So, here's a video of the latest on Edgar and Lenore. Actually, there are two different pairs of house finches hanging around the feeder these days. I'll bet they're related to each other. I know we had at least one finch nest in the yard last summer, so it's reasonable to imagine that more than one bird from the same clutch might return here to breed. "Hey, that Link yard was a pretty cool place to fledge. Lots of trees, a feeder, a stream. Let's move there and start a brood. You'll love it Lenore, I promise." We've found more than one humming bird nest tucked in the trees over the years. (Tiny, about the size of two golf balls, stacked.) And there was that abandoned finch nest the painters cleaned out last spring. I can understand the draw. Greg and I came back to the mountains to raise our kids. Come June, the meadowlarks will begin to advertise it over and over, "Al-pine is a pretty little town!" I'm looking forward to June.
It's been a long day. I've been battling with DirecTV, trying to get them to agree that my television isn't getting the signals it needs to let us watch TV and that my HD receiver really does need to be replaced. I had another repairman (repairperson? well, today's was a man) here today for an hour and a half. He crawled around on the roof for a while--everything was good up there--and when he left, the TV was finally working. But of course, tonight it isn't. Again. So I was back on the phone with Tech Support for another hour (not counting hold time). Normally, no TV wouldn't be a big deal, but my eye isn't up to reading and Greg is so stressed, a little televised diversion would have been a welcome relief tonight. (It also would have been kinda fun to watch the final episode of ER. Anyone catch it?) Oh well. It's just TV. I mean, really. Just TV.
But, sheeeez! I've let my ego turn this into one of those "It's the Principle of the Thing!" situations. We've been having the same problems over and over for the last four months . . . we wait on hold and then do their phone assisted trouble shooting, and I crawl around in the dust behind the unit with the phone taco-ed between my shoulder and my ear and a flashlight in my mouth. I block out days to wait for repair service calls. And we continue to pay our bill . . . we even pay an added monthly 'insurance' charge for cryin' out loud . . . you'd think we'd have working service after four months of this hoopla. They certainly aren't giving us any kind of break on our monthly service fees, even while we can't watch TV. And, or course, it's not really anyone's fault. At least not anyone I've talked to or worked with. They're just employees. What can they do? Welcome to the 21st century. When things are good, they're very, very good, and when they're bad they're awful.
I'm certainly pleasant today, aren't I? Think I'll go to bed. Let's see what kind of signal my dreams are receiving.