Okay, I’m not too sure about the model name, but Newfie told me to go for it. My last phone, which has grown weary, was an Instinct. Maybe there is nothing in a name, but perhaps the Conquer will put steel in my backbone when I fight my way through customer service menus.

I got a phone for calls, sending quick pictures, the occasional text and the GPS. I don’t need 3-D – I really, really don’t.

This model is so new there are no customer reviews but the preliminary reviewers didn’t find an immediate issue . . . and, of course, Sprint has the 30-day exchange policy.

So, soon, a software update will come down to my new phone and I will be ready to talk. Not that some people are happy about that.

We went to the store and got lots of tortillas (or would that be tortillae?) and some pizza sauce, various cheeses, onions, green peppers, mushrooms, pepperoni and sausage. After digging out a pizza pan and my mother’s pizza stone, we went to town in the kitchen.

We experimented and there was not a failure in the bunch – including the one Der Bingle made with hot pepper cheese, thinking it was mozzarella.

But something in one of the pizzas I ate was the kind of spicy that instigates a riot in the digestive tract, so I am staying close to the bathroom. Very close. Not that you needed to know this, but I seem to be typing it.

I am reminded of a short blurb in The Reader’s Digest from long ago. Two American tourists were sitting on a bench in Egypt, gazing at the Pyramids and one asked the other of what he was thinking. The reply was, “I was wondering when my next diarrhea attack will come.”

Looking back over time, I believe my stomach is stoic (not counting motion sickness); it’s the lower part that will suddenly scream, “AmeliaJake, pay attention to me NOW.”

Were I to become a superhero, that’s the first thing they would have to fix before they could start working on flying or strength or x-ray vision. As of now, I am sitting on a virtual tourist bench hoping those cute little pizzas don’t become an acute problem.

From a day of mowing. Pulling in the back, past the downward driveway, almost to the deck (half of which was crushed in the Great Willow Tree Fall of 2010. My grandpa’s mailbox recycled by Mother. Below: I wanted to get a shot of Shane’s face peeking out from the shady bushes on this hot day, but when I paused the mower to steady the camera, out he came. Do you remember the naissant flowers of last’s week’s mowing? Well, with one more week of sunshine, here they are.
And here is a trumpet vine flower in the breeze. Oh, rats. Loading it from my Mac takes too long, so here is a youtubed translation.

I am hitting the Alka Seltzer Orange Zest (or Zesty Orange) for colds. Also using the nasal inhalers by Vicks – the kind that stick in your nostril and look like a tiny walrus tusk. Indelicate topic, I know but especially fitting if you happen to be using TWO inhalers at the same time. Such usage is not listed in the directions, but one gets desperate, dontcha know?

Der Bingle is back from San Diego and he brought me a shirt from the Cafe Coyote. I should lay it out and take a picture but the cold  – achy muscles, pressing sinuses, ear pressure. One of the men in his party order a Marguerite Grande and Der Bingle reported it was the size of a dinner plate: “It looked like a birdbath – something in which you could go face down and drown.”

It was also blue. I don’t know if it had a special name – My Blue Heaven? –  or not. Fortunately, this fellow was not the designated driver.

Oh . . . I sneezed on my computer screen. And again. So tempted to make a virus pun but am not going to tempt fate. Off to grab kleenex.

Yikes, I am doing a lot of sharing – or foisting off on you – of the stuff I have lately seen on the Internet. Well, so be it.
A couple of days ago when I looking at Jake’s and some homes for sale on the Del Mar beach, I was inspired to check in on Hooked on Houses and see what nifty place was being featured. Ironically, it turned out to be a “beach” house on Sea Island. 

Lisa owns it and I would say Lisa has a lot of money, which is nice. Here home before she remodeled was great and, judging by a picture showing deck and balcony areas that have been incorporated into the house, is arguably greater.

It doesn’t sit on the beach, though; at least not my immediate idea of beach. A quote from the article:

“The light can be breathtaking. Since it is a tidal marsh, it can go from all lush green grasses with only a few tidal pools to 85% water in a matter of hours,” Lisa says and has the photos to prove it.

There is also a photo at sunset on the site. In fact, there are a lot of photos and I would like to photoshop myself into a lot of them.
BUT – an AmeliaJake but – the marsh is crawling right up to my house and when I was checking about creatures in the marsh here, I happened upon comments by Bruce Dunning
Here’s one from this page:
The marsh in this area is as astounding as the open area, and it is highlighted as a must have feature for many. It is a great attraction and spectacular views. Usually the pool in the rear is connected to the marsh area, and abuts against the home property line. There really are wildlife in the marsh and gators as well as snakes.

The bold letters are mine.
Okay, Lisa, I certainly like your home, and your dog is cool, too. A Sea Island home is like an uber upper crust foldover (here & here), but, you know . . . that wildlife.

Sometimes I get carried away with punning; I imagine someday I am going to be literally carried away because of it.

HOWEVER, I must bow to the masters – Anderson Cooper’s writers:

Der Bingle ate dinner last night at one of my favorite places. I wasn’t jealous it did get me thinking and now,because of this place which looks like this

I need 15 MILLION plus 950 THOUSAND dollars . . . and maid money, so I can buy this place.

Of course, this home

is also available but I’d need a few million more and, besides, I think the interior is just not AmeliaJake.

Today, right now, this minute, I am caught up in the turmoil of the first morning of school at East Noble. I consider myself to be overwhelmingly heroic because I am not sitting in a corner with a blanket over my head. Heck, were I like the people going to school, I would not have a blanket over my head anyway because I would claim I could not find it.
If, if, if we can manage it this morning, they will be gone eventually; but then inevitably (pause for deep breath), they will be back.
You know, I think I will just go ahead and plan for a head blanket for tomorrow. I might even get them with the days of the week embroidered on them – like the underpants I used to wear 60 years ago.

Der Bingle has travelled to San Diego; leaving the Ohio Redoubt of the West Facing Cave to the resident bears and visitors from the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse. I think they are having a party this week; he isn’t sure but says the security camera he left is now pointed at the ceiling.

However, some bears were at their duty posts in Minneapolis.

Although, now that I review this picture of the troops, questions arise: Is this a true sentry pose? And the fish? It almost looks as if music could be playing – Raise the fish to dear old Minnesota and sing ’til the rafter ring.
Perhaps, something is fishy here.
Yes, I know. GROAN.