Gunther and the ten-foot projection screen

Wednesday, March 29 @ 1402

I returned home from the United Postal Service office where I took a package 7 by 7 by 120 inches.  I carried it across town in our car with about five feet of it sticking out the back window.  Of course, I worried that I’d hit someone or someone would hit my package with their car.  Well, nobody did.  Cost $76 to ship it back to B&H Photo in New York.  You see, I ordered the wrong thing.  It was a projection screen.  Would have been great, except the thing was ten feet long, and we live in a modest bungalow.

I ordered a carpet once and had the same problem with getting one too large for our house.

We don’t own a television, but we do have a digital projector and, until recently, we used a window shade as a screen.  I had it mounted in our bedroom on a cabinet near the ceiling.  Pulled it down to watch videos.  The screen, I mean.

Unfortunately, last week we moved our bed closer to the windows for the springtime breezes and we needed to move the screen, only now there’s nowhere to fasten the window shade.  Anyway the shade was worn where it engages the bracket, so I’ve put the screen somewhere to discard.  I don’t remember where I put it.

I ordered another projection screen that is 60 x 60 inches, so we’ll see if that works better than the ten-footer.

On the way home from the UPS office I turned onto our street to see a post office truck with someone sitting in the back eating a big sandwich.  My eyes must have been large, I wasn’t expecting that sight, and, as I stared, the young woman waved, so I waved back.  I parked the car, got Gunther, and walked down to the end of the block where she was still eating her sandwich.  I apologized for staring at her and explained that I hadn’t expected to see her.  She said she often waves to people and admired Gunther.

“Gunther is therapeutic for me,” I explained.  “I have depression and he cheers me up.”

She replied, “I have anxiety and also struggle with depression.”  She said she has three guinea pigs that serve as comfort for her.

Another old guy ambled up and asked her if she was a mail carrier.  Gunther started growling, so I exited.