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Extended warranties and no do-overs.

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I was emailing with a friend the other day...and we were talking about appliances. He told me what store he liked...shopping for his apartment appliances was easy there, and they were responsive to him, and they resolved issues.  Who could ask for more? He did mention that he never bought any extended warranties. Extended warranties aren't worth the extra $$$.

So I started thinking about extended warranties. Extended warranties cost a bunch of money and they may give you confidence for the 'what ifs' coming around the corner. But I'm not sure if I've ever heard of an extended warranty being used.

Those sales folks would rather make money on me buying it, because they have confidence that I won't use it until the day after the extended warranty expires. I think that's called 'useful life.'

So, I wondered if I was offered an extended warranty for my own life...would I buy into it? Hhmm, I think not.

When it's time to call it a day (or a life) I th…

Apples...buh bye. Hurricanes, please go away.

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A few weeks ago, I had Sal, my landscaper, and his crew over for at least 3 full days.

To everything there is a season. Turn. Turn. Turn.

It was time for the apple tree to come down. Part of the trunk was dead/dying. The good news was that I couldn't see it. That was also the bad news, because I couldn't see it. After the severe rains this past winter, everything was beaten up on the outside... the paint on the exterior of the house, the carriage house, the apple tree, and me just getting in and out of the car in the wet weather.

To everything there is a season. Turn. Turn. Turn. 


I've made apple pies and applesauce. 
I've sliced up apples using my corer, peeler, and slicing device.

I've kept those sliced apples frozen, until I needed them for dinner or desserts.

I still have the remains of the crop from last year in my freezer.

To everything there is a season. Turn. Turn. Turn.

We've been here nearly 30 years. The apple tree was blooming when we bought the place…

Almost Christmas

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follow me on my weekly Alameda Real Estate blog....MarilynSchumacher.com 
It was the end of June. I don't know why we were thinking about holiday letters, but my dear friend, Debbie, and I started doing exactly that. Maybe we just needed to laugh...and laugh we did.


If I'm not driving I write most of my thoughts on my phone. I've been known to stop my bike when something strikes me as funny or interesting or witty. After all, that's what phones are for: writing.

Here's our holiday letter (our year in review):

It's been a good year. The kids had their 'firsts":
-Johnny lost his first tooth while Tommie was practicing his golf shot with his father's new club. 
-Mary got her period. 
-Jane gave up her virginity. 
-We lost our house due to foreclosure.  
-And our health insurance got canceled because we couldn't afford the premiums.

Our car's in the shop for a bit after Leonard (hubby) mistakenly told the car to park itself and realized too late that…

Fog...Eclipse

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Follow me on my Alameda Real Estate blog...marilynschumacher.com
I don't always pay attention to current events. I don't do Twitter, don't feed my Facebook pages too often. I guess I'm rather anti-social. No, anti-social media. Who has the time? Well, I guess our President does. I think he takes his cell phone to bed with him.

I knew there was an eclipse. I knew our town would be in the path of it...only 75% of the sun obscured. Not the "Totality."

Sunday evening I decided I needed to get some eclipse glasses. Every store said "Really? NO!" Besides, I was quite sure we would be fogged-in, because that's what we do during the summers...get fogged in, and then we get un-fogged by about noon. Being an island in San Francisco Bay, we've learned to live with the fog. It beats the heat just a few miles inland!

The internet told me where I could go...but the internet couldn't guarantee 2 things:
1. That I could get the proper glasses.
2. That I…

Expectations and perfection.

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Expectations

-I buy a pineapple. I paid full price. But when I take it home, it's brown inside, not golden. I toss most of it away.

-I figured out how to use a new program on my computer. I turn the restart button on and nothing looks the same. What' up with dat?

-I've taken two live webinars (the second one today) to try and figure out how another program that's been 'updated' works with respect to my biz. It's a  monversation.  Get it? Not a conversation. I think I'm the only one confused.

-I hire a company to wash my windows inside and out, and power wash the house, annually. Four guys show up. Very nice, with matching shirts. One of them was here last year. Next thing I know, they're powering washing my outdoor wooden storage shed on my back porch...with everything still in it! Electrical cords. Plant food. My garden tools. My baskets. All soaked. I stopped them before they did more damage. I gave them homemade chocolate chip cookies (without nu…

Sign here....

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I've been thinking about how I sign my name.

You need to sign when you use a debit or credit card. But what does that mean? 
Back in the day, it meant you signed with a pen, and you got a receipt with that signature, because you were signing in triplicate. Those days are long gone, duh.
Vendors still need to have you sign your name. Well, maybe not your name. You just need to sign....something that doesn't even look like your name. 
I was talking with a friend the other afternoon, and I wanted to know what 'makes' a good signature. I sign my name very different now, than I did 10, 20, 30, and certainly more than 40 years ago. How does an official know what you signature looks like now vs. then?
Then Joe told me, just that day, he signed using his nose, on that electronic ink pad. I said "You've got to be kidding me!"
His response was "My nose is cleaner than a finger that's been in a nose."
Touchee.
Live richly, marilyn
ps. follow me on my Al…

DMV, the great equalizer.

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Everybody is treated the same.
Everybody has a number.
Everybody gets in the same lines.
Everybody has a number that the 'fake lady' (computer) calls out, monotonously, but evenly.
Everybody speaks a different native tongue.

Except for people like me. "Un petit peu," that about does it for my French.

Nobody gets mad, and if they are frustrated it doesn't show too much. Nobody wants to get thrown under the (DMV) bus...because each of us has a purpose in being there. The primary goal is...get in and then just get outta there. Don't say too much. Yes, sir. No ma'am.

Once I passed the point of no return (after over an hour in line, outside, in the heat), I was inside for at least 30 minutes before I was assigned to the G group. When I started looking at the number 'she' was calling, it was number 88. I was 118. This could be a long day.

The DMV has a TV channel...maybe it's called DMV - TV. No movies, mostly ads. I can't even remember what …