Bfth's Boring Blog

 ...I won!   Although it isn't much of a victory AND it was a fight that never should have existed.  (Isn't that the case in so many instances?)  For reference (if you haven't already read it):  https://bfthsboringblog.blogspot.com/2023/10/fighting-lies.html So when we last left the situation, all I needed was the contractor's "report" in writing on company letterhead.  Yes, I know this is the 21st century.  So I had to badger the contractor a little to get something in writing.  (I know he has a LOT better things to do with his time than filling out a piece of paperwork for an insurance company saying that he DOESN'T need to do any work at my house.  You know, like actually WORKING on homes that NEED repair.)  He promised me yesterday that he would have something in writing for me and would leave it at the house (between the storm door and the front door) before the end of the day.  And being an honorable man, sure enough he did.   The red covered items a

 I've written about my homeowner's insurance issues in previous posts, but I haven't really given the full story.  That's what I intend to do here.  Maybe what I write can help someone else going through this BS or at least let them know that they are NOT alone...because I'm pretty sure the tale I'm about to tell is not unique to me. My story starts with death.  My mother died in July 2022 and left me the house with the understanding that my dad would live there for as long as he liked/lived.  I never changed the name of the deed (it felt kind of weird) and my dad had always paid for the insurance on the house (homeowners and flood).  After my dad died in July of 2023, I HAD to have the name on the deed changed to mine.  (Which meant I had to go see my parent's lawyer and pay some bucks.)  This took a little bit of time.  (When someone dies there's a LOT of work to be done...I'm STILL not finished and I've tried to be diligent, but some things

  Random thoughts that have been rattling around my brain today: Stephen King is the consummate storyteller.  (Did I really need to say that?  The man is a legend.)  While I am not a fan of all his work (although maybe it's time I go back and give some of stuff I have previously read another try...a "bad" Stephen King is better than a lot of what's out there), I just finished  Holly .  It was yet another one that I couldn't or didn't want to put down.  I had to, several times, because life...but it was so hard to do so.  His tale was totally believable (there is no supernatural aspect...which makes the realistic story all the more horrific) and timely.   Masks are making a comeback.  (Maybe I'm more aware of them after reading  Holly  since it takes place during early/mid covid times.)  Since mid-September I've noticed that traffic on my commute has become extremely congested.  To t

Last night I was in bed flipping through the channels on the tv, like I do just about every night. I used to wonder how my mother could climb into bed to watch tv and then fall asleep; now I know why, it just happens.  Or usually it does.  My evening ritual is to turn on the tv, find something that I like, watch it until a commercial and then flip to something else, then maybe go back or flip to something else.  This continues on until at one point, I stop watching and fall asleep.  (Sometimes I turn on my right side, which is a sure sign I'm about to sleep.)  But last night, this didn't happen and I settled on a  Mad About You  channel.  (Pluto tv has all sorts of weird and sometimes wonderful channels.) I liked and watched the series when it was on in the 90s.  (Perhaps seeing some slight parallels with my own life as I met and married my husband during the show's run.)  I hadn't seen the show in a long time, which is where my brain craziness kicks in.  What follows

  After a Saturday of rain, it was nice to wake up this morning and see some sky (not yet blue, as it was too early) with only a few clouds.  (Versus clouds, clouds and more clouds.)  It was still windy this morning, but not as bad as it was Saturday night.  Sunday brought hope of sunshine. It was sunny and (semi) warm enough to sit on the (enclosed) back porch and attend an early morning church service. (It's nice that no matter where I am, I have the opportunity/ability to attend a church service where I know the pastor and members.)  After the service, I came inside and had some delicious pumpkin spice coffee that my husband had made.  (My husband is THE coffee making man. )  He warned that it was strong (which is more than okay with me) as he had just finished up the bag from our local Wawa .  I sipped it and enjoyed CBS Sunday Morning .  Sun was streaming in the bay window and glistening on the lagoon; life is good. After the show was over and I was fully caffeinated, I decide

Yes, it's a follow up to Friday's post.  And like the 6 Saturdays preceding it; it's raining.  Ugh...what is this?  Seattle?  No, this is not Seattle it's NJ.  (Even Frasier Crane has left Seattle...for a return to Boston.  And I'm pleased to say that at least the first episode is laugh out loud funny and worthy of the bar that was set by the original series. I sat down with a glass of wine [sangria with ice -- Frasier would shudder] and some popcorn [wine and popcorn can work together] and had fun. Looking forward to episode two and hoping that the series continues to be as funny.)  What to do on yet another rainy Saturday? Drive out to Pennsylvania to see my in-laws!  My husband and I hadn't been out to see them in a long time.  (They have come to see us several times; including a late summer Saturday visit at the shore.)  My mother-in-law's birthday is this/next week (Happy Birthday in advance mom), so it was the perfect time to take them both out to lunc

Friday the thirteenth has never been a scary day for me.   The movie (I only saw the first and that was more than enough) is a different story.  Once was enough for me. My father knew that because around the time that the first film came out, when I used the outdoor shower at the summer house we were renting, he would stand outside and make those noises that you heard whenever Jason was around.  (You know what I mean:  the ch, ch, ch, ch, ha, ha, ha, ha.)  When an actual Friday the thirteenth rolls around, it usually puts me in a happy place. I was married on a Friday the thirteenth back in 1996, so whenever the thirteenth lands on a Friday, I am whisked back.  I think of sun and rain (because there were both that day).  I think of family. (Especially my Great Uncle Harold who came all the way from California, along with my cousin and his wife, to make the day even more special.)  I think of the shore; the sun setting over the bay and a cigar boat setting its engine to full throttle

  After being at college for 43 days, my son had a "fall break."  (I didn't realize it came up so quickly; I honestly thought the first time he would come home would be for Thanksgiving break.)  Since it was relatively brief, I wasn't sure he'd want to come home.  (He has definitely taken to college life; especially when he can spend his weekends roaming NYC.)  He did and so on Friday, my husband and I went to pick him up after his (one) class.  (He had said he could skip it since choir is "zero credit," but I thought he should do it and for once he agreed with me!) His class ended at 2:30, so we arranged to pick him up at three in the stadium parking lot.  No surprise: it was rainy/overcast. What was (sort of) surprising was the amount of traffic at that time of day.  (I was really hoping it wouldn't be that bad.)  Waze took me on the highway, then off, then back on.  When I was breezing along the turnpike, Waze had me get off and I followed "

 ...can't trust that day.  Once again, I am showing my age.  I just write that and I can hear the Mamas & the Papas singing the whole song.  And it's true.  You CAN'T trust Monday. It's a "holiday."  It's actually TWO holidays.  Columbus Day, which is supposed to celebrate Columbus' "discovery" of the new world.  (He didn't end up where he was supposed to.  The islands in the Atlantic were not India.)  It seems to me to be more a celebration of Italian Heritage.  (I'm all for that.)  It's also Indigenous Peoples' Day. (Celebrating the people who were already "here" and who were NOT Indians because it wasn't India.)  I'm not against either holiday, though I can understand the conflict and the issues associated with both and in MY opinion, the Indigenous peoples of the Americas really got a raw deal, but that's a story for another day. Today also marks the birthday of John Lennon.  Tragically dead for l

  If you are of a certain age and you see that phrase, you immediately hear in your head the rest of the jingle.  (You may even know that Barry Manilow wrote it.)  However, I'm thinking more about BEING a good neighbor than the jingle.  (Although I'll admit that now it's stuck in my head.) I'd like to think that generally, I am a good neighbor.  Wouldn't we all like to think that?  Most of us (I think) TRY to be good neighbors, but let's face it, at some point we are all a**hats.  I'm sure I've pissed off my neighbors at some point, but I hope that in general I'm a decent neighbor.  AND I'm happy to report that generally my neighbors are really good.  In fact, I've got some neighbors who are downright GREAT.  (I hope you know who you are.) What makes great neighbors?  To me it's communication and consideration...not just to me but to all of the neighbors in the surrounding area.   Example:  a few years back one of my neighbors did a MAJOR

  Dear Mom & Dad, Clearly, I am more resistant to change than I thought (or said the other day).  One day with no bang (pulled back with a clip) and I couldn't take it.  I looked at myself in the mirror and initially thought I could deal with this.  By the end of the day I couldn't.  Reminded me way too much of my hair in high school.  More specifically my senior class photo (and I believe church directory photo as well), where both mom and I had our hair pulled back (no bangs) in a knot/bun.  I don't know why I ever thought that was attractive.  And then I remembered my college photo.  Still no bangs, but hair not pulled back, but probably about the length it is now.  It wasn't quite as bad (or severe), but still...NO.  So I took scissors to those overgrown bangs and here we are today...They don't look great (my hair never looks great, but that's another topic), but it is better.  (Not much, but...) I guess I really don't like change when it comes t

  Dear Mom & Dad, I KNOW you would agree; change is hard.  Change is challenging.  Change is inevitable. October is definitely a month of change.  For me it's the most visible month where we see the transition from one season to the next.  The leaves change colors, the Halloween decorations go up.  (Late Sunday afternoon our beloved neighbors, the K family, were putting up their flying witch, having already put up their giant skeleton [the one that is 12 feet tall and nearly impossible to purchase because there is so much demand for it].  Later, when I put out the trash, I saw that the new neighbors, right across the street from them had put up their own giant skeleton.  Seems like there is going to be a real decoration challenge happening...and my life size Mr. Bones is not going to cut the muster.)  The temperatures start to dip. (It was quite cold last week, but today I'm back in no sleeves because it's going to almost hit 80 today and tomorrow...talk about change!)