Tuesday, July 25, 2017
Fabulous App and the Busstop Buddy
My bus stop buddy Margaret and her husband Phil are moving to 35th, as they've bought a house for their growing family. I'll miss the conversations, especially on sustainability projects run by the nonprofit she works at. But good luck to them at their new location, and may the family flourish!
At our most recent chat, she reminded me of an app I was trying ("Habitica") that supported developing useful habits by making a game of it. Using the game mechanic of frequent small challenge and rewards, and progressively more difficult, less frequent but larger rewards, felt like a good idea. I played with Habitica for a while but quietly dropped it during one of my periodic cellphone purges, because I had begun to regard it as a chore. If I chose small daily tasks, it was not fun to tick them off and if I chose large infrequent tasks, the app didn't help.
Margaret suggested the app "Fabulous" as a more sophisticated approach; she'd tried it for a few days and liked it. I promptly downloaded it and fired it up. It appears to be preloaded with good habits that it presents over time, freeing me from the work of writing tasks. I'll give it a try - I can always use self-improvement!
Sunday, July 23, 2017
Happy Birthday Grill
Happy birthday to me!
My birthday gift was a grill which was a double gift since I had to assemble it. It was a great practical puzzle, with cryptic directions and ultimately a single solution achieved only after solving many micro puzzles. My prize is the capacity to grill dinner + 4 mysteriously leftover bolts.
One of the nice things about this puzzle, er I mean grill, is that the little parts come on a blister pack, so you can see easily what's what - very organized! |
Sunday: Good Bye To All That
Sunday Kris came and took several items of furniture for which I had no use and she had attachment: The fancy Chinese cabinet (converted into TV stand by owners before us), the rice chest (with WW2 Chinese newspaper stuck to the bottom, and above all the vintage chaise longue from a Colorado whorehouse of the 19th century. She didn't offer any money and didn't bring the promised baked goods. I'm not really surprised.
The only thing left here to which she may have a moral claim is the metal stove in the basement which had with great fanfare been brought over from eastern Washington as a memento of a favored aunt, and the red maple from Larry and Ginger. I texted her, giving them a year which is too generous and if the stove is in the way ... the problem is that it's hard for me to discard things.
Afterward, I texted what I hope will be our last communication:
"Now that I have gifted you with several thousand dollars worth of vintage furniture, all of which I have the legal right to sell, I think everything to which you might have any attachment is off this property except possibly the wood stove and the maple tree. I would like them gone by the end of the year.
I wish you well in your new house and I offer a word of advice.
As you know, our relationship fell apart because of the mutual mental or emotional issues that we have. On my part depression and the hoarding instinct that came from being raised in abject poverty lead to your feeling repelled by me, and I understand that. This is not something that you were ever able to articulate and that is a problem that can poison any future relationship you may have: your refusal to articulate issues while they are still small enough to be dealt with. Your preference for holding grudges until you can release them with great drama has not served you well, and is a threat to any future relationship.
You may reject this advice, but keep in mind I have no motivation to lead you astray at this point.
The other word of advice is to do something about your alcoholism. At one time you said your mother asked if she had taught you to get divorced and you said no, but in fact the answer is yes. Your bio dad died of his alcoholism, and your mother taught you that drinking heavily is simply the way to be. No doubt she learned that from her father, and you will note that she is completely alienated from her family for no reason that makes any sense except emotional issues that she has.
I have little doubt that you will [not] accept this advice because that's the nature of the disease, but I have given it and that's all I can do.
Some alcoholics live to a great age, others go like Joe my brother and like your father. If you value your current or future relationships you should do something about it.
That's all the advice I have for you. I don't think we have anything else to talk about.
The only thing left here to which she may have a moral claim is the metal stove in the basement which had with great fanfare been brought over from eastern Washington as a memento of a favored aunt, and the red maple from Larry and Ginger. I texted her, giving them a year which is too generous and if the stove is in the way ... the problem is that it's hard for me to discard things.
Afterward, I texted what I hope will be our last communication:
"Now that I have gifted you with several thousand dollars worth of vintage furniture, all of which I have the legal right to sell, I think everything to which you might have any attachment is off this property except possibly the wood stove and the maple tree. I would like them gone by the end of the year.
I wish you well in your new house and I offer a word of advice.
As you know, our relationship fell apart because of the mutual mental or emotional issues that we have. On my part depression and the hoarding instinct that came from being raised in abject poverty lead to your feeling repelled by me, and I understand that. This is not something that you were ever able to articulate and that is a problem that can poison any future relationship you may have: your refusal to articulate issues while they are still small enough to be dealt with. Your preference for holding grudges until you can release them with great drama has not served you well, and is a threat to any future relationship.
You may reject this advice, but keep in mind I have no motivation to lead you astray at this point.
The other word of advice is to do something about your alcoholism. At one time you said your mother asked if she had taught you to get divorced and you said no, but in fact the answer is yes. Your bio dad died of his alcoholism, and your mother taught you that drinking heavily is simply the way to be. No doubt she learned that from her father, and you will note that she is completely alienated from her family for no reason that makes any sense except emotional issues that she has.
I have little doubt that you will [not] accept this advice because that's the nature of the disease, but I have given it and that's all I can do.
Some alcoholics live to a great age, others go like Joe my brother and like your father. If you value your current or future relationships you should do something about it.
That's all the advice I have for you. I don't think we have anything else to talk about.
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