March 23, 2019

I wonder why the years went by since my last post in 2013 and then I remember that most of these years weren't pleasant.. They came fast and furious with blessings in the form of the birth of a beautiful  new granddaughter, pain of a shattered pelvis for me, and turmoil in my two youngest daughters lives, then my cancer and the blessing of prayers and now on the road to recovery.

So this post is brief and a test to get me back on point again - whatever that is. Have a Beautiful Spring everyone!

National Mental Health Day -September 4, 2014

My beautiful daughter is now 23, she graduated last year and won two coveted awards, - for "The Most Improved Student, and for The most Literate Student. . She loves - books - writing - and going to the library.  I took her often to my classes at Salem College - where she quietly sat next to me and took notes. Because of one of my professors, she began journaling and writing, Akong with this, she loves animals and particularly dogs. She volunteers at the local animal control and has for the past five years, 

September 4, 2014 is National Mental Health Day. I have a daughter, a beautiful young woman who is diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, ADHD, Mild Mental Retardation, and along with Mental Illness because of the brain's dysfunction where her world is still childlike. She looks perfectly normal but those who have understanding and compassion are quick to understand. When this first started, rather where/when I knew something was wrong, 

I first closed my mind, as did other family members. When her hospitalizations began to over-lap, the seriousness took a major turn. I sat for hours and days waiting just to beg for help. I find myself in this same position ten years later after the first onset,, only the pain of finding dead-ends is taking its toll on my life. 

PLEASE support this call to make the powers that control the funding for the mentally ill. This is a greater cancer which has yet to be detected but prevails in 1 out of 4 humans. Insurance companies do not and often deny hospitalization because those facilities who contain the mentally ill, simply do that and do not treat these people. I M SORRY,I have said too much, except, I have been told - "There is no "box" TO PUT MY DAUGHTER IN. She is not dead and I dont need a box. Please, once again support NAMI, National Mental Health Day on September 4, 2014 and visit http://act4mentalhealth.tumblr.com/

In Loving Memory of Dr. Penelope Niven --- The Mother & Daughter Bond – Published in the Winston-Salem Journal – Mother’s Day Special Section 2003

Sometimes, the mother and daughter bond is so deep, it goes beyond words.

            When Penelope Niven and daughter Jennifer Niven tell each other --- “I love you more than words,” many people will recognize the fact that even Webster’s dictionary may not hold enough words to describe that love because both mother and daughter are published authors. What makes the Nivens’ bond so deep is how they actively participate in and nurture each other’s lives. These valuable lessons go deeper than their connection as writers.

             However strong mother and daughter relationships are a part of the Nivens’ heritage. Penny offers, “Jennifer and I have a very deep spiritual sense, we come from a line of very strong women. The Niven women in general are very strong dynamic women; there are just dozens of us, so perhaps some of that is genetic.”  

            Sometimes the best lessons in life really do come from our mothers. It has only been a few weeks since Penelope Niven’s mother passed away (sic: March 2003), and it is these lessons that have helped to see Penny through this difficult time. “Getting to know my mother as a woman and friend as well as my mother grew and grew year by year. My mother taught me to cherish the imagination and to be my full self. These were lessons of a woman’s strength. My mother was a person who could do all those things in a time when women weren’t quite so adventurous. She was a pioneer in that when I was growing up in the 1950’s she was already able expertly to balance family and a career as a teacher. I had so much admiration and respect for both my parents and for the way they handled that last phase of the journey of life. They made deep peace with life and when you can do that, you don’t have to make peace with death.”

            Penelope Niven also became a teacher, and is a Professor of English at Salem College in addition to being a published author. She always knew she wanted to be a writer and credits her early development, recalling the exact moment at the age of five when knew she wanted to be a writer: “I can still see how those black marks looked and that I knew then that I would be able to read words and then write words. I went home and said I just needed to get busy and learn how to write today.” It was not until after she turned forty that writing would become her other life work.

            The catalyst for her writing career was a trip to Connemara, the home of Carl Sandburg in Flat Rock. Sandberg’s home had just opened to the public. This initial endeavor was as a volunteer to help organize over 30,000 Sandburg papers. While there she met Lucy Kroll who was Carl Sandburg’s agent. These two events opened the door for her and she wrote Carl Sandburg: a Biography which was published in 1991. From this she co-authored with James Earl Jones, Voices and Silences. As an outgrowth of the Sandburg biography she wrote, Steichen: a Biography. Steichen was Carl Sandburg’s brother-in-law and a pioneer as well as one of the foremost photographers of the last century. Other books include a children’s book on Sandburg, a soon to be released biography on Thornton Wilder and her newest book Swimming Lesson’s, which is not about swimming but about living your life and learning to live, and will come out next spring.       

Her daughter, Jennifer Niven however, is her pride and joy. Penny states that some of the best lessons in life, she learned from her daughter; “I have the most marvelous daughter ever -  on earth and on this planet. Jennifer and I have always had such a friendship in addition to our mother daughter bond which is very, very deep. She is my finest work of art and I’ll never be anything better or more joyful or more significant than being Jennifer’s mother.”        

            Growing up as the daughter of a writer was an advantage for Jennifer Niven. As a child, her mother would set a small desk next to her bigger one and they would have writing times together. Jennifer tells us; “At first I said oh this is fun, we’re having writing time though it was probably more about me then her when we were sitting side by side together. Later I realized it was as much for her as it was for me.” Deciding that writing would also become Jennifer’s life work came at the age of 19 when she traveled with her mother who was then working with James Earle Jones on location in Louisiana while he was filming the movie, “Convict.”

             Jennifer would travel with her mother and do things with her that normal kids did not do such as meet many famous people. “I had dabbled in short story writing and play writing but I had never really thought about writing for television or for film. Being on that set with James Earl Jones and in that atmosphere really excited me. It was my first real first-hand experience and shortly after that I went to film school and studied screen writing.”

            After completing college, Jennifer received her MFA in writing and moved to California where she became a screen writer. She won an Emmy for a short film called Velva Jean Learns how to Drive, based on a story written by her mother. Jennifer Niven’s first novel, The Ice Master: the Doomed 1913 Voyage of the Karluk was named one of the top ten nonfiction books of 2000. Her new novel, Ada Blackjack, a sequel to The Ice Master will be released in fall of 2003.

             Jennifer credits her mother for always telling her, “You can do anything you put your mind to, you can be anything you want to be, and to never ever sell yourself short or to settle for less. She always taught me to dream big and that was one of the most valuable things I ever learned and it certainly has helped me to shape my life. My mother has always given me unconditional love and inspired me to do whatever I wanted to do. If I were to have a daughter, I would hope to be as wonderful a mother as my mom is to me. One of the main reasons I would have a child, would be to give back some of what my mom has given to me because she has been the most incredible mother.”

            Penelope Niven says that the work of parenting is one of the most important works on earth. “Building a strong relationship with children is increasingly difficult for young mothers. They do not always have the time that they need to be totally present for their children. This is not their fault but an impact of the economy and our society. The importance for mothers and fathers is to be able to be present in their children’s lives. You have to work harder to carve out the time. I think about my mother and that we lived in a much slower pace of time and we were able to find balance and true communication. This is a reason my daughter and I talk on the phone every day – it is as necessary as breathing.”       

An Intimate Interview with Dr. Maya Angelou . . .

I had the pleasure of interviewing Dr. Maya Angelou in 1997 for a local Winston-Salem, North Carolina Triad Magazine. This interview was really at the beginning of my writers "one-a-be" and a learning experience from which I decide to go back to college to learn what I didn't know. All these years I have kept the Tape pf our interview and many times would play the tape to myself because Dr Angelou so inspired me.  The interview is 30 minutes long and while for me the time went buy to fast. For those who chose to listen, I hope you gain as much inspiration as I did as well as listen to the end where Dr. Angelou reads one of her poems . . . .

And He Shall Dance Again: A Poem for my Father by Bev Hamel

In Loving Memory
William Augustus Alderfer
July 1, 1921
February 17, 2012

And He Shall Dance Again

My father and I were connected by a long distance cord

of a slim white paper cigarette,

A nasty habit that oddly comforted me

as once a month arrived,

a slim white envelope

bearing his handwriting,

tidy, neat and even strokes

like ripples on a pond

mailed from Pennsylvania

to Carolina, where cigarettes

were half the price.

I fed his addiction,

a ruse to keep his letters

binding him to me.

Pictures in my mind,

scatter in slow motion through

a kaleidoscope of colors, where

I see him young with hair

untouched by grey,

tall and strong,

my anchor in the wind.

I am a little girl again -

Take me for a ride daddy,

and he lifts me up into the air

high above his head

I will never let you fall, he says,

higher still he thrusts me to the sky

Now just reach for any star,

they’re all yours,

then taught me how to make them mine.

I went away to gather tiles

to build the mosaic of my life,

minutes vanished into days

years withered into air,

I did not see him bent and weak,

nor slowly drift away.

He will always be my hero

connected now by a long distance cord

of billowy clouds drifting in the daytime sky

and when the evening sky turns dark

we will dance upon the stars that he made mine.

Creating Donovan’s Brain by Bev Hamel

I am always thankful when the day’s rush hours are over and although each day typically ends in frenzy the same as the day begins, the ending frenzy is more relaxed and fun. Sometimes we all make dinner then homework, baths, hugs, giggles, and a monster mom story, which usually turns into bedlam when girls, dogs, and cats, chase after me from room to room. We act out each story; one of my silly ‘monster mom versus girls’ where the villain is always subdued with hugs and kisses.

Tonight I rushed through the routine because of my own homework; a writing assignment for one of Forsyth Tech classes. Finally, the girls are settled in their room pretending to be asleep but will probably be for real soon, so it was okay for me to attend to my own needs.Read more at

Veterans are Not Just Men . . . Women Were Soldiers Too

Three pairs of eyes stare out from the photographs of three women, each wearing a Women's Army uniform from three different wars. A photograph of me in my Viet Nam era uniform sits next to one of my mother in her World War II uniform along with one of my daughter in her camouflage fatigues from the first war in Iraq.

I see me in my mother's reflection and I see my mother in my daughter's reflection. But it is the eyes that stare back at me, all three pairs, that tells me my inner strength comes equally from the women in my life as well as the men.

MILLIE
I had always thought that my mother's name was Millie until I stumbled across her birth certificate after she died and found that her given name was Amelia. I think the name  Millie suited her better. In this portrait, she is twenty-three and on the back is written; 'red hair, hazel eyes.' Both my daughter and I have brown hair and brown eyes but I think even a stranger would agree that we have Millie's eyes.

My mother was a beautiful woman in her youth. Her eyes are full of life, of hope, of promise, of high expectations she set for herself, and instilled in me. Her eyes fit her personality, the one that I still remember. Not the Millie I knew during those troubled years of her battle in another war, the one that eventually took her life, the war with breast cancer.

I remember when I was seven and my brother was stricken with polio. I didn't know the sacrifices she made but realize now the necessity of why she instilled in me high ideals for my own self , for teaching me to be independent, for teaching me to look to my faith to guide me in troubled times, and to believe in myself.

I was nineteen when my mother died. She never saw me in my WAC uniform. She never knew my daughter Dana.

DANA

In this portrait, she looks stern and strong. Her eyes penetrate my very soul, and still have the capability to take my breath away. The first time I looked into her eyes, I was hopelessly lost, hopelessly in love. My daughter's eyes - so big - so brown so deep - like the ocean.

Dana looks like my mother, and she looks like me. It is in her eyes. They reflect her strength and her courage.

We are separated by distance but not by heart. And yes, I hurt not to be near her, and my five beautiful grandchildren, two who I have never held but in my dreams. Soon, she will be a grandmother and as I watch my granddaughter Tori and her tummy grow, I hope one day we will all be together again.

Any given moment of the day I only need to turn to facebook and there they all are, second best though it is, I can watch all of them grow.  

BEV
I look so young in this picture and wonder where did this young woman go. Images of my life and all my yesterdays wash through me like a kaleidoscope of colors. I see thousands of tiny pieces that represent a moment of my life between then and now. In my now moment of life I can still see the young me peering through my glasses. My face shows fine lines of age, though I don't see them  I know others do. I know where I have been, I know how I have lived, and I know there is still so much I want to do.

But lines on faces from age and life - I don't want to erase - each one is memory - good - bad - indifferent. I earned them. I learned from them.

My mother taught me. My daughters and granddaughters taught me - all of them - because my family is and has been blended.

I come from family lineage from both American and foreign lands where the men stood up to fight for their county's freedom, but I also came from a long line and heritage of  women, who were soldiers too and in so many ways, stronger then men.

Why I Went Square and Ditched My Credit Card Machine

My Square

Being Square is the best thing since sliced bread, because now my bank can no longer steal from me.
First there is no longer monthly fees of a minimum discount fee of $15.00 a month or higher. Then there is no longer the $5.99 charge for being in compliance. Then there is no longer the $5.00 access fee. Then there is no longer the actual discount fees each credit card company charges. And then there is no potential additional fees should I wish to speak with Merchant Services more then twice a month, and lastly there is the total avoidance of not having 28% of my merchant deposits held for a new law going into effect January 1, 2012.  

Square and Mackie in
MyTouch 4G Khaki

Square is only 1 inch by 1 inch and is as portable as my cell phone. I just plug it in the top of my phone, tap on the app and speak into my phone or type in the necessary information. I am asked if I want receipt by email or SMS and then I'm done. Money is in my account at end of day and customer goes away happy.

So today I gleefully called Merchant Services and told them good by. I pulled the cord from the VeriFone, and the land line, and will now be placing it for sale as a genuine antique in my shop.

Very soon I will be doing this with my land line company and broadband provider, but I am still researching the possibilities which may be finalized as early as next week. Although I have to say I am tad bit nervous because the last time I did that - all hell broke loose.
We'll see.

Antique VeriFone For Sale

Thieves in the Night and Reward for Stolen Statues

Stolen Statues

Stolen Grecian Lady Statue

This morning when I opened the front door of my shop, I looked out to starkness - empty spaces with rings and squares of dirt left by rain around the space where statues once stood. At first I couldn't believe my eyes and then an empty sadness came over me. This was not the first time thieves had pillaged the front of my shop. Earlier this year thieves stole two giant frogs and Easter Island heads. 

So we put up more lights including motion detectors. Lights even go on inside and in the room above over-looking the front of my building. We even have seven Yorkie watch dogs, and a daughter whose two rooms are in the front of the building.

Empty Spaces

But the thieves came quietly in the night and went off with a total of 12 statues of varying shapes, sizes, and colors. They are all cement and heavy. They are all though, each one unique because each one was painted by me in eclectic blends of colors. I do a good business in selling them, frogs and Easter Island heads being the most popular. I carry them because they add interest and an eclectic look to my shops front exterior.

More Empty Spaces

So somebody needed them perhaps to sell at a flea market so they can make money. Or sell them to customers because the thieves are yard workers, or avid gardeners. One thing for certain, they are local and they drive a truck or van. All totaled they stole over $1500.00 worth of statues.

Even More Empty Space

I hope they are caught and get their just due.

More Empty Space

Empty Places

As for me, I am offering a reward for their safe return. But I doubt it - thieves are thieves after all.

A List of the Gone But Not Forgotten

1. Grecian Lady approx 4 ft tall

2. Pair (2) of Victorian Maple Leaf / Pineapple Statues about 65 pounds each - sand painted.

3. Light House Bird Bath - Silver, black, Red

4. Giant Stork/Heron Statue

5. Red Gnome/Elf

6. Easter Island Statue

7. Maui Head

8. Planter with Evergreen

9. Frog Statue

10. Tiered Frog Bath
11. Victorian planter
Giant Green Frog as seen on the upper right side of picture.

In Banks We Trust . . to keep coming up with new ways to steal our money.

Free checking is like a dinosaur with most banks these days, extinct. Even though my checks are perfectly plain, I think twice before I write one because it costs me $.17 for each check. 


Pity the poor banks who now have to"adjust our pricing to reflect today’s economics" as one was quoted saying in a newspaper article. Oh, but don't worry, if you keep a minimum balance of several thousand dollars to as low as $15, 000 on hand in some of the California banks - you won't be affected.

To quote another paper, "and with a new rule that just took affect that limits banks’ ability to make money from merchants, it also means paying for the privilege of swiping your debit card."

I expect momentarily for my bank, BB&T, to follow suit with the likes of Bank America, Wells Fargo, Citi, and a myriad of other State and local to join one of the greatest organized theft rings in the country, not to mention the world even though the French started (the trend) first.  Give me a break, please, how can you test charging banking customers for using there own money? A debit card is a direct route to a bank account isn't it. It's bad enough if you can't find one of your own bank's teller machine and use another bank - you are often charged twice for the transaction - by your bank and the teller machine's bank. 


Are we suppose to feel sorry for banks now because they can't over charge you for bouncing a check or screw the retailer with too high credit card processing fees. Wait a minute -  first what you are not being told is that banks have been continually devising new ways to take both consumers and retailers' money. 

Wait . . . You're the teller. I'm the customer!
No . . . I'm the teller. You're the customer!

I am both a consumer and a very small retailer and I am struggling to make a decision as not to take debit or credit cards in my shop, and to post a check or cash only sign. While this can and will hurt my business, my bank has been ruthless in slamming my account with fees. They have actually come up with a way to cover their perceived losses. One is called PCI DSS certification fee for the sheer pleasure of being compliant with your credit card machine. (excuse me - this the machine that  I had to purchase from their merchant department and who processes all my transactions - but I am the one being charged).Then there is a net work access fee (oh- I pay for the phone line). Then there is the discount due, the card pass through fee is still there, and won't know the difference until next month, but last month, they took a whopping 45% of my sales. This isn't all - I received a letter from my bank as to another new law advising me that they must hold 28% of my payment card transactions due to a new IRS law if I don't comply (but they can't tell me how I need to comply).. 


There's more to come and I imagine law makers in every state across the country jumping on Louisiana's band wagon. It seems the state just initiated a new law that bans cash for second hand transactions. This was posted on a Louisiana Eye Witness News: http://www.klfy.com/story/15717759/second-hand-dealer-law.


I hope you read the lame excuse that it's because the " bill is targeted at criminals who steal anything from copper to televisions, and sell them for a quick buck. Having a paper trail will make it easier for law enforcement."


Yeah - right on again. Just another new plan devising a way to get more of our money. The consumer has to pay with a debit or credit card; the shop owner must maintain a merchant account, and the credit card companies and banks will be happy again. 


I can't wait to hear what they come up with next - - - any bets?

Hmm - now that I think of the criminals are to blame for this new law - so does this mean that the merchant can only purchase goods with a credit card in order to resell an item, and the crooks must also have a credit/debit card machine? Huh - Did I miss something here?

Merchant: "Hi Mr Crook - Sure I'll buy it, but I can't give you cash. Do you accept Visa/Master Card/ American Express or debit card?"

Crook: "Certainly. I have a wireless machine. They're fab"

Top Spin Ride at the Dixie Classic Fair

Dixie Classic Fair in Forsyth County NC

Me Like You . . . YUM!

Today was one of those beautiful Autumn days and what better way to while away the afternoon, but at the Dixie Classic Fair.

There was a time in my life when I used to go for the rides, but now I go to eat my way through the food, which, seems to get more outrageous every year. Such as the deep fried Kool-Aid and cheese cake. My favorite is the Gyros - The food vendor comes from New York where they know how to make real Gyros meat, not to mention the cumber sauce.

Super Heroes

The meat and fixings are so good, I send my husband there several times during the week (because he can get in for free) just to pick up a Gyro to-go-box, and one that we can reassemble at home.

Ceaser/Howdy Doody/Nero

Then there are the buildings and exhibits. Every year my daughter Beverly II's school, which is a special education school, participates, primarily through the art department. So the Education building is the second stop (after the Gyros). Earlier last week, Beverly who goes to Carter High School in Winston Salem, said, "Mom, Ms Goodwin asked if I could bring Ceaser to school so that she can enter him in the fair."

Ziggy the Cat

"You mean Ceaser aka Howdty Doody, aka Nero?." She giggled. She gave the bust to me for mother's day this past May and it has had a place of honor in my house since then. When I look at the face, I am torn between, Ceaser, Howdy Doody, and Nero. I just love the naivety and the kind of kooky happiness and grin that looks back at me.
 
"Of course you can, but we need to wrap him carefully," I said.

Needless to say, I was ecstatic when we walked down the aisle and I immediately say Howdy sitting with a Blue Ribbon next to him.

Carter HS Class Project

But behind Howdy was a collective class project which not only had a Blue Ribbon, but a Judges Best in Show Purple Ribbon, and then there was Ziggy (our cat) colorfully hanging on the wall with a Red Ribbon for second place next to him.

There was only one thing I could do and that was to go win a prize for my talented daughter. I tried bingo first, but that was a drag and after loosing $5.00, I decided to go for the gold.

My Shining Star and My Very
Own Super Hero

"You know, the booths with the biggest stuffed animals?" I told Beverly II and my husband, Bud the Plumber, "The biggest prizes mean the game is next to impossible to win. It's fixed."

So I bought a bucket of rings for $3.00 and tossed them on to a bottle and WON!

It was a piece of cake - almost as easy as eating the deep fried cheese cake.

For My Father

Like father like daughter, we hide

behind gray puffs of smoke,

crave the acrid spice of nicotine.

His is Misty menthol,

mine Misty light.

A nasty habit that oddly comforts me

as once a month arrived

a slim white envelope

bearing his handwriting,

tidy, neat and even strokes

like ripples on a pond,

mailed from Pennsylvania

to Carolina, where cigarettes

were half the price.

I fed his addiction,

a ruse to keep his letters

binding him to me,

by a long distance cord

of a slim white paper cigarette.

Always bringing back,

Pictures in my mind,

scattering in slow motion through

a kaleidoscope, where

I could see him young with hair

untouched by grey,

tall and strong,

my anchor in the wind.

Take me for a ride daddy,

and he lifts me up into the air

high above his head

I will never let you fall,

higher still he thrusts me to the sky

beyond the billowy puffs of clouds

Now just reach for any star,

they’re all yours, he said

then taught me how to make them mine.

I went away to gather tiles

to build the mosaic of my life,

minutes vanished into days

years withered into air,

his hair now grey as evening sky,

bent and weak, he is

a pillar toppled by a winter breeze.

The letters stopped years ago, but in my    

mind  they still come

connecting us by a long distance cord

A slim white papered cigarette -

his is Misty menthol, mine is Misty light

and when night time shadows fall,

billowy clouds  will always smoke

behind the stars that he made mine. 

I love you daddy

Guilty Sunday Blues

Instead of sitting in church, we are sitting in our car traveling north on Highway 52 from Winston-Salem. Our final destination is the winery at Chateau Morrisette which is nestled in a valley a short distance from milepost 171.5 along the Blue Ridge Parkway in Floyd, Virginia. Once there, my husband, daughter and I will indulge in one of the best Sunday Brunches that I have ever had (not to mention awesome wine tasting). Before we arrive at this destination, I indulge in another ulterior motive for our adventure – antiquing and junqueing along the highway through Mount Airy, North Carolina and Cana, Virginia. Read more at All Things Girl online

Remembering New York and 9/11

1928 View Wall Street

On this eleventh day of September 2015, I will say a prayer and remember. I will remind myself that life can be taken from us at any given moment and I will try to treasure this day. 


As a child I lived in Pennsylvania in a tiny town near the center of my father's large family. My mother's family was less than three hours away, in New Jersey and New York City. I grew up in a contrast of languages, my father's Pennsylvania Dutch, and my mother's Slovak, Polish, Russian, and other languages which confused me even more. I loved going on long extended visits to see my New York relatives. The sounds, smells, and sights of the city became embedded beneath my skin. After we moved to Florida, I quickly adapted to southern living and culture. As a young adult I got to travel to many places, some exotic, and some not so exotic. But this is how we grow, how the world goes around, changing places and changing faces.

I traveled to New York City on a fairly regular basis throughout my adult life as it is one of the main retail centers in the world. I had to be there during every major market week and many smaller mini-markets throughout the year. My first office in New York City was in the Empire State Building, on the 79th floor. One particular elevator always seemed eerie to me. Sometimes the noise seemed deafening, particularly on the rare occasions when I was the only one in the elevator. I also hated walking the winding corridor to the ladies room where heat and more noise radiated through the walls. The July of the first year after I joined the company, I found out why, although I was still in Chicago packing for a trip to the Big Apple. Parade magazine ran a big article on the military plane that crashed into the Empire State Building on July 28, 1945 --- smack dab into the 79th floor leaving a gaping hole 18 feet high and 20 feet wide and destroying the offices along the corridor to the ladies room.

Manhatten 1928

I had other offices, one on the Avenue of Americas, and one across fro the World Trade Center. I used to stop in the deli there for a bagel or breakfast sandwich. Occasionally I even had business meetings at the Trade Center, and friends. I left the corporate world for good when I opened my antique shop, but never forgot the excitement, or sounds, smells and sights of New York City.

In August of 2001, my husband and I had decided to move to another part of North Carolina and had just begun the process of purchasing a plantation and estate, looking to turn it into a B&B along with selling antiques. We had just returned from a final view of the property before making an offer when 911 happened. I know that the world stopped for many people on that day which forever altered our lives from one corner of the globe to the other. For me and my family, we stopped and took a long look around us and realized that home to us, was right where we were and should be.

Ground Zero 1928

Now ten years later, I realize even more how dramatically my life changed. I went back to College and then on to earn my MFA. I made many changes, some difficult and some because the world as we knew it, had changed. We are and will continue to be in a constant change of flux,

On this eleventh day of September 2015, the cloudless sky is crystal blue, the air holds a hint of the fall season soon to come. Summer still lingers, but shadows dance upon the walls minutes earlier then the day before. I imagine at the ground zero sight, at a field in Pennsylvania, and where ever people lost their lives on this fateful day, thousands of shadows dancing and I hope that they are at peace, hope they are at rest. 

Communications Error PART III

A Comedy of Errors

To say that I am not happy right now, is an understatement.

Pure and simple, the companies that supply my cell phone lines (4), my landline (1) which also happens to be my Internet connection, and now my bank  - SUCK.

Having made this announcement, I am certain my service will go from pathetic, to worse. I mention my bank because they keep coming up with new ways to keep my money.

After my last post on Communication Error Part II, my cell and land line service almost seized to exist.  

This week did not start out very well. I had no bars on my 4G cell phone, and my land line had no dial tone. Although I was able to get on the internet with some of my computers, the internet speed was less then 1400 kbps. My land phone though, was dead (except if you attempted to call the number, you would get a busy signal).

First, T Mobile. Over the course of the past few months, due to many issues including being billed for text from a place called Mauritania, I connected with a supervisor named “Jennifer.”  She has supposedly been overseeing my account because of the problems. So much for promises, such as free phones for renewing your contract, and that “Don’t worry, I have everything under control,” she tells me, and for a while I thought she did and did not worry. Our last conversation was that she would call me on September 2nd. I guess she meant a different year then 2011.

Moo Yorkie

But this isn't the half of it because I elected to go paperless billing and my T Mobile bill is still mysteriously not available to me, although it claims I owe them $444.00 (less change) for current charges. The bill was $644.00 but they evidently applied a credit of $200.00 based on a phone I purchased in July and which, instead of applying my charge card purchase to the phone, they applied it to a bill which did not generate until 11 days later (but they did ship my phone).

So beginning Monday, and successive days throughout the week, I spoke with numerous customer reps who had thick accents. After hours of trying to explain my months of T Mobile hell and nightmares, my connection with said reps, was dropped. Whether or not they cut me off (which, has happened often in the past) is another issue.

I am getting extremely tired of speaking with people who are very difficult to understand and I am still waiting to view a valid bill.

But at least the outcome with Windstream – my landline and Internet carrier – faired better. 

It isn’t that I care about my land line although it my connection to the Internet, but I have had this number for almost 20 years and my family often forgets our cell phone numbers. I also keep this landline because on occasion, I accept credit card purchases in my shop.

I wont though after January 1, 2012.  Accept credi card purchases that is. Not when my bank (BB&T) sent me a letter informing me that they must keep 28% (known as Federal backup withholding). 

HUH?????

OUCH

They already charge me $5.00 a month for the sheer pleasure of using a credit card machine. They already charge me a pass through fee meaning just swiping a card through the machine. They already charge me $5.99 a month for being in Compliance. They already charge me a base fee of $15.00 a month as a minimal charge for Charges/debits. They already charge me an additional fee for said credit/debits of up to 6% a month depending upon the credit/debit card name/company. Not to mention that my previously free checking is no longer free and should I wish to pay by check, said check will cost $.18 per check to write. In short, I loose between $400.00 and $800.00 a year for doing business with them.

I Have a Headache

 So much for being a loyal customer. Which is why my cell phone company, my land line company, and my bank, who all want my business, suck. 

Cell Phones, Landlines, and Communications Error Part II

Help. Get me out PLEASE!

I have been a loyal customer of TMobile who bought out SunCom and before that I had Verizon, who screwed me royally. I won’t go into that but it was about “only the primary number" had allocated minutes and subsequently I was charged $600.00 for additional minutes, although my total minutes were unused.

The explanation was very simple – the line who used the minutes was not the primary number.

I will fast forward to the present and the past three months which have totally sucked up every ounce of patience I thought I had.

This particular time (yes – there was another ugly time when I tried to go wireless (and if you care to read about it – click on Communications Error by Bev Hamel), has been abysmal. It’s true, history does repeat itself, particularly on Sunday afternoons when I clean up my computer from a weeks worth of internet surfing, or when my cell phone contract is about to expire and I need to make a decision whether to stay with my current company, or not.

We are!

Up until a few months ago, I had been happy with my cell phone carrier, T Mobile. I had not been happy with my two teenage daughters and their cell phone usage, but I was safe – I had family allowances and could control their usage. What I couldn’t control was their carelessness in taking care of their cell phones. There have been mysteriously broken phones, dropped phones in places where one does not want to go fishing, not to mention confiscated phones that only a parental figure can reclaim. We have had stolen phones and phones that disintegrated through wear and tear – but no one admits to being responsible.

This is not T Mobile’s fault, but the unauthorized text messages and charges to my account when parental controls were in place, is. No one in my family knows any one from Mauritania, nor do we even know where it is though through Googling the number and name, Mauritania is a country in West Africa and an Islamic Republic.

Not one of us received a message – just a charge. Okay so $.20 is nothing, but it does add up. The first time I called customer service, I was told – text back to “STOP.”

“How do I do that? The phone doesn’t ring and there is no record of receiving the message on our actual phones. The only way I know about this is because the charges are on my bill!”

“That is not possible,” a very thickly accented voice replies.

Where is Muriatania?

“Can you explain to me why I have my phone turned off and I am asleep at 3:00 in the morning? In fact all my other three cell phone users are asleep as well. Can’t you stop this?”

“No,” the voice said. ”We can’t block International calling or text, besides you have parental control and family allowances.”  

I'd rather have the parental controls.  The messages continued and so did the charges. I continued to spend quality time on the phone with T Mobile customer service. requesting the charges be removed. Every person I spoke with had a different solution.

So, this was my first problem – I talked to many customer service people until I demanded a supervisor. But it still took hours, days and weeks to resolve. I am not sure if this was finally resolved because  I condescended to renewing my contract, getting new phones, adding an unlimited text and data plan for my family, with the exception that the two teenage people in my family  - have 500 minutes each. One of these people used the minutes in a few days, and although the text messaging was unlimited, the other teenaged person, made international calls to Morocco (which were not in the plan), while the male parental figure accidentally downloaded a bloat ware app though I told him the Android Market is loaded with free apps.

Ok, so I love my new Khaki Slide!

This, though is not the last straw. It seems somehow, my new family plan racked up a whopping $653.00 bill this month.  It seems there was a little bit of communication error, between customer service reps and supervisors, not to mention it turned out the free phones we were suppose to receive, weren't free after all.

If only this was all, and I wont go into detail, but between the severe storms, earthquake, my Windstream land line and broad band connection went puff! New phones, new modem, new plan, and two weeks later, a new bill, I am ready to become a hermit.

However, we no longer have text messages from Mauritania showing up. They are now coming from EGYPT!