Buying a New Phone is not for Sissies
On January 7, 2024 by Speranza
So here’s the thing – for some time now it’s been clear that my current phone of about 4 years is lurching towards its cellular Valhalla. I have to clear the cache hourly, and there is a huge stutter involved in simply going from one function to another. It’s becoming ridiculous even for me and I will put up with a lot in order to avoid replacing my phone. But recently, even an overnight charge fades away quickly so I know in my heart it’s time.
All this sounds a bit melodramatic, doesn’t it, and even a bit princess-like, (Oh-poor-me-must-I-really-have-to-bother-myself-getting-a-new-cell-phone!) but not only do I loathe the process and how it makes me feel (explanation of this to follow) I am also haunted by the environmental impact (which you can see here)
As a result, that whole procrastination thing is a snap!
Old Yeller
On March 29, 2023 by Speranza
I pride myself on being a decisive person but because I am also a frugal one, I cannot abide expensive mistakes. As I embark on another painting adventure (a bathroom, this time) I do not want to get the colour wrong particularly when I’ll be using a top price paint like Benjamin Moore. (Careful readers may recall my previous, joyous renovation recounted here not long ago).
I was especially rattled because this particular bathroom has remained a poisonous Cough Drop Yellow for many years instead of the pale Shortbread I had in mind. But I just couldn’t face the stress of tackling it again. (And take note, this heinous colour was from a cheap and unpleasant paint store that just happened to be closer. Never again).
The Guest House by Rumi
On March 7, 2023 by Speranza
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
From The Archives – Crimson & Clover
On February 27, 2023 by Speranza
I thought you might enjoy a wee sampling from the Speranza Now Archives, way back to April 2018! Enjoy …
Before and after the Easter holidays, I traditionally take a few days off to complete projects I have been meaning to return to (I’m looking at you, streamlined recipe binders) no longer flinging ragged sheets everywhere as I squeeze your gaping three rings closed with an arthritic, crocodilian snap.
But in-between bursts of energy like this, The General and I have shut the doors against the snow and wind and taken to wandering around with cups of scented tea and wedges of sticky Baklava, talking for hours about topics as diverse as Sidney Bechet, British trade unionists (to be fair, we were considering The Perfect Dog Name for a dog we do not have – yet) and soon to be perused Roberto Bolaño, the poet that Patty Smith mentions so often in M Train.
In short, it’s my idea of bliss.