Borrowing a Library Book, or Down the Merry Trail to the Witch's House, Muah Ha Ha!

I just spent all morning trying to borrow a library book on my Kindle. 

I’ve borrowed books before, no problem.  But I had to put a hold on this one, and the email came that it was ready.  However, when I went to retrieve it, the library said I had no holds.  Hmmmm.  I called the library, who said that aha, you’ve been borrowing epub books heretofore.  This book was on Overdrive, and that I had to link my Kindle to Amazon. 

My Kindle said it was linked and registered and married and joined and other official unions with Amazon.  Amazon, spitting like an estranged spouse, said no way, never heard of you.

Hmmm.

When in doubt, call someone who can deal with modern techno-times.  I tend to be in the steam age, overheating, blowing gaskets, and running amok.  To tell you the truth, even steam is a bit advance.  Give me a wood stove.

So I got daughter on the phone.  Her pronouncement: “I’m telling Dad to never buy you any more technology for Christmas.  How can you not figure out iTunes?  A Kindle?  You have the worst luck with technology I’ve ever seen.”  She laughed when she said it.  I was not offended in the least.  It was true and at last someone was offering up well deserved pity.  

She was very helpful, and we finally figured out that I did not possess the Overdrive app which was required to get the books.  Why was that not something the library said in BIG LETTERS on their site?  Daughter said it was.  I sure couldn’t find where. 

Daughter said that everyone else seems to be able to walk down the techno trail, but somehow I always wind up at the witch’s house.  It’s true.  Technology appears so nice and appealing!  Let's get Mom this iTunes, she'll love it.  Or a Kindle.  Oh, look a candy house, let's go eat some.  Muah, ha, ha!!

When I was in the 6^th grade, Dad read in Sunset magazine that one simply must visit the Anza-Borrego desert in the spring and see the luxuriant cactus blooms.  The desert would be carpeted with flowers, it promised.

So off we went in the Chevy.  I was allowed to bring along my friend, Debbie. 

It was everything that Sunset promised.  Spectacular day that I long remembered after moving from San Diego to Illinois and struggling with transplant shock of cold weather.

I longed for the dry heat of the desert, the glorious cactus blooms, and friends from my former home, most of all Debbie.  I had a little cactus garden in the window of our Illinois house.  I’d stand there in the sun and sing my favorite songs from earlier days.  Someday I’d go back, I vowed.

Years later, when spring rolled around once more, I decided that I really must go back out to see the Anza-Borrego desert bloom.  It was after a particularly rainy winter and the newspapers were full of raves about the blossoming spring at the Anza-Borrego.  I loaded my parents and two girls into the car and off we went for a happy day.  La, la, la.

Driving along, I was determined to stop and see all the pretty sights.  A giant sign said: Cholla Gardens!

Yippee!  Cholla Gardens!  What might they be?  We pulled over, expecting a delightful walk.  Fortunately, my parents did not want to go as Dad couldn’t walk very well after his stroke.

The girls and I entered the “Cholla Gardens!”  Warning!  Warning!  Beware of inviting signs beckoning you to the Cholla Gardens.  Gardens, the sign said.  Puh-leese.  Cholla Hell would be more apt.  There were admittedly, a few flowers.  But we quickly noticed that we were stepping on thorns, even though we did not leave the trail.  The thorns were simply everywhere. 

The girls were crying, as they went straight into their shoes.  When I attempted to pick them out with my fingers, the microscopic barbs stuck so that my fingers were now hooked to their shoes.  I yanked my fingers from the thorns and we got out of there as fast as we could.

Back at the car, we found our shoes were covered with these spiky thorns.  I tried pulling them out with a rag, but they were so tenacious I could not get them out.  I used my Swiss Army knife and managed to dig them out with the knife and yank with the tweezers.  It took an hour of work, but we got our shoes restored to wearability.

Don’t follow ME when I’m exploring the desert!  You may not want to follow my down the techno trail, either.

But I got my library book at last.  What was it about?  A woman’s long walk up the Pacific Crest Trail.  I wonder if she ran into the Cholla Gardens?