I listed a first generation iPhone for sale on eBay today. I’d been keeping it for years. Nine years, in fact. Nine years and one month — since the day that Pfundi died. It was his.
I remember him being excited to have it. While I don’t remember the day he got it, I do remember being at Kennywood and holding it for him while he went on one of the water rides. He was so worried about it. I though it was neat, though I didn’t really know what to DO with it. What can I say, it was new to a lot of us.
Since it came into my possession, I transferred the photos off of it. I’d charge it every so often to make sure it still worked. It wasn’t really usable, though. It sat long enough for it to become collectible; to have someone else want it.
While I appreciated it, I didn’t need to collect it.
I listed it around 14:30. By 18:30 it was sold.
Feeling a little mixed up about losing possession of it on the drive home from work, I looked at the sky over the river. It was about 90 minutes after a big storm came through and the sky was mostly clear, save for four clouds. Two were small and circular. In between them, another small one, slightly lower. Beneath those three, one shaped like the letter D tipped to the right and slightly elongated.
A big grin in the sky. A big grin in the sky as I was wondering if I did the right thing by selling Pfundi’s iPhone. My guess is that he’s happy it will now be in the hands of someone who will adore it as much as he did.
Remington has been an angel for over six years. Today, in a side pocket of an old carrier, I found a big tuft of his fur. Today, I got to do something that i’d wished for many, many times. Today, I got to feel his fur again when I never thought I would.
It’s a FB post in regard to a comment by a person whose mother does not accept them for who they are.
“I am your mother now. I love you and am proud of you*. Just wait until you meet your sister, my small dog who is also overjoyed that you exist.
“(*I mean. Probably. I don’t know you. Maybe you’re terrible. But you’re not terrible because you’re queer, and it’s really important that you remember this.)”
…was taken out of the window of Delta flight somethingorother at 6:01am on September 17 as we approached Britain and caught up to the sunrise.
I don’t recall how long I’d had the Mini before there was a recall for an airbag or something in the steering wheel/steering column. It was long enough to know where things were located and how they worked. I don’t even recall what the recall was, only that when it was completed, I had a new stem to control the wipers, and that new stem didn’t have the intermittent function. The garage told me of the stem replacement and nothing regarding function, so I had no reason to think otherwise.
The wiper stem used to work as such: One click down for one wipe, one click up for intermittent, up another click for on slow, and up one more for on fast. Turn the rotating bit towards the driver for squirting the back window; turn the rotating bit away from the driver to turn the rear wiper on. There was nothing at the very end of the stem, unlike the one on the left-hand side. That one had a select/confirm button for the menus. One other important bit to know is that when sitting in the car, the width of the steering wheel blocked the last half inch of the stems from my view.
Fast forward a few years. I was in the gym parking lot getting ready to go in when I dropped my membership card. It fell in the awkward spot between seat and console. In trying to reach it, I twisted myself in a manner that allowed me to see the end of the right-hand side stem – the one that had been replace years ago. On the end was a button. And in that instant, I knew where my intermittent wiper function was.