derek's reaction was a typical shrug and "Eh, I'll be away at school, so I don't really care." Riley stated that he's also indifferent, since he doesn't watch that much TV...but he did hasten to add that as long as we still get HGTV, Food Network, and Cooking Channel, he'll be fine. (Seriously...he records installments of Guy's Grocery Games; Man, Fire, Food; and Carnival Eats to peruse during his downtime. To accommodate him, I incorporated this into our package, and even paid a small fee so we'd get both of the eating-related channels. Hey, you have to encourage your kid's wholesome hobbies, right? Yep, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it...)

Finally, we encountered one more tiny glitch (so far, at least)...related to our actual Internet. With the added drag from streaming live video, the speed slowed down significantly enough to disrupt Husband's work...which can't happen, since he telecommutes and has to, you know, "do his job" and whatnot. Similarly, both he and Derek noted that during sporting events, the action seemed to lag a bit, making the picture choppy and therefore less-than-ideal. But never fear--I (hopefully) came up with an answer to that issue as well. I learned by checking our billing details--and the menu of available technology--that our ISP has enabled a data-speed increase, sometime in the past year since I last yelled at--ahem..."communicated with"--them. With a couple of clicks, I agreed to a very small cost increase...for a potentially 3x faster web-browsing, movie-viewing, game playing...oh yeah, and "employment" experience.

Ya know, I'm exhausted just relaying all this complicated 21st century techno-mumbo-jumbo. Tell you what...Imma go sit down, fire up Hulu or Amazon Prime Video, and binge some episodes of a funny show. Please join me in keeping your fingers crossed that all this...stuff...continues to behave. Also stay tuned because the next thing you hear might be the sweet sound of the official cord cutting when I phone Virtual-Monopoly-Cable and officially BREAK UP with them. Countdown commences....NOW!