|I haven't checked the weather today but I think I will as soon as I've finished writing this. For some reason it looks awfully dark outside and it's only 3 PM. I just checked the time on the computer to make sure it is 3 PM and not 3 AM.
Living alone can cause you to make some weird mistakes, not the least of which is confusing the time of day. On a couple of occasions I've awakened from an afternoon nap at 6 PM and thought, "Wow, did I have a long night's sleep." That's a day when I have two breakfasts instead of one and a supper.
Not only is the day very strange but I'm once more having bizarre troubles with my phone.
A while ago I tried calling a number only to get connected with some lady calling someone else. This after telling somebody just this morning that my phone troubles seem to be over.
The problem is a double whammy. Not only am I getting screeching metal and phone calls between strangers, I have been trying to contact someone at the New York Times to no avail. I have been given nine, that's right, nine different numbers to call from the directory, and not one has answered the call. lt's easier to call the White House, believe me.
Okay, so why have I kept trying for so long? I'll tell you why. For more years than I care to tell, I've been an avid New York Times Sunday Crossword addict. For years, we made sure we had the Sunday Times and my happiest moment came when I had the big puzzle before me ready to present the challenge, pen in hand. The kids all knew it was time to back off, Mama likes doing her puzzle. There was always one at hand to do the necessary reference detective work and my husband who knew everything about everything but hated crossword puzzles.
There have been several excellent puzzles editors at the Times. In recent years, however, the job has been held by someone who tries to prove how funny and clever the puzzles can be. This probably would suit Queen Elizabeth, also a crossword nut who loves those dreadful puns and anagrams puzzles in the London Times. I'm not smart enough to do those. I persist, however, buying twenty pound New York Times Sunday puzzle books of 200.
This year, the Saturday-Sunday edition of the Bangor Daily News has carried the previous week's Times Sunday puzzle. This means I have the fun of cutting it out of the paper and doing it after doing the paper's usual puzzle page and the cryptogram which I love.
Now, any puzzle fiend will tell you, it is imperative that you have a copy of the answers to the puzzle at hand so that no stumper goes unsolved. Each week, there has been a solution available until this last Saturday.
No matter how hard I looked I couldn't find the answers. My son helped look in case I had missed it. He found something that made him gasp in disbelief.
At the bottom of the big puzzle, printed in miniscule type was the news that if you wanted the answers you had to call the New York Times and pay for them.
I think you can guess at my reaction to this. I was determined that one day this week I would call the New York Times and demand an accounting for this behavior.
Much good my outrage did me. The minute I picked up the phone I was back in square one with the phone company. As for the New York Times - if the greatest news story ever falls in my lap - see if I call them.