A free way to get rid of ads on Youtube

A while back, I somehow found out there is a browser that lets you keep all your browsing private:  DuckDuckGo.  I tried it for awhile and it does work well for that; I no longer saw ads on Facebook that are based on what I had just looked at on the Internet.  

My only problem, which some would consider minor, is that when using DuckDuckGo, if I want to answer someone's comment on my blog, I can't sign in to my Google account.  I can sign into my blog to post a new entry, but in the comment section I can only be anonymous; it won't let me sign in to Google.  Of course I could just do as others do:  I could say what I had to say and then tell them "this is Donna, and this is my blog".  But I'd rather not.  

On another note, I sure do wish that those who have to post as anonymous would leave their name in the comment so I'd know who was visiting me.  But I digress.

One feature of DuckDuckGo I really like is that it lets me watch Youtube without the commercials.  That is a great feature, so I use Google most of the time but use DuckDuckGo for Youtube.  I know I'm doing it backwards, but it seems as though once I get on Chrome, I forget all about the other browser.  

I'm still intend to try and just use Chrome for my blog only.  Wish me luck, because my brain is getting tired in my old age.

Unpleasant Saturday

Saturday morning we already knew we had another heat wave to live through for a few days, but we're used to it.  The sun was shining, but I kept hearing distant thunder.  Around 8 o'clock or so, there came a crack of lightning that was obviously very close; Gabe jumped down from the couch and looked from me to Cliff, as though he thought we could control such things.  It was just that one sizzling, ear-bursting strike of lightning, then nothing but distant thunder again.  We got about four-tenths of an inch of rain, par for the course these days.

We also got a day with no running water.  That lightning had struck a big tree and ruined the pump at the bottom of a very deep well (more that a hundred feet), leaving Woodhaven Acres with two homes that had no way to bathe, wash dishes, or flush the commode.  The pump had to be pulled out, and then the grandson went to Feldman's in Blue Springs to buy a new pump for the well.  He is blessed to have that one friend he can count on to help him in the worst situations, things like pulling pumps, finding runaway cows that jump the fence, or digging septic tanks; and the two of them spent the day trying to get that pump to work, with Cliff doing the best he could to help them in spite of his age.  

The pump was a little different than what we have had in the past, and some time after noon, the boys gave up and Arick went and traded it for one that had the same kind of wiring as our old one:  They had to pull the pump again, but this time they had success, although it was getting dark when they finished.  I'm sure if you did a search of my blog for the word "pump", you would see other times we've had to buy pumps.  We've lived here fifty years, and messing around with all that mess is one of our worst nightmares.  At one time the original well started giving us sand with our water, and the only thing you can do for that is to have another well driven.  Expensive indeed!  

Cliff thinks the tree that was hit will likely die.  It really doesn't look that bad to me, but there's a place near the ground where the bark is gone and the dirt around the tree shows that the big tree actually moved in the ground.  A squirrel gave his life simply by being in the wrong tree.  I hope it's one of the squirrels that picked all my pears off the tree when they were still green!

So, life goes on, and we'll survive.  

Sleeping problems

I remember the nights when I got eight hours of sleep.  Of course there were times when I would have something on my mind, and tossed and turned half the night, but those were seldom.  I'm not sure when that changed, but I do recall saying to Cliff when I went back to work at Kohls that apparently God must be telling me that I only needed six hours of sleep, because it had become the norm.  That would have been in the year 2000.  Actually, I did pretty well with six hours.

Old age has made me have to get up many times nightly, so my problem now is getting back to sleep.  

However!!!  I'm not so sure this fitbit watch is so accurate.  I am very sure I wasn't awake for an hour and twenty-two minutes.  Here's why:  Quite some time ago I went on a Google quest to find something I could listen to that would help me sleep, or at least give me something to listen to so it wouldn't be so boring when I can't sleep.  I found many, many podcasts that are supposed to work for that problem, and finally chose NothingMuchHappens.com.  It's free, and the stories are boring.  It works for me at least 3/4 of the time.

Since Cliff sleeps in a chair in the living room and can't hear anything when he takes his Cochlear implant processor off for the night, I could hold a party in the bedroom with babies crying and Green Day singing full-blast.  No worries there.  So that's a plus.  There's no way any sounds will wake him.

At first I was using an Alexa device to listen to the stories, but I've lost a little bit of hearing these days; so I'd tell Alexa "louder" and then it was sort of hard for me to understand the words.  So I'm now taking the iPad to bed with me.  I put it on Cliff's pillow, start the story, and when it's over (long after I'm asleep) it shuts off.  Each time my bladder wakes me up and I come back to bed, I wake up the iPad and start the story again.  

Many nights, I never hear the first line of the story:  By the time Kathryn Nicolai, the author and teller of the stories, gets done telling her name, what she does, which charity they are giving to this week, and telling me to inhale a deep breath through my nose and then breathe it out of my mouth (twice), I often don't hear the title.  

I'd say it works for me about 75% of the nights.  I did have two nights this week when I only got 5 hours of sleep, so one of those nights I took one-half of a teeny-tiny Unisom pill.  If I take the whole pill I am groggy the rest of the day.

I sure do appreciate finding something that seems to help.

Tomatoes? Bah Humbug!

I'm ready to give up on the garden.  We had a month of great tomatoes, but that's over now and blight wins.  I love having green beans anytime I want them, but to keep them coming I have to water them, and I so tired of doing that.  On the bright side, okra pods have finally started showing up.  But I'm tired of doing so much work without much reward.  And really, how much fried okra should we eat?  Cliff is very happy that he's lost a lot of his belly lately.  

Cliff and I noticed that West Wing was streaming on Max a couple weeks ago, so we are watching it for the third time.  I have never tired of that show; it's my all-time favorite.  I love every person in the superb cast, and it feels like the real thing!  Also, we have learned a lot about politics just by watching West Wing.

Also, we've watched two preseason Chiefs games, and they have some amazing new players.  Our quarterback Patrick Mahomes only gets better as time goes by.  The team is hoping to win another Superbowl, but of course hoping doesn't necessarily do the job.  I'm anxious for the regular season to get here September 5.

Travis Kelsey is still dating Taylor Swift, and there's a rumor she will be spending some time in Kansas City with him until mid-October.  That's neither here or there in my case, but I'll bet some swifties will be trying to spot her if she's around.

I watched some of the convention last night, and then this morning I checked CNN to find out how many lies were told the first night.  That's one thing I appreciate about CNN:  They report the lies on both sides!  It's no secret that all politicians lie, or will at least stretch the truth until it breaks.

I try to spend at least half an hour every evening sitting in a chair in the goat pen.  I take the girls some sort of treat, so they are always glad to see me:  A handful of green beans, or graham crackers given a small piece at a time does the job.  Usually at some point the daughter, Louise, wants in my lap.  Even Thelma tries, but she is heavier and larger and I don't have room for her on my lap.  It's sort of peaceful out there, with Blue the cat, Gabe the dog, and the goats hanging around wanting to be petted.

And that's about it, except that Cora will be here sometime today.  School starts for her next week and we won't be seeing her so much then.  She has spent a lot of time "horsing around" this summer.  When she's on a horse, that's her happy place.

Things I wonder about

I can tell November is coming; everybody is posting memes on Facebook that tell us all the reasons why we should vote for the person they want as President.  Up to now, at least, it's mostly the same people of the same persuasion.  These days nobody even tries to argue with them because they know what happens.

It's sort of like the signs people put in their yards telling you who they are voting for.

Has it ever occurred to them that the more they do such things, the less it works?  How many people have you seen who ever stopped to comment on your facebook page, "Oh, thank goodness!  You have convinced me to change who I vote for!  Thanks so much for putting that meme showing Jesus with his hand holding your candidate's hand!"  Or, "Hey, that sign in your yard has convinced me to change my ways!  I'm a new person now."

When somebody gets in my face trying to make me change my mind about ANYTHING, not only my politics, it just makes me more determined to not let somebody force me to do it.  

One reason I like having a blog is that once in a while, I can actually tell someone exactly how I feel.

However... to each his/her own.

Something I read in the Kansas City Star this morning

 In a way, this is about politics, but don't worry:  There is no lambasting about any of the people who are running on either side.  It will probably never happen, but I think it would be a good idea.

COUNTERPOINT | The party’s over for political conventions

Talk about unintended consequences. Democrats may not know it, but they may have just sounded the death knell for national political conventions.

When Vice President Kamala Harris received her party’s presidential nomination via a “virtual roll call” on August 6 - 13 days before the Democratic National Convention was scheduled to begin - it exposed the needlessness of the elaborate and grossly expensive quadrennial tradition.

There’s just no escaping reality any longer. The emperor has no clothes. The event is now as outdated as powdered wigs and the town crier.

When the first national political convention was held in the United States, it served a need. Some 155 delegates from 18 of the then-24 states met in a large saloon in Baltimore on Dec. 13, 1831, and unanimously made Henry Clay the National Republican presidential candidate in the following year’s contest. (Spoiler alert: He lost.) Though the candidate was defeated, a winning tradition had been born.

For more than a century, a party’s nominee was chosen at the convention. Highly important but often shunted off second- fiddle status was the adoption of the platform during that gathering. It’s a statement of what the party stands for and what it intends to do in office.

Over time, things changed. Though state presidential primaries had been held since the early 1900s, they were often little more than political beauty contests with little practical effect.

However, they came into their own in 1960 when John F. Kennedy used the primary route to demonstrate to the city bosses who controlled the Democratic Party machinery at the time that his Catholicism was not an obstacle to winning in November.

Then, a populist reform wave in the early 1970s shifted power from the smoke-filled rooms of convention lore to the primary and caucus system. When little-known former Georgia Gov. Jimmy Carter used it as a path to emerge out of nowhere and secure the Democratic nomination in 1976, the paradigm was shifted once and for all. Whoever won enough pledged delegates via those early contests would clinch the nomination.

From then on, conventions became little more than coronation ceremonies, ratifying the decision voters had made earlier at the primary polls.

Another trend began emerging. Presidential nominees on both sides started ignoring their party’s platform. Though that document may have said X, if the candidate believed Y, he just shrugged and went on his merry way down the campaign trail. Party platforms, once lengthy detailed documents, shrank into political Happy Meals. Soon, they became irrelevant to politicians, pundits and the public.

The final flicker of suspense was snuffed out once nominees began announcing their running mate days and sometimes weeks before the convention started. (Trump’s selection of JD Vance as the GOP convention opened in July is a rare exception.)

With the last bit of drama snatched away, what’s left? A four- day infomercial where a mélange of Washington luminaries, Hollywood types, and just plain folks are herded on and off the stage in a mashup resembling a political version of “America’s Got Talent.”

However, there is the balloon drop. Democrats and Republicans alike stubbornly cling to that tradition. They want to see their ticket appear together, arms hoisted overhead in unity, waving with their families at their side as a cascade of colored balloons slowly descends.

So, what’s the price tag for this orgy of partisan excess? Open Secrets estimates it took $65.7 million to throw the GOP’s big bash in Milwaukee last month. When all the bills are tallied, the larger Democratic pow-wow in the more expensive Chicago could likely be even higher.

And what does all that money get? A few seconds of balloons dropping on network TV.

Here’s a thought: Why not pull the plug on this time and money waster? Focus on a single National Campaign Kickoff Day to launch the official start of the fall campaign instead. Hold it just after Labor Day when summer vacations are over, the kiddies are back in school, and Americans are finally getting serious about the election. It could even be a multi-city event with the nominee in one place, the running mate in another, and various other big-name worthies hosting high- profile events in crucial swing states.

You could throw National Campaign Kickoff Day for a fraction of the cost of a week-long convention. The tens of millions of dollars saved could be used instead for voter registration drives, advertising and all-important GOTV (get out the vote) efforts on Election Day. In short, these are the things that can help determine which candidate wins.

That would be a far more responsible way to use party resources. And, of course, there could still be balloons, too. You gotta have balloons.

ABOUT THE WRITER

J. Mark Powell is a novelist, former TV journalist and diehard history buff. He wrote this for InsideSources.com.

Rain

 For two days I googled our weather online and had a bit of hope for my garden.  Sunday night was supposed to have an 84% chance for rain.  I went to bed last night hearing distant thunder in the north and woke up at 4 A.M. hearing it from the south.  I looked out and the sidewalks weren't even wet.  *sigh*

However, I did hear raindrops gently coming down an hour later; at 6 o'clock, which is the time I let Gabe get up and eat, the rain stopped.  That's a good thing because Gabe hates to do his business in the rain.  There was just enough time for that, and then the gentle rain began again.  I saw online that the clouds were headed down I-70 to St. Louis and thought, "If only we get half an inch, it would help so much."

Yesterday I planted several things for a fall garden, so I had tilled the "concrete" into dry dust.  With no moisture at all, I made rows with my hoe, then took the hose and put water in the dirt of the rows so seeds would have something to start them growing.  That was fortunate, because after being tilled, that dirt soaked every drop of rain as far down as possible.  The rain is over now, and the rain gauge has in it exactly six inches of precious water.  The are more chances for rain this week, but not as likely to actually happen. 

A recent picture of my two cats, Mama Kitty and Blue, looking over the pasture behind the house.

Some of you might enjoy seeing 14-year-old Mama Kitty teaching her last litter of kittens to hunt back in 2012.  If so, you'll find it HERE.  (warning:  a young bunny rabbit died that day.  You have been warned.)

Things of interest

I’m sure all bloggers wonder about all the people who read their blog but have never commented.  I don't take it to heart, but I sometimes wonder if they are local people who are just nosy, or perhaps Internet friends I have somehow offended.  I am one who doesn't comment a lot on the blogs I read, but I do read their blogs almost daily.  My friend Margaret comments quite a bit on my blog, even though I very seldom comment on hers.  Not only that, but when I do comment, rather than comment back on my blog, she sends me an email in response, which I think is great!  That makes it more personal, and probably gets her more readers and more comments.  I'm just too lazy to do that.

I started blogging for two reasons:  I wanted it as sort of a diary that I could look back on through the years.  If nobody read it, I would still go ahead, although I do like the interaction.  And I wanted to be able to say things once in a while that folks on social media would just argue about, always making sure they get the last word.  My politics have changed drastically.  I very seldom talk about it here, but I have a few times.  

When I read the stats of my blog, I've noticed a few people (9 or 10) must have started at my first entry and are gradually going through every entry day by day.  How boring!  I wonder if they have a club, like the book club people do.  Although it might be interesting for them to notice my opinions and feelings have changed over the years.  I am not that same person I was when I first began blogging on AOL back in 1999.  

Yesterday's entry, so far, lists ninety folks who came to read it.  However, the link I included that would take them to a story from 2007 (which was the whole point of yesterday's entry) was only read by fifty-four.

I have put myself out there knowing that some people are coming to this blog to judge me, and I will continue as long as I have my right mind; I assume my family members will let me know when I can't think well enough to be doing this.

Do others of my blogging friends ever wonder about these things?

An old post

I rode my horse up and down the roads around here many times, and had a lot of adventures doing it.  Back then I blogged a lot about my rides.  I've never driven a car, so maybe that's why I so enjoyed going around the countryside on my brown horse named Blue.

One day I rode to the little village of Napoleon, some three miles from my house, to visit with my friend Carol.  However, she wasn't home.  But directly across the road from her house, right on the Missouri River, there was an elevator where we used to buy feed for our livestock that was permanently closed for business.  As I was sitting on my horse, I started taking pictures of the elevator.

And now you need to go read that blog entry to see the rest of the story.  But when you read it, be sure to read the comments, because three different people at different times were very happy to find that story, long after I wrote it.  The very last comment just showed up today... I wrote that entry in 2007.  It makes me really happy that people who loved that man were able to find a story about him.

THE NAPOLEON ELEVATOR  

If you write a comment, it won't show up there because people like to put spam on old entries thinking nobody will know it.  But I always check my comments for new ones left for old entries, because I love to see how it makes people so happy, seeing the names of old friends they remember.  And when I find a comment that isn't spam, I'm very happy to put on there.

We're having a break from the heat

For two days we've had the low 80's, and for the next four days, highs are expected to be in the 70's!  Of course we still can't get a rain, but I ought to be used to that by now.

I've had several books on hold waiting my turn to read them on the ipad. Lately it seems three or four come at once.  Thank goodness I can choose to let a book go to the next person in line and get it later.  I just finished Kristin Hannah's latest book, The Women, about the nurses who  because it's about the nurses in Vietnam during the conflict in the 60's and 70's, and it's so depressing.  The author does a good job of describing clothing and mentioning the songs popular at different times, and the story line is interesting.  I'm glad I have two light, funny books to read new:  A Farewell to Arfs, by Spencer Quinn, and Funny Story by Emily Henry.

I have tried and tried to get some decent pictures of my goats, but they are so hard to photograph!  I try to take a chair out to the pen and sit with them for awhile, which they love.  Louise, the kid goat, jumped up in my lap and just stood there, which didn't feel great on my lap; I finally got her lying down, and she stayed there quite a while.  Her mother stood beside us.  Finally they tired of visit and went off to eat some hay.  Here's one picture I got.  Every time I get done visiting and leave them, they act like they are begging me not to go.  Louise, the daughter, is on the left of her mother, Thelma.  Louise has such blue, blue eyes, I wish I could get a close-up.  Her mom is brown-eyed.

Just as I was putting those words on here, Cliff came to the rescue so he could take some pictures.

I'm not choking her, I just wanted her to face the camera.

Gabe is a little jealous

Here they are standing at the gate as I leave

Cliff took a LOT of pictures, but guess what?  Goats do not cooperate with his picture-taking any better than they do with mine.
 

Good morning world

I have no exciting news for you, but I want to make sure my readers know I'm alive and well.  Between both Cliff and me, we had a fine time during Prime days.  Of course, now that we've seen our bill, it isn't so fine, except that we enjoy the things we purchased.  I bought a FitBit, which wasn't cheap, even on sale.  The main thing I wanted it was to tell me how many steps I take; I also wanted to find out what it would say about my sleep at night.

I took a picture with my camera because I didn't know how to take a screenshot on my phone.  I googled it, and the instructions were to press and hold the power button and the down button.  Finally I had success:  I was holding the two buttons too long!  But since I already have the other picture, I'll use it.  I imagine any seven-year-old would know more about smartphones than I do.  I had the next-door grandson helping me do something on my phone and he said, "Grandma, you have 97 tabs on here!"

I have no idea what a tab is.  I thought if I used the phone to surf the internet, all I had to do was swish it up with my finger and it was gone.  

Anyway, here's how my nights go:

I never sleep more that six hours and thirty minutes.

On the plus side, although I can't "take walks" like I used to, I often get around 10,000 steps just gardening, going to the mailbox, visiting the goats, etc.  I am also one of those folks who sits down inside, then end up thinking of this or that and going to do some minor task before I forget it.

We went to a reunion on my father's side yesterday at a park about 70 miles from us in Cameron, Missouri.  It was getting pretty hot around 2 PM, but we had a good meal and interesting conversations before we left.  There are fewer people every year, like most reunions.  I had stopped going to both my reunions at one time, but my cousin Lela has two daughters on Facebook, and they got me going again.  I would go to my mom's Stevens' family reunion, but most of the folks are a different branch of the family except for four cousins and a couple of their children.  Those four cousins are the ones I used to play with most as a kid, and I cherish them; but I'd rather we just got together with them sometimes.

In 1944, my father and three of his brothers (with their wives, of course) had baby girls.  The next year someone took a picture of the four babies sitting on a blanket in the yard.  I'm the one in the bonnet.  The picture hasn't had the best of care, but here we are, the 1944 babies.

Honestly, I don't know who's who, except for myself.

And look at this: We have all survived to the age of 80.

Donna, Lela, Alice, and Frances, who had the rotten luck to blink at the wrong time.  I guess we'll just have to stay well for another year, and next time we'll take more than one picture, just in case.

By the way, the two on the right graduated with me in North Kansas City High School.  Lela's parents always stayed on their farm in north Missouri, and she and her husband lived in that area too.

The other three of us... well, Alice once said her parents must have been gypsies, they moved so often.  I know my parents moved many, many times, and Frances's family moved around too.  They even lived in California once, picking fruit.

We've all been well blessed.