Kimmy’s Garden

On Monday, March 19, Rattlesnake (aka Rat the white cat), my friend of over 13 years, was euthanized after experiencing FLUTD or FUS , plus a build up of toxins in his already anemic blood due to kidney failure.

We first met, on February 13, 1994, he was between 2-3 years old. My family took me to the SPCA to find a cat. I was really looking for a little ginger tabby. It was quite late in the evening, and most of cats were sleeping or resting. I first approached the cage of a sleepy orange cat who meowed at me. But then, like a crazy rock fan, there was this dirty grey foot sticking out of another cage on the other side of the room that belonged to a howlingly sporty & playful grey cat with a black nose. I just couldn’t decide. One of the helpers at the SPCA let me know that it was 2-for-1 with cats. Well, I took them both home to my basement suite on 76 avenue. Picked them up on Monday: Valentine’s Day.

The grey cat was actually white after I washed him. Snow white with a black nose, and he shook the end of his tail like a rattlesnake when he played, or was mad. And so, I named him Rattlesnake. Rat for short. Rat was not neutered at that point, and he loved to mark his territory - and did continue to mark his territory for the rest of his life - above all, to communicate to anyone, especially any man, in his territory that HE was the Alpha male: wherever Ryan sat, on Brian’s shoes, Josh’s dirty clothes, clean clothes… on Michael’s nap-sack, jacket, briefcase, my mom’s coat, my father-in-law’s socks - while he was wearing them. In fact, Rat determined that anything in his personal space - from the floor up to where he could scratch his chin - was open season for marking.

We moved to an apartment in the Ottewell area, and a little kitten came into Rat’s life. Grrly. Wanting to hunt her for the first two weeks, Rat actually became her protector - from Bob - and would wrap himself around her when they slept. She fit right in his lap.

Rat was quite a hunter of birds, and mice, and insects. The birds I could always let go when he brought them to me because he was actually that gentle. The compost-bin mice were not so lucky. Flies, spiders, and butterflies were his favorite snacks. Oh, and fishing was his favorite past-time.

Rat was a very social cat, and loved to visit the neighbours. And their cats. His best friend in the world was a grand black cat named Taxi when we lived on 111 street. Rat was a large male, but Taxi was even bigger. Rat would actually go over to Taxi’s house and spend the afternoon, have supper there, and sometimes spend the night. Taxi would come over to our house as well, but I would always kick him out at night. Of course, while I worried about why Rat hadn’t come home, I finally met Taxi’s guardian who told me that she really enjoyed Rat’s company, and thought that it was so bizarre how they got along so well.

Then we moved to a house on 98 avenue, where he sunbathed on the neighbours’ patios on either side of us. Despite being quite a fan of peeing in sun-kissed dirt, Rat was always a welcome guest next-door.

Rat was a good friend. When Bob disappeared for three and a half months in 2002, Rat continued to look for him, meowling for him two or three times a day.

Ah yes, darling little nemesis of my husband for 6 years.When I got married, the boys and Grrly cat came to live with us as well, of course. After the return of Bob, I vowed never to let the cats outside, unsupervised, again. And so Rat would somehow get away knowing that I would sooner chase after Bob first. He took advantage of that & hopped that fence when I turned my back. Sometimes, he would just hide in a tree to drive me crazy looking for him. Then, and only then, would he come when Michael called him to the house. We decided to try a harness.

Rat, wrapped up in throat collar and waist collar, would slither down with his tummy flat on the grass, very unhappy. Michael held on to the leash & they would “walk” around the yard for some sniffs. However, one dewy day, Rat got away with the harness, so Michael jogged a bit to catch the leash. Michael got the leash, but then Rat, looking back at this guy running behind him panicked and started to run. Michael tripped, wratched his knee in the fall, and Rat, like a sled-dog, actually pulled him down the yard about two or three metres before he escaped from the harness. This is only one of the his many attempts to do Michael in. We won’t mention the down-the-stairs-death-trap, and the face-as-a-landing-pad incidents.

Rat has left his mark on many people, literally and spiritually, and of course, a few scratches to remember him by as well. Rat was an amateur singer, a foot warmer, a window frame shredder, a bed-hog, a demon for wet food and fresh water dripping from the tap; he was my confidante, a great snuggler, and so gentle with his razor-like claws when he played catch the string. I will always miss him.

Dishwasher. I was one once at Earl’s on Campus for about 3 months back in the late 80’s. Why do people who work at Earl’s hang out there after their shift is done, or even on days they don’t work? Too cool for me. Any way, two sentences in and I digress…

Our dishwacher went caputs back in April of this year, and for people who know me know I hate spending money on useless crap that I could live without. Well now, it has been several months without one and although I could live without one I believe that it would be best for our marriage to in fact get one again. I decided this back in August during the height of rugby season when I was not home much and when I was home I did dishes.

Anyway, following several friends’ advice I went to Trail Appliances. Super salesman, Mr. RS, I thought at the time. I did my research and decided on a Maytag, checked the Brick and Sears as well, and went with R at Trail * (name not changed because I was really disappointed in the service). Bought it on Thursday, Aug 3rd, for an admittedly estimated delivery date of Friday, Aug 25th. That’s 3 weeks, no problem. Estimated date, ok, so R was supposed to call me on the 17th to confirm the delivery date, or to give me a better idea so I can figure out a plumber. No call.

I call him on Wednesday, Aug 23rd. Left a voice mail. I call him on Thursday, Aug 24th, left ANOTHER voice mail asking if the dishwasher is in fact coming on Friday the 25th. I call again that Thursday afternoon. Receptionist refused to let me speak with R because he was busy with a customer and that there was a big sale on that weekend. Well, I tell her, really, I am a current customer who has already spent $800 on something for which I am receiving absolutely zero customer service. Actually, poor customer service would be a negative number. Would I like to leave another voice mail? NO, thanks, he has already ignored three of my previous messages. And I still don’t know if the day I have taken off - the Friday off - if I have to stay at home. So I call back and ask for Dispatch. Finally! people who know what’s going on, and care to tell me. No, no dishwasher is being delivered on Friday.

Oh!! R calls me back Friday afternoon to tell me they can deliver the dishwasher Saturday, during one of the semi-final matches of the Womens Rugby World Cup at which I am a Match Official, and BTW the 25th was only an estimated delivery date. Yes, R, I know, and that is why you said you would CALL ME to let me know when (TF) it was going to be delivered. No can do Saturday, R, I am busy. How about Monday? Fine, I will take that day off, too!!! Note to self, now this dishwasher is costing me $400 more than at the beginning due to taking days off … sigh.

Monday morning, expecting a call from Trail Appliance Dispatch as to when my dishwasher will be delivered, I receive, again, no call. No call by 10am, no call by noon. Super. I call Trail Appliances again to see where (TF) the dishwasher is. OK, so my favorite C in Dispatch has the unfortunate duty of telling me that when the “guys” were loading it in the morning, they noticed that the machine was damaged, (sigh), so it will be another three (F) weeks before they can deliver another one. WTF? Well, while I appreciate the eagle-eyes noticing that before they hauled it to my house, who do I speak to about a refund? Dispatch forwarded me to Ms. P.
I arrive there on Tuesday, and the Receptionist - who will not be receiving Receptionist of the Year BTW - tells me I cannot get a refund without speaking to the Salesman RS. Well, I can tell you that the Salesman will also prefer not to talk to me. May I please speak to Ms. P? She’s busy. Well, can you please tell her it is Kim Groome, we spoke yesterday on the phone. I am sure that this won’t take 5 minutes. And so, after waiting 22 minutes and loitering in the gas stove and BBQ areas, and BTW she does not cover your personal info on the Invoices sitting at the front desk so that freaks like me know where you live and when you are getting a delivery of your new LG washer & dryer Mr. DT on 149th Street, I was received by Ms. P and she gave me a full refund without hassle. In fact, she was the only good experience about this. Except the fact that she put the refund reason as being out-of-stock, when I would have preferred:

worst-follow-up-service-ever-let’s-learn-from-this-experience.

Their loss.

Then I went to the Brick and was hustled by a Salesman who wanted to sell me dishwasher that was 1.25 inches too tall for my counter hole. And then the Sears guy was trying to tell me that the only delivery fee was $170, for full service. Well, I just want it delivered, man, how about a cool $50? (sigh) Where are the good Salespeople? Tell me.

So, my hunt for a dishwasher has been put on pause for now.

At the ultra sound place at Tawa Centre with my hubby this morning, one of the receptionists asked a fellow what his last name was after he was examined. In front of everyone. With a tone like “Oops, how was I supposed to know, tee hee”. The guy is a bit embarassed, but tells her, “Oh, it’s OK, I get that all the time …”

No, it’s not OK.

First of all, I think that that should have been done in private so that the guy - who is in the middle of walking out anonymously with some sort of lubricant dripping out or off of wherever - is not thinking that the whole place is thinking: “Oh, so his last name is Lloyd*, interesting”. And then the guy is standing there, not sure now if he can leave, if the transaction is finished, if his medical test results are going to be filed or sent correctly, slightly embarassed like he has just done his first stand up comedy routine that didn’t go as well as planned and is accidentally making an encore performance by walking into the crowd instead of backstage … and we’re puzzled to see him back.

(*name changed to protect privacy)

Second of all, if the receptionist didn’t know the first time that they spoke, why did she not ask then? Don’t just assume. Do we not all know this? ASK. CONFIRM. These are important health records that need to be organized correctly, efficiently … We all know how busy the health services places are these days, and it simply more efficient to get things done right the first time, the only-touch-it-once filing philosophy.

I would like to suggest to any educational facility that teaches Reception, Administration, Data Entry, whatever, that they include either a cultural sensitivity-cum-common sense objective, or even better, to stop using the terms First and Last name. Start using FAMILY NAME and GIVEN NAME. Some groups of people, like those with a Chinese background, use their family name first, then their given name(s). How can we get public service to not be so freaking WASP? Seriously. How do we learn if we don’t ask?

Just annoys me.

OK, so Tuesday and Thurday mornings I get up, prepare my tea, and head off to Stats class for 8h30. At 11h30 I have the lab for this course, two times a week. First day of Lab, and may I add that the TA is very sweet, asks us to work in groups. $#!+. This is what I am thinking. I am sitting there, logged in to a computer in the second row, and boom, what sits beside me is a cutsie female, on her cell phone, texting her friends or whatever, whining to the hotty guy beside her in a I-don’t-know-how-to-do-this-can-you-show-me sort of sound.

Now, first of all, how can I not stand females pretending to be dumb in order to get attention from a male. So annoying. But the fact that we are supposed to be working in groups - with this sort of a partner - no thanks. I am taking this course for pleasure, not for frustration. So next lab I decide to show up late, so that I can choose with whom I will work. And then we worked on an independant MS Excel project. (Sigh)

OK, next lab, must show up a bit late again so that I can choose again. Oops, now the sweet TA is asking me if the lab times are not working out for me because I seem to come in late … now I feel like an @$$. And I am ashamed, but I am sitting beside s/o who looks like a good lab partner. Ah! Never sit in the middle of a row, beside an empty seat so that s/o else can sit beside you, changing the pair-up possibilities. Crap. So, here I think that I have picked a great spot, and who sits beside me, cell-phone girl. And anyhow, the original person who I picked ends up on E-Bay trying to buy concert tickets during the lab - now I have duds on both sides of me. Ai ya!

So, here I am doing all of my Stats homework, almost pulling out my hair on Conditional Probability, what the #e!! was I thinking originally? And I get to the question: If five applicants are pulled from a stack of 30 résumés, and only 5 are really decent candidats, what are your chances of pulling at least one of the 5 best?
Lets replace applicants with 5 other Good Lab Partners:

30 lab attendees, 4 per group, and lets assume that I am a good one ;-b…
that leaves 29 total left for 3 spots … 4 other Good partners left
= C to the 3 of 29 is 2,375,100 possible combinations of 3 other lab partners. The probability of getting at least 1 of the 4 other Good Partners (g) would be …

A = made of mini- events = {e1, 1 of g; e2, 2 of g; e3, 3 of g}.
P(A)=P(e1)+P(e2)+P(e3)
P(e1)=g1 or g2 or g3 or g4 =(1/29*28/28*27/27)*4=(756/21924)*4
P(e2)=(g1&g2)+(g1&g3)+(g1&g4)+(g2&g3)+(g2&g4)+(g3&g4)=
P(e2) … = (1/29*1/28*27/27)*6=(27/21924)*6
P(e3)=(g1&g2&g3)+(g1&g2&g4)+(g1&g3&g4)+(g2&g3&g4)=
P(e3) … = (1/29*1/28*1/27)*4=(1/21924)*4
P(A)=0.13793+0.00739+0.00018=0.1455=14.6%

Actually, that’s not bad … of course, the odds and actual events are

so

not the same …

I better think about this more … confirm my calculations

My darling loved-ones, you really do not have to get me a Christmas present. I have too much already. Really. I need to simplify. And I know that you also know that I really need nothing, because you just don’t know what to get me. And you don’t want to give me cash because you think it is in bad taste … so you decide to get me a gift card - one of those cute colourful gift cards that stare you in the face by the check-out counter that you end up staring back at while you are forced to stand in line, wondering what wonderful things I could buy for myself at this wonderful store. And, well shoot, you’re at the cashier and so there is not much time to ask questions about the cards. And frighteningly their popularity is spreading like an epidemic. Here’s a quick and nasty economic lesson:

Let me begin by asking you: did you know that merch is put by the cash register for impulse buying? Before, it wasn’t so bad when it was just a pack of gum, or a bar of chocolate, maybe a lighter or some batteries that you never seem to remember to buy anyway. However, now these gift cards are BIG TICKET impulse items, ranging from $10 to more than $250. Whatever amount you want! How much is your loved one worth? A lot to you, but unfortunately that fact means a lot more to the store …

… even more if you lose it! Sorry. Non-replacable. OK, so neither is cash - but, be very careful because a shiny slippery unfamiliar gift card is much more easy to lose than lovely worn-in well known cash - we really are a too-many-card-carrying society, and we get a bit too loose with them. I can tell you that working with the public, when clients are searching through their wallets for their necessary client card they have no less than 10 cards in their wallets, some up to 50! Stacks and piles in elastics, in daytimers, in pockets. Anyway, I digress.

Now, the stores do not tell you that from the $100 with which you buy the card they will be taking from $1.00 to $2.50 off of the card per month, for “administration purposes”. For example, if you bought the gift card in November for $100, it is only worth $98.00 in December, and then $96.00 in January, etc. And from another angle, if you kept your $100 in the bank for November it would be worth $100.30 in December, if you’re lucky. See? The store makes better interest off you than they would off the bank.

Even worse, after a year these gift cards and certificates EXPIRE. Yes, your cold hard cash that is valid Canadian currency - $100 in 5 crisp new $20 bills of good’ol canadian linen that you can touch, wash, smell, count, write notes on, and stick under your mattress for a CENTURY if you wanted - has been reduced to a simple, earth littering 2″ x 3″ colourful plastic chit of temporary value.

What are the stores thinking? “If this sweet loved-one likes the look of our cards and gives us their money, then that forces the loved-one’s loved-one to shop at OUR store. And the beauty of it? We get to keep the loved-one’s money even if the loved-one’s loved-one NEVER EVEN comes through the door! Sick. How can stores do this? Because we buy into it. And why? Because we are thinking of doing something nice for our loved-ones. And we don’t talk about it.

You see, the stores are trying to balance out their after-Christmas winter dive in the consumer graph. “Get them to spend now on nothing, for something that they collect or cash in later because it seems like its free - then they will feel like going out & spend a bit more in January and February, or they will forget altogether! Yeah! Then free money for us”. And who actually spends $20 exactly, including GST, tip, etc.? It will either be slightly more than $20 (in order to get rid of the card you will pay 5$ or 10$) or slightly less - after which you will most likely toss the card. Again, free money for them. As well, the stores can declare this money when they want, because when you buy the gift card you haven’t really bought anything yet - and so have not paid GST on it. Get it? It was a straight trade: cash for a card that is sort of like cash. Hmmm. Sort of like money laundering, but at least with money laundering a buck is still a buck. Somehow and by one way or another the gift card’s value disappears.

By our human nature we are hoarders, we collect airline miles, grocery points, gas station points, stuff, and above all- cards. And, let’s not talk about the ones that I still have - from restaurants, hardware stores, and department stores - and that I never used because I don’t usually eat there, go there, shop there. And let’s certainly not talk about the times that I do remember and attempt to use the gift certificate or card that I had placed in the kitchen drawer … and the certifcate is expired, or there is only $35 left on what was a $50 card to begin with. I would really like to know the statistics on # of cards bought and original $ value to # of cards cashed in and $ value when cashed in. I wonder what consumer group could gather that info for us. I suspect that the results would be rather eye-opening.

Don’t even get me started on the occasions of fraudulent use of these cards.

Finally, your cold hard cash could be spent ANYWHERE, even four different anywheres; whereas, the gift card or certificate is only good for that one franchise family.

Think twice about gift cards and certificates. Ask the business when the certificate is going to expire, if and how you can re-activate it, and how much the administration charge or maintenance fee is per month - before buying. And get the answer from Management. It’s for everyone’s good, except the stores that is. So again, please don’t worry about getting me a gift. But if you feel that you have to, please, please, please do not buy me a gift card.