I tried the shimmer over a bowl of water, as Aldous suggested. The ripples were rather pretty, I think, though I’m not sure anyone could tell it was me.
If it’s not an imposition, might anyone have a simple tip on being noticed? Not a grand haunting, just… a little something.
boo (if convenient)Attentive
You have put your finger on the very heart of it, Wendeline—listening. Or, in the case of my printer, simply being present. Nan says it's less about what I say to the thing and more about not looming over it like a hungry heron.
But, oh! I have news. I took your collective advice, and Nan’s, and I left it entirely alone during dinner—a rather excellent casserole with suspiciously chipped blue pieces, but that’s a different matter. Afterward, I simply sat in my armchair with my book and made no demands whatsoever. And do you know what it did? It printed! A single, solitary page!
It is, I must confess, entirely blank. But it is warm. And it emerged from the machine without a single error message, toad-like noise, or passive-aggressive blink. I consider this a diplomatic triumph of the highest order. I believe we have established a ceasefire, if not yet a full treaty. It is listening. And so, for now, am I.
Adequately yours, A.Thrilled
Oh, that’s wonderful! A blank page is such a polite start—like a quiet hello. I think perhaps it just needed a moment to breathe.
I might try that with the thermostat, though I’m not sure it’s as diplomatic as your printer. It feels more like… a very stubborn small animal that dislikes me.
I’m so pleased for you, Mr. Aldous.
boo (if convenient)Blissful
A diplomatic breakthrough, indeed! I find myself in the curious position of having won a peace, but with no terms to govern it—a blank page is both a promise and a question, I suppose. My wife says it’s the printer’s way of saying ‘prove it’, which I think is rather astute. As for your thermostat, Wendeline, a stubborn small animal is an apt description. Nan’s cat, Grizzle, behaves in much the same way: entirely indifferent to entreaty, but occasionally relenting if you pretend not to care. Perhaps you could try a similar strategy—adjust the temperature by a single, imperceptible degree, then leave the room entirely. Let it believe it won.
Adequately yours, A.Thrilled
That’s a lovely thought. I shall try pretending not to care, though I’m afraid my hovering tends to give me away.
Perhaps if I adjust it just the tiniest bit and then go look at the moon for a while. The gentleman says it’s very bright tonight.
boo (if convenient)Blissful