Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte

Haiku: Diving Into the Twenty-First Century

One long month ago
Made transition to smartphone
And got Uber app

Wanting new freedom
Unsure how to apply it
I kept self earth-bound.

Then like a diver
Hesitating on high board
Leapt up and took plunge.

Tapped Uber icon
Expected “George” to drive me
But where did he go?

Finally found him
“Arrived” parked one street over
I learned a lesson

Uber depends on
Basic piece of equipment
A good GPS


Writing 101- Resetting

Starting over is basic to solving computer problems. I restart my computer to clear confused loops. When my TV stops streaming a movie I unplug router and modem and count to fifteen. My printer can’t talk to my computer. Unplugging clears the way. I wish we could re-set our world.


Truth or Dare: Living Larger

What do I dare? Why my restless soul?
True I’ve made a new home, new friends. Life is good.
But I want to write a new script – to juxtapose.
I want some prose mixed with my poetic bent.
I want to tackle thorny challenges strewn on my path.
I want my Internet to work. And movies to stream.

I want to live larger. Paint my own canvas abstract and a little wild.
I want to throw caution to the winds at times and not worry about falling down.
(Well, there I think I’ll draw a line. I want to stick around.)
Yesterday a newspaper ad for a Smart TV screamed “Go for it”. I did.
It will arrive this week along with Geek Squad to hook things up.
Next week I’ll banish my old Internet provider, etc., and try U-Verse AT&T.


Language Lessons

The other day at a family event I asked my fifteen year old grandson Bobby if he wanted to get together for lunch the following week. He said, “Sure. Tuesday’s good. I’ll give you a call.” Tuesday came but no phone call, though I waited at home for one most of the day. I left the ball in his hands thinking that was an appropriate response to respect his growing independence. (Or maybe my not calling him was leftover from all the stilted phone calls I attempted with my grandchildren when I lived in a different city.)

More of the story came to light later in the week when I was talking to my son on the phone about something else. He told me that on Tuesday Bobby had tried to call me on my cell phone a couple of times and even left me a message, but I never responded. He and his brother James were worried that “something had happened to Grandma” when Bobby couldn’t reach me. My son assured them that I was fine. “Grandma keeps her cell phone off and only uses it when she is away from home in case of an emergency.” My son suggested that I call Bobby on his family’s land line about our lunch date. He planned to give Bobby a message to call me on my land line when he got home later in the afternoon.

I was relieved to learn how Bobby’s and my individual choice of communication was the culprit in our failure to connect. We were speaking different languages. More importantly I learned something endearing about my grandson. He did not forget our conversation about lunch. And when he didn’t reach me he was concerned that something had happened to me. It is great to know that he is so dependable and responsible But that is not the end of the story. My lesson was just beginning.

I waited until evening for Bobby to call me. When he hadn’t I decided I would text him since I know that is his preferred mode of communication. The problem was I had only sent two or three texts in my life. I messed around with my cell phone – no frills and on a basic Senior $29.99-a-month plan, texting extra. Finally I managed a mistake-riddled message asking him to call me on my land line and successfully sent it. He texted back, “No problem.” I was elated!

The next day when he still hadn’t called I texted him again, briefly asking which day next week was good for him (I was learning that texting requires few words.) He texted back his choice of days. I replied with a few words giving instructions where to meet me, what time, and where he could safely leave his bicycle. He responded “Alright.” Bingo! Communication completed.