Testdriving the Clone

I am very happy with the way Canon handled my warranty repair. Very, very happy. And no, they did not pay me to say that. I just figure fair is fair. I would have been merciless had they behaved badly.  The little camera was replaced with the identical model, either new or factory-refurbished, and I do not care which.  It came with all the accessories that come with a new camera, including a new battery pack.  Then, the next day—and this is the going-above-and-beyond part—a little package arrived that contained the lens cloth I used to wrap the little camera before I swathed it in bubble wrap for its trip.  I kid you not.  Looky here:

So I’ve been testdriving The Clone and it seems to work just fine.  I thought I would make some nice pictures using the tripod, but the tripod, it turns out, is in the car, and the car is in the shop.  Oh well. Here is your gallery for the day.

There are stories behind the images, of course.  The Eastport Market has brought in a new line of construction hardware.  My bear coinpurse is so full of change that the zipper broke but I kept it anyway.  The camera blankie is back, but you knew that.  The coins in the coinpurse are full of You-Know-Who’s fur.  I remembered to take my blood pressure pills every day this week.  The Cowboy is full of stories, but he’s not talking.  I made a supper last night that actually required the use of a timer.  We had tea in elegant china.  OK, we had tea in a soup-bowl size MSU mug, but the tea itself was Red Berries from the TeaSource.  Everyday life is a good thing.

Right now, as I blog, the Township Board Budget Hearing is getting underway.  I would be there, as it is within walking distance, but an hour ago Miss Sadie and the Cowboy took off at high speed.  Must have been a deer, but they were off over the hills and I could not see.  The Cowboy came back fairly quickly, having recalled that this sort of behavior leads to incarceration in the dog room without breakfast.  Miss Sadie is still AWOL.  I am both angry and worried.  It is like having teenaged children all over again.  No it isn’t.  Rob the Firefighter was a lot less trouble than the Duo, and that is saying something.  The worst part, of course, is knowing that it is All My Fault.  (I secretly felt that way about RTFF, too, on those occasions when he did something that scared me.  I no longer feel that way.  I grew out of it.)

When Miss Sadie gets back here, I’ll head over to the Township Hall for whatever remains of the hearing and the Annual Meeting of Electors that follows.  Meanwhile I am listening to Interlochen Public Radio while I still can.  Honestly, there is something seriously wrong with politics in this country these days.  We are awash in ranting, posturing, lying and graft.  It reminds me very much—you knew this was coming, didn’t you?—very much of life in the post-Civil War period.

Deprived of both wheels and camera for awhile, I have been spending even more time than usual immersed in the period.  It’s absolutely astonishing the things a person can ferret out online if a person is obsessed.  Then, of course, a person has to sort through it all.  Saying there is a wealth of information on the internet is like saying there is Gold in Them Thar Hills.  All true, but the problem is extracting it, and then separating the gold from the glittery bits of iron disulfide.  OK, back to the mine.