Sending and Receiving Messages - The Universe Responds
Last week, on Good Friday, I was busy preparing some traditional Italian Easter foods - to share with friends, but mostly just to amuse myself. I had donned an appropriate apron from my collection, pulled out my Italian family handed-down recipes, all my baking supplies and tools were arrayed around the kitchen. My fave Motown tunes were playing, and I was in the baking groove.
Once my Ricotta Cheese Easter Pie was poured into my "Lasagna Pan" (Italians always refer to their go-to rectangular pan as the "Lasagna Pan."), I decided it looked so good that I would take a pic and share it with all my family and friends and tag it as my Happy Easter message. I posted my photo to Facebook, Instagram and finally my email. I popped my pie into the oven to bake for an one hour. I was in a cheery mood.
Within minutes, one of my cousins in Florida, with whom I Facebook often but rarely speak to over the phone, actually called me. Apparently, my Happy Easter message had gone viral - sending her multiple copies of my lovely Easter Pie. It all sounded weird to me and just figured it was something flukey with her site or service. I was sure I had done nothing unusual when I posted my photo. Jeeze! I even had my glasses on when I posted.
As my Easter Pie baked, unknown to me, my email service was being barraged by my Happy Easter message repeatedly resending to all my original recipients. Once my pie was baked, I left for Good Friday church services, met friends for dinner, and never looked at my phone or email until late that night.
Wow! Everyone was texting me and leaving me messages everywhere possible that my Easter Pie photo was clogging their messaging service. Yikes! Somehow I had unleashed the wrath of Satan on Good Friday. I was up until the wee hours feverishly attacking my phone, retracing what I could possibly have done wrong when I posted that darn photo of my now not so cheery looking Easter Pie. I set up a test message to my email address, hoping the problem was not my email service.
Saturday morning could not come soon enough - as my email inbox filled with that test message every few minutes. I now more than 100 test messages in my inbox. I could only imagine what was going on with the messaging services of all my recipients. I called my phone provider's tech support. They acted as though such a thing happens often! My friendly tech, who spoke American unaccented English, walked me through cleaning out my cache. Easy enough. Innocently, I thought that was the end of it. Ha!
I quickly checked my own email only to discover that the test email continued to appear every minute or so. More phone calls started to arrive from friends who had received my Happy Easter pie photo. Was it a virus? Was I hacked? Did I cause the problem? Had my service provider experienced some wacky server problem? I contacted my email provider, next. The tech support guy switched me to Tier 2 or 3 support. No one could see anything unusual from their end, even though I had just received a message that my email service was being blocked for suspicious activity. Hmmmmmmm! I had hundreds of test messages showing up wherever I had synced my email address. Was it the syncing that was the problem? No one knew. All Saturday, the same email test message continued to show up in my inbox.
As I was scanning what other messages might have made it into my inbox on Good Friday, I noticed a message from my Tax Accountant, asking me exactly when I had mailed him my tax data so that he could prepare my tax return BEFORE APRIL 15. He had not received my mail package. What? I had sent it over a week ago and had the USPS tracking date and time info to prove that it was delivered to his office a week ago. I called him; not so, he informed me. Oh no! The wrath of Satan continues. So who did receive my package of vital tax info?
Now, I was calling the local USPS office down the road from my accountant's office. Amazingly, and gratefully, a knowledgeable person answered the phone - on the second ring. He quickly found my tracking number in his system and explained what had happened. Apparently, the mail carrier for that particular route could not read my writing and mistakenly translated my "8" in the address as a "0" and delivered all my tax return data to a house down the street from my accountant's office. In my shock and anxiety about my tax return now being delayed until August because my package was now lost forever in some homeowner's trash, I neglected to ask why the carrier had not bothered to READ the NAME of my accountant in the address as a second line of defense from dropping the mail at the wrong address. How long had this guy been delivering on his route?
When I phoned back my accountant, he was nowhere near as concerned as I was, and told me to simply let him know when USPS had found my mail. My friendly USPS guy, John, explained that the regular carrier would leave a note for the guy who had gotten my mail by mistake and ask him to leave it in his box for the carrier to redeliver. Apparently, the carrier could not just go knock on the guy's door because the yard was completely fenced in with two big dogs constantly guarding the place. John was really intimately involved in my particular case, which made me feel confident that my particular issue was in good hands. John requested I call him on Monday to follow-up. I promised I would call him - during east coast business hours.
Easter Sunday arrived and all seemed fine with the world. My email service appeared to be back to normal. No test messages showing up anywhere I viewed my email - phone, Internet, or Outlook.
Then, on Monday morning I opened my phone, clicked and opened my email. Boom! There was a message that I needed to set up a new password because my service had locked me out due to suspicious activity. Back to square one. As I attempted to follow the instructions to set up a new password, the site refused to accept anything I entered. Now, the reset password site was locked. After a fruitless weekend of attempting to speak with a tech person who could actually help, I decided to just "trust in the Universe" and wait a few more hours.
I then turned my attention to the little problem of my tax return data being held hostage by some guy in NJ who lives on a main thoroughfare behind a chain link fence with two big dogs. I called John at the NJ USPS office. He explained that early that morning, he had spoken to the regular carrier for that route and he would do his best to get my package to my accountant on the other end of the street. I was asked to call back in the afternoon. "Trust in the Universe."
It worked! About 5 hours later, I was able to re-enter the reset password site for my email service and create a new access password. There was a message waiting for me in my email inbox from my accountant in NJ: My package had finally arrived at his office. Life had returned to normal.
I decided to focus on my other little personal inconvenience: A few weeks ago another (No. 3 in a series) rock squirrel had decided to set up residence outside our backyard property wall that separates our place from the service alley. According to our AZ Animal Experts animal removal service, our prickly pear lined wall was a perfectly safe place for rock squirrels to set up housekeeping, since no predator would ever venture into prickly pear cacti. The first evidence I had of this particular rock squirrel's presence was about a week ago. A hole had suddenly appeared, strategically placed in the middle of our back lawn. I almost tripped over the hole because it was hidden in plain site - tucked into the lawn landscape. No fresh dirt surrounding it, it looked much like a golf putting hole. This particular squirrel had been tunneling under our lawn and patio while removing all the dirt outside to the other side of our wall into the alley. By the time my friendly animal removal expert pointed out the pile of desert sand located up against the wall and hidden behind a huge prickly pear cactus, the pile was huge! I could just imagine an entire family of rock squirrels enjoying life in an interior containing three bedrooms, two baths, a brand new kitchen with a cozy fireplace in the family room.
Marc and Jeff from AZ Animal Experts had been tag teaming my squirrel problem the entire week before Easter. Three live traps had been set up hidden among the prickly pears and stocked with little goodies that rock squirrels enjoy.
Within two days, a female had taken the bait and Marc had come to pick here up and transport her to a nicer home far, far, far away from our house. The other two traps had remained untouched the rest of the week. I finally made it out to the back alley to check on them on Saturday and discovered that the traps were gone. I hoped that meant that Marc or Jeff had come by and picked them up when I was not home on Friday. Had any other rock squirrels ventured into the traps? I would have to remember to call them on Monday, get a report; and an invoice. "Trust in the Universe."
Later, on a trip out to the mailbox, I noticed something stuffed into the door jam of the front door. There was my invoice and a note from Marc. No additional family members found in the traps. I was now protected from future visitors with a sprayed shield of coyote urine.
Always, trust in the Universe.
Last week, on Good Friday, I was busy preparing some traditional Italian Easter foods - to share with friends, but mostly just to amuse myself. I had donned an appropriate apron from my collection, pulled out my Italian family handed-down recipes, all my baking supplies and tools were arrayed around the kitchen. My fave Motown tunes were playing, and I was in the baking groove.
Once my Ricotta Cheese Easter Pie was poured into my "Lasagna Pan" (Italians always refer to their go-to rectangular pan as the "Lasagna Pan."), I decided it looked so good that I would take a pic and share it with all my family and friends and tag it as my Happy Easter message. I posted my photo to Facebook, Instagram and finally my email. I popped my pie into the oven to bake for an one hour. I was in a cheery mood.
Within minutes, one of my cousins in Florida, with whom I Facebook often but rarely speak to over the phone, actually called me. Apparently, my Happy Easter message had gone viral - sending her multiple copies of my lovely Easter Pie. It all sounded weird to me and just figured it was something flukey with her site or service. I was sure I had done nothing unusual when I posted my photo. Jeeze! I even had my glasses on when I posted.
As my Easter Pie baked, unknown to me, my email service was being barraged by my Happy Easter message repeatedly resending to all my original recipients. Once my pie was baked, I left for Good Friday church services, met friends for dinner, and never looked at my phone or email until late that night.
Wow! Everyone was texting me and leaving me messages everywhere possible that my Easter Pie photo was clogging their messaging service. Yikes! Somehow I had unleashed the wrath of Satan on Good Friday. I was up until the wee hours feverishly attacking my phone, retracing what I could possibly have done wrong when I posted that darn photo of my now not so cheery looking Easter Pie. I set up a test message to my email address, hoping the problem was not my email service.
Saturday morning could not come soon enough - as my email inbox filled with that test message every few minutes. I now more than 100 test messages in my inbox. I could only imagine what was going on with the messaging services of all my recipients. I called my phone provider's tech support. They acted as though such a thing happens often! My friendly tech, who spoke American unaccented English, walked me through cleaning out my cache. Easy enough. Innocently, I thought that was the end of it. Ha!
I quickly checked my own email only to discover that the test email continued to appear every minute or so. More phone calls started to arrive from friends who had received my Happy Easter pie photo. Was it a virus? Was I hacked? Did I cause the problem? Had my service provider experienced some wacky server problem? I contacted my email provider, next. The tech support guy switched me to Tier 2 or 3 support. No one could see anything unusual from their end, even though I had just received a message that my email service was being blocked for suspicious activity. Hmmmmmmm! I had hundreds of test messages showing up wherever I had synced my email address. Was it the syncing that was the problem? No one knew. All Saturday, the same email test message continued to show up in my inbox.
As I was scanning what other messages might have made it into my inbox on Good Friday, I noticed a message from my Tax Accountant, asking me exactly when I had mailed him my tax data so that he could prepare my tax return BEFORE APRIL 15. He had not received my mail package. What? I had sent it over a week ago and had the USPS tracking date and time info to prove that it was delivered to his office a week ago. I called him; not so, he informed me. Oh no! The wrath of Satan continues. So who did receive my package of vital tax info?
Now, I was calling the local USPS office down the road from my accountant's office. Amazingly, and gratefully, a knowledgeable person answered the phone - on the second ring. He quickly found my tracking number in his system and explained what had happened. Apparently, the mail carrier for that particular route could not read my writing and mistakenly translated my "8" in the address as a "0" and delivered all my tax return data to a house down the street from my accountant's office. In my shock and anxiety about my tax return now being delayed until August because my package was now lost forever in some homeowner's trash, I neglected to ask why the carrier had not bothered to READ the NAME of my accountant in the address as a second line of defense from dropping the mail at the wrong address. How long had this guy been delivering on his route?
When I phoned back my accountant, he was nowhere near as concerned as I was, and told me to simply let him know when USPS had found my mail. My friendly USPS guy, John, explained that the regular carrier would leave a note for the guy who had gotten my mail by mistake and ask him to leave it in his box for the carrier to redeliver. Apparently, the carrier could not just go knock on the guy's door because the yard was completely fenced in with two big dogs constantly guarding the place. John was really intimately involved in my particular case, which made me feel confident that my particular issue was in good hands. John requested I call him on Monday to follow-up. I promised I would call him - during east coast business hours.
Easter Sunday arrived and all seemed fine with the world. My email service appeared to be back to normal. No test messages showing up anywhere I viewed my email - phone, Internet, or Outlook.
Then, on Monday morning I opened my phone, clicked and opened my email. Boom! There was a message that I needed to set up a new password because my service had locked me out due to suspicious activity. Back to square one. As I attempted to follow the instructions to set up a new password, the site refused to accept anything I entered. Now, the reset password site was locked. After a fruitless weekend of attempting to speak with a tech person who could actually help, I decided to just "trust in the Universe" and wait a few more hours.
I then turned my attention to the little problem of my tax return data being held hostage by some guy in NJ who lives on a main thoroughfare behind a chain link fence with two big dogs. I called John at the NJ USPS office. He explained that early that morning, he had spoken to the regular carrier for that route and he would do his best to get my package to my accountant on the other end of the street. I was asked to call back in the afternoon. "Trust in the Universe."
It worked! About 5 hours later, I was able to re-enter the reset password site for my email service and create a new access password. There was a message waiting for me in my email inbox from my accountant in NJ: My package had finally arrived at his office. Life had returned to normal.
I decided to focus on my other little personal inconvenience: A few weeks ago another (No. 3 in a series) rock squirrel had decided to set up residence outside our backyard property wall that separates our place from the service alley. According to our AZ Animal Experts animal removal service, our prickly pear lined wall was a perfectly safe place for rock squirrels to set up housekeeping, since no predator would ever venture into prickly pear cacti. The first evidence I had of this particular rock squirrel's presence was about a week ago. A hole had suddenly appeared, strategically placed in the middle of our back lawn. I almost tripped over the hole because it was hidden in plain site - tucked into the lawn landscape. No fresh dirt surrounding it, it looked much like a golf putting hole. This particular squirrel had been tunneling under our lawn and patio while removing all the dirt outside to the other side of our wall into the alley. By the time my friendly animal removal expert pointed out the pile of desert sand located up against the wall and hidden behind a huge prickly pear cactus, the pile was huge! I could just imagine an entire family of rock squirrels enjoying life in an interior containing three bedrooms, two baths, a brand new kitchen with a cozy fireplace in the family room.
Marc and Jeff from AZ Animal Experts had been tag teaming my squirrel problem the entire week before Easter. Three live traps had been set up hidden among the prickly pears and stocked with little goodies that rock squirrels enjoy.
Within two days, a female had taken the bait and Marc had come to pick here up and transport her to a nicer home far, far, far away from our house. The other two traps had remained untouched the rest of the week. I finally made it out to the back alley to check on them on Saturday and discovered that the traps were gone. I hoped that meant that Marc or Jeff had come by and picked them up when I was not home on Friday. Had any other rock squirrels ventured into the traps? I would have to remember to call them on Monday, get a report; and an invoice. "Trust in the Universe."
Later, on a trip out to the mailbox, I noticed something stuffed into the door jam of the front door. There was my invoice and a note from Marc. No additional family members found in the traps. I was now protected from future visitors with a sprayed shield of coyote urine.
Always, trust in the Universe.
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