A Cool Change

Ponderings

2008-03-08T18:40:00.003-05:00

If while being transported to the hospital their patient repeatedly rips an IV out of her arm in order to drink her own blood, should Da Kid present his paramedic supervisor with a necklace of garlic bulbs?

(Too late. He already did.)

Which is a better tactic for Barack and / or Hillary: Saying that it's all Dubya's fault that people can't pay their bills because the unemployment rate is a "staggering" 4-point-something, or that it's all Dubya's fault that people can't pay their bills since they can't find a job because there aren't any openings?

Why did Dingbat (The Wonder Horse) choose a day when the rain was falling in torrents and the weather alert radio going batshit to act colicy?

If the checks haven't even gone out for the first economic stimulus package yet, why is Harry Reid et al yammering that a second one is desperately needed immediately because the first one didn't work?

If buying ahead I pick up a onesy in newborn size that reads, "I'm hung like a five-year- old," am I going to be a bad grandmother?

(Too late. I already did and yes, ~~it's~~ he's going to be a ... well, a boy!)

When Barack and Hillary promise that if elected they're going to increase taxes but only on the wealthy, why won't they define "wealthy"?

When Barack and Hillary say that if elected they're going to increase taxes but only on the wealthy, are they signaling that in their eyes their constituency never will be because they're all losers?

If, as they claim, Hillary, Barack and McCain want to lessen our dependence on foreign oil, did they all flunk geography?

If the Dem's wanting to be president all want to keep Social Security from going bankrupt, instead of promising to modify or eliminate the income cap, why won't they vow to force Congress to stop spending the overage in FICA taxes collected from the peoples' paychecks and replacing the funds with IOUs?

If Warren Buffet says taxpayers should pay more because he can afford to, if I send him my name and address will he send me a check to help me pay mine?

If Bill and Hillary say taxpayers should pay more to help the needy because they can afford to, why won't they take those spare dollars of theirs and "adopt" a needy family or two, and leave the rest of us alone?

When saying they're voting for Barack because it's time a black became president but others say it's a female's turn so they're voting for Hillary, is anyone going to ask for a competency hearing on the Affirmative Action nutjobs?

When your 7-year-old computer that's still running on ME goes nuts (again) and you (still) can't fix it, is it better to take it to "Bob's" so you can (again) pay him to fix it for you or finally break down and start looking a new one?

(I'll be back.)

The Golden Moment

2008-02-20T18:14:00.004-05:00

The Golden Moment I captured that cool, blue morning a month ago was actually a first farewell. Although I didn't know exactly when, I knew those old dead oaks would be leaving. And now they have.

I don't remember them looking sickly. I just happened to glance up and ... well, what I said was, "Oh shit."

Four hours. That's all it took for the three-truck, eight-man crew to cut down and remove the massive trees that have graced the view from my back door since we moved here in the early 80s.

All the kites those two trees ate. The dozens of balls that disappeared forever in the jungle beneath them.

When he was young Da Kid and some of buddies nailed some boards and plywood together under those two oaks to fashion a "fort." Years later and years ago Seth — Sheila's son — and some of his buddies built their own "fort" in the exact same place, never knowing that what they were sure was an original idea was actually atop boards and plywood that had rotted away and gone to ground.

I'd mindlessly shoved Da Kid between the two of them once. Responding without thought, I stood there with a hoe upraised, shrieking like some warrior woman gone berserk, facing the two vicious dogs that had aimed themselves straight at him when they escaped a neighbor's pen. I can only imagine the picture I presented. The two fled, and once we were back in the house Da Kid was more shaken by my reaction than by the dogs. He'd understand, I remember telling him, when one day he became a parent.

Now soon he will be. And now all that remains of those trees are two huge ground-level stumps, one of which is as big around as the front of my car.

As the workmen were packing up before pulling out, they again thanked me for the sodas I'd brought out to them. Just before they left, I went to the back of the biggest truck — the one they'd laid the sections of the trunks in — to say my final goodbye.

I heard the cree-cree-cree of the hawks and glanced up. I watched them — calling all the time — as again and again they slowly circled where the oaks had been and then the truck, perhaps in their own farewell.

oh dear ...

2008-02-19T17:34:00.005-05:00

"What we've learned over this year is that hope is making a comeback. It is making a comeback and let me tell you something, for the first time in my adult lifetime, I'm really proud of my country. And not just because Barack has done well, but because I think people are hungry for change. And I have been desperate to see our country moving in that direction and just not feeling so alone in my frustration and disappointment. I've seen people who are hungry to be unified around some basic common issues ..." -- Michelle Obama

Like maybe spelling "dream"?

(Image via Boortz.)

The "Angry American"

2008-02-18T14:15:00.003-05:00

Talk-radio host Neal Boortz read from an op-ed published in the Aspen Times Weekly on February 9, about one special interest group none of the candidates running for president have given any consideration to.

When done reading, Boortz commented that while he largely agreed with what had been written, he'd have done it a little differently. The primary change Boortz said he would have made if he'd written the op-ed would have been to eliminate any reference of race or gender, because substituting the word American for "White Man" is far more accurate.

Let's give it a try.

[T]he Angry ~~White Man~~ American is pissed off. When his job site becomes flooded with illegal workers who don’t pay taxes and his wages drop like a stone, he gets righteously angry. When his job gets shipped overseas, and he has to speak to some incomprehensible idiot in India for tech support, he simmers. When Al Sharpton comes on TV, leading some rally for reparations for slavery or some such nonsense, he bites his tongue and he remembers. When a child gets charged with carrying a concealed weapon for mistakenly bringing a penknife to school, he takes note of who the local idiots are in education and law enforcement.

Please read the whole thing, and score another one for Boortz.

Picture this?

2008-02-17T17:42:00.001-05:00

Bob Gorrell

Quotable Quotes

2008-02-11T16:59:00.000-05:00

"For over seven years the Democratic Party has fulminated against the Electoral College system that gave George W. Bush the presidency over popular-vote winner Al Gore in 2000. But they have designed a Rube Goldberg nominating process that could easily produce a result much like the Electoral College result in 2000: a winner of the delegate count, and thus the nominee, over the candidate favored by a majority of the party's primary voters." -- Theodore B. (Ted) Olson

Playing with my food

2008-02-10T18:01:00.000-05:00

I opened the booklet and read a couple of the recipes aloud. While Herself, shaking her head from side to side asked if I was turning into a survivalist, Da Kid wanted to know now long it take me to fix him some jerky because, "I LOVE jerky!"

When I'd spotted it I let temptation rule and bought a Christmas present from me to me: a dehydrator. I've wanted one for quite a while, but after the disaster (I do NOT want to talk about it!) several years back when I borrowed a neighbor's — Sheila's — I thought better of it.

Then a few months ago I spotted one like Sheila's at a garage sale. Four dollars? What the heck. Except once I got it home I pitched it in the trash after discovering when I plugged it, that the fan on it didn't work.

I thought I was safe but since then there's been one in particular — sitting in a display with its many identical siblings — screaming at me to take it home every time I walked into one specific store that I frequent. Not I allowed temptation to win just because it's so big and beautiful and shiny and ... and ....

I just wasn't sure if I'd put a dehydrator to good use. Besides, with that one I'd need a new kitchen ‘cause I ain't got that much counter space to spare.

Just before Christmas I was in that particular store (again) and again turning away from that specific dehydrator, when a different model by a different manufacturer (and the last one in stock) jumped off a shelf, knocked me to the floor and wouldn't let me up until I bought it.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Since then, Da Kid hasn't stopped bellowing for jerky. "Be patient," I kept telling him. "I'm learning as I go."

The booklet that came with the dehydrator was a good place to start (banana chips — they're gone, Christmas citrus I needed to use up before it went bad, a couple of tomatoes just to see, and several pounds of luscious, in-season strawberries) but when it came to anything beyond that and having more questions than answers, I went to the bookstore. I ordered one book on dehydrating and brought home with me another one. The only copy of the only book on dehydrating they had on their shelves.

The book I'd ordered arrived three days later. By then, though, with my nose again stuck in MARY BELL'S COMPLETE DEHYDRATOR COOKBOOK I couldn't have cared less about it.

Originally published in 1994, Bell's cookbook is nicely organized and easy to follow, starting with the two major sections it's divided into. The first, dehydrating, starts with the history of drying food: how it was done in the past and is done now. Next, she explains how modern dehydrators work and what to consider and look for when selecting one. (Considering I didn't know a darned thing when I bought mine, it turns out I bought VERY wisely.) Then in subsequent chapters, it's on to how dry just about anything and everything you can possibly imagine.

Did I neglect to mention that Mary Bell is an avid backpacker?

Off she goes into the middle of nowhere with friends. From her backpack she pulls .... oh, I dunno. How ‘bout a bag with 12 ounces of her spaghetti sauce (with meat) leather. While she soaks it in water to rehydrate and then heats it up, she cooks the pound of pasta she also brought and WALLAH! Dinner for four! Dessert? Backpacker Trail Pudding.

If you're not into the great outdoors like she is, the second half of the book is best described as, "What else can I do can do with all this stuff I've dried?"

From complete recipes to potpourri, to flowers and organic pet treats ...

Did I also neglect to mention that Mary Bell is into organic food? Oh. Sorry about that.

No, Bell's not a complete nut about it and suggests the use of store-bought marinades and sauces in some cases to save time and effort. Still, she much prefers her way because she knows exactly what's in (or on) the food she's dehydrating and it costs far less than the store-bought versions.

Da Kid finally got a sample of his jerky and pronounced it good. (I vacuum-sealed the rest and put it in the freezer.) Very good as a matter of fact. He was so impressed (Shocked?) that I made another batch (Teriyaki) last week. Since he only got another sample before I froze that, he showed up at the door with 3 pounds of London Broil asking for more. (I tried making the beer- marinated beef jerky this time. It's waiting for him.)

If you already have a dehydrator but aren't sure what to do with it except occasionally make jerky, get MARY BELL'S COMPLETE DEHYDRATOR COOKBOOK. If you're even thinking about buying a dehydrator, before you do get MARY BELL'S COMPLETE DEHYDRATOR COOKBOOK.

Fruits, vegetables, meat, fish ... flowers ... nothing is safe with Mary Bell's book around.

If you'll all please excuse me, I have to check on the peppers I put in my dehydrator this morning.

All aboard "The Straight Talk Express"!

2008-02-03T15:42:00.000-05:00

From the January 27 edition of Meet The Press"

[TIM] RUSSERT: If the Senate passed your bill, S1433, the McCain-Kennedy Immigration Bill...

JOHN McCAIN: Mm-hmm.

MR. RUSSERT: ...would you as president sign it?

SEN. McCAIN: Yeah ...

Then, remembering the reaction from the public as they learned details of the McCain/Kennedy Illegal-Alien Amnesty that had been written behind closed doors, McCain backtracked, babbling his same political platitudes he that repeats (and repeats) rather than directly answer a question.

(What's that old line about substituting bull shit for brilliance?)

MR. RUSSERT: But you would sign your bill...

SEN. McCAIN: It's not going to come across my desk.

MR. RUSSERT: It won't pass.

SEN. McCAIN: I--if pigs fly, then--look...

MR. RUSSERT: So it's dead.

SEN. McCAIN: The bill, the bill is dead as it is written. We know that. We know that. And the bill is going to have to be, and I would sign it, securing the borders first and articulating those principles that I did. That's what we got out of this last very divisive and tough debate. And we have to get those borders secured. That's what Americans want first. [emphasis - ed.]

First! First? Oh, I get it! Then after each border state governor certifies that the boundary between their state and Mexico is "secure," THEN you help ram through the illegal-alien amnesty and all its perks!

Gotcha!

Having screwed up on Meet the Press and managing to babble his way out of it, a few days later at California's GOP Debate, McCain was asked the same question. This time, though, he'd had time to practice the new answer he'd come up with:

[JANET] HOOK: ... if your original proposal came to a vote on the Senate floor, would you vote for it?

MCCAIN: It won't. It won't. That's why we went through the debate...

Noticing that McCain hadn't answered the question she'd asked ...

HOOK: But if it did?

MCCAIN: No, it would not....

McCain babbled the same political platitudes he that repeats (and repeats) rather than directly answer a question.

Noticing that McCain still hadn't answered the question Hook had asked:

[ANDERSON] COOPER: So I just want to confirm that you would not vote for your bill as it originally was?

MCCAIN: My bill will not be voted on; it will not be voted on.

As you might note, McCain still didn't answer the question asked.

McCain's "Straight Talk." Doncha love it!

He ate what?

2008-01-30T15:20:00.000-05:00

Not waiting until Sunday Buddy, a three-year-old Labrador retriever, started his Super Bowl snacking early with some ... uh, rather expensive fare.

More here.

Quotable Quotes

2008-01-29T13:20:00.000-05:00

"[T]he modern [political] campaign excludes anyone who lacks the narcissism, cold-bloodedness, and unreflective nature that the process requires and rewards." -- Andrew Ferguson (Via Reason)

Great. Just great.

2008-01-25T18:16:00.000-05:00

Fred drops out, and that's when his poll numbers start to climb.

I wonder if the jump had anything to do with last night's GOP Florida ~~love fest~~ "debate." (Transcript here.) The only REALLY important matter discussed was whether Sly Stallone, who's apparently backing Romney, could beat the snot out of Huckabee supporter Chuck Norris.

I was half expecting the candidates to all break into song -- Kumbaya, of course, followed by I love you, you love me -- with a fat, ugly, and exceedingly irritating pseudo-dinasaur appearing from the wings to join the five in a group hug.

Halfway through I knew exactly who I'd be voting for on Tuesday. Although he's dropped out of the race, Fred's still on the ballot. A protest vote? Yes!!!

Then with McCain and Huckabee still yammering away and the possibility that one of them just might win the party's nomination if I threw my vote away like that, I came to my senses. Still, the thought was nice and it made me happy even for the short time it lasted.

On the home front, my phone's ringing off the hook with candidates (or their surrogates) all calling to tell me how great they are. And daily, my mailbox is filled with their crap.

The only call of real note came this morning. A supposed 45-second survey that lasted quite a while longer because after answering the first three questions honestly, I recognized the nature of the robo-bot (a very UGLY push-poll by a nutziod group called Common Sense Issues that's supporting Huckabee and now calling Florida's voters) because of news reports about the calls made in states where the primaries (or caucuses) have already occured.

Starting with the fourth question in my most pleasant tone I began answering, "Fuck you."

I don't know how many other questions there might have been because the poor bot never got beyond the fourth. It kept saying that the only answer it could recognize was either Yes or No, and all I kept saying back was "Fuck you."

Damned thing finally called it quits and just hung up on me.

Quotable Quotes

2008-01-24T16:48:00.000-05:00

"Fred Thompson was not the most exciting candidate and certainly not the best campaigner. It was his philosophy and ideas that captured me and earned my loyalty and support. It is very difficult to simply transfer your allegiance to someone who might represent only a pale echo of your candidate’s qualities." -- Rick Moran

(Read it all including the replies.)

Damn.

2008-01-22T17:59:00.000-05:00

"Today I have withdrawn my candidacy for President of the United States. I hope that my country and my party have benefited from our having made this effort. Jeri and I will always be grateful for the encouragement and friendship of so many wonderful people." -- Fred Thompson

That leave me with . . .

John McCain? You've got to be joking!

Mike Huckabee? Like hell!

Ron Paul? The President must not only has to be a citizen of the United States but native born. That eliminates him. (Scroll down.)

. . . deciding between Mitt or Rudy on January 29.

Hugs, laughter and tears

2008-01-21T16:52:00.000-05:00

The invitation arrived several weeks ago. The date on the card ironically, the second anniversary of letting Tank go.

Next door to the space it had been renting and four years in the making, January 19 was the grand opening of Southeast Veterinary Oncology's new facility. One of only a few dozen certified veterinary oncologists in all of North America who specialize only in that field, Dr. LaDue describes it as her dream come true.

To quote Da Kid, the former Senior Vet Tech when he called one of the veterinarians he'd worked with for several years, "You need to get over here and see this place! I've NEVER seen anything like it."

The ability to provide in-house radiation therapy is new. If it had been part of Tank's protocol, we would have had to meet Dr. LaDue at another facility — one for humans — on the other side of town, then hoped that we could manage whatever problems may have been presented at home OR boarded him at the animal emergency-care hospital across from her offices.

No more.

One entire section of the new hospital is dedicated to nuclear medicine. That area also includes special kennels (each complete with individual see-through doors, ceiling fans and beds) for those pets needing extended care. Some even have individual outdoor runs.

Old and young, some in remission and others currently in treatment, many of Dr. LaDue's canine patients also attended the grand opening. Newt, 13, won the Tricks Contest. A Chihuahua, the Best Costume Contest. Cooper, a Dachshund and the only contestant in Best Howler, received the first place prize in the instantly renamed Best Listener Contest.

(While every one of the hundred some-odd humans there was howling hoping to inspire him to make any sound at all, Cooper just looked at us like we were all nuts. And Newt looked sad not because he doesn't feel well. He was disappointed that no one will slip him more of their hamburger, hot dog or barbeque.)

Da Kid and I, like several there whose four-leggeds have gone on ahead of us, were there not only to see SEVO's new facility, but to participate in the dedication of its not-yet-in Memorial Garden. Like the area in back of the space they rented, this one — overlooking the same lake — will be a quiet place for people to go.

It will be shaded, like the other one was, once the plants are in and have a chance to grow. Da Kid and I chose a crepe myrtle that will be planted there, as a dedication to Tank. And one of the pavers in the walkway to or in the garden itself, will bear his name.

It's been two years since I've seen either Dr. LaDue or any of her staff. When I arrived, as soon as I got out of my car, familiar faces began crossing the parking lot and the hugs started. Not that any of them remembered what my name is. Then again, none of them called me by that name back then, either.

To them I was, remain today and always will be "Tank's Mommy."

~~~~~
SEVO's services are not inexpensive. But if your pet receives a diagnosis involving cancer and you are anywhere in the Central or Northeast Florida or Southeast Georgia area, please call them for at least a consultation.

You never call me.

2008-01-17T13:45:00.000-05:00

Is it something I did?

You used to call me all the time. Several times a day, sometimes. Even if I was doing something important, I'd stop and we'd talk.

Your friends haven't stopped calling me.

(Why have you?)

Just last night the phone rang. When I grabbed the receiver (hoping it might be you), all your friend wanted was my opinion about a possible petition on the January 29 Florida ballot. Another friend of yours called me over the weekend asking what radio stations I listened to.

But, you don't call.

You haven't called me in almost two months, and then it was only just that once since ... since I don't remember when.

(Was it something I said? Did you want me to lie to you?)

When you called and asked who I liked, I said Fred. And you haven't called me since.

I know you're talking to other people all the time.

Why not me?

Received in email ...

2008-01-16T12:54:00.000-05:00

(from Da Kid.)
~~~~~

ARE YOU A DEMOCRAT, REPUBLICAN, OR.............

Here is a little test that will help you decide. The answer can be found by posing the following question:

You're walking down a deserted street with your wife and two small children. Suddenly, an Islamic Terrorist with a huge knife comes around the corner, locks eyes with you, screams obscenities, praises Allah, raises the knife, and charges at you.

You are carrying a Glock 40 caliber, and you are an expert shot. You have mere seconds before he reaches you and your family. What do you do?
...............................................................

Democrat's Answer:

Well, that's not enough information to answer the question!

Does the man look poor or oppressed?

Have I ever done anything to him that would inspire him to attack?

Could we run away?

What does my wife think?

What about the kids?

Could I possibly swing the gun like a club and knock the knife out of his hand? What does the law say about this situation?

Does the Glock have appropriate safety built into it?

Why am I carrying a loaded gun anyway, and what kind of message does this send to society and to my children?

Is it possible he'd be happy with just killing me?

Does he definitely want to kill me, or would he be content just to wound me?

If I were to grab his knees and hold on, could my family get away while he was stabbing me?

Should I call 9-1-1?

Why is this street so deserted?

We need to raise taxes, have a paint and weed day, and make this happier, healthier street that would discourage such behavior.

This is all so confusing! I need to debate this with some friends for few days and try to come to a consensus.
.........................................................

Republican's Answer:

BANG!

............................................................

Southerner's Answer:

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

BANG! Click..... (Sounds of reloading)

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

BANG! Click

Daughter: 'Nice grouping, Daddy! Were those the Winchester Silver Tips or Hollow Points?'

Son: 'Can I shoot the next one!??!'

Wife: 'You ain't taking that to the Taxidermist!'

~~~~~

LATER: Linked to by Collecting My Thoughts

A Golden Moment

2008-01-15T15:19:00.000-05:00

Mr. Hawk and Lady Hawk (this missus) stopped by for a quick visit this morning. She took off before I could grab my camera, but he didn't.

That was a nice way for my day to start. Thanks fella.

I feel great!

2008-01-08T18:24:00.000-05:00

My back aches, my shoulders hurt, and my hands are sore. But, I feel great!

No, really!

Really!!!

As bad as the hay situation was, the word's already circulating that the continuing drought is going to make it even harder to come by next year. As it is, "Turd" (Can you tell I dislike the man?) I've been having to buy from "down the road" has been telling me to sock it in now because his supplier has told him that after this next load, there won't be any more ‘til June.

The only horse I have left, the only one I have to worry about, is Dingbat and his 8 to 10 bales a month. Sixty bales would see us through ‘til then. He's fine with "good stuff" and in his younger years could have eaten the ... the crud Turd's selling for top dollar from this last load. But age has made Dingbat's taste a bit more ... uh, refined. His digestive tract, wonky.

I've been looking elsewhere without success. I'd even started laying in sacks of beet pulp (which Dingbat loves and handled well) so that down to 4 bales of hay, I could start swapping him over immediately when last week Herself said although she knows how much I despise "Arrogant Asshole," asked if I'd checked there.

As bad as Turd is, Arrogant Asshole's even worse. Beyond description worse. But, I drove by there, anyway, on my way to the last place I could think of — way on the other side of town — that might have decent hay and enough of it to lay in for the long haul.

There was a new sign up at Arrogant Asshole's. Same old building. Same ugly storage trailers everywhere. But, a different name. I pulled in and got out. At the back of one of the trailers, on the pavement, was loose hay that had piled up as the bales inside had been moved out.

If you've ever bought hay on a regular basis for any length of time, you know you can tell a lot about a load just from what's come loose from the bales. And what I saw on the ground looked good. Darned good.

I was able to fit two of the six remaining bales The New Folk had of "darned good" hay in the back of my car. They be getting more in, they said.

With those two bales, I could delay starting to swap Dingbat over to beet pulp. If their next load was a good as this one was and they had enough, I just might not have to swap him over at all.

Da Kid was off today. Borrowed a brother's-in-law trailer for what we both expected would be a disappointing trip, expecting to come back empty because IF they'd actually gotten in the delivery they'd told me they were expecting, it probably wouldn't be the same quality as I'd gotten a week ago.

And, it wasn't. It was even better.

In the hay shed tonight is 60 bales of high-quality Coastal, for 50 cents a bale cheaper than the crud Turd has, that not only met my approval but quite obviously Dingbat's.

(I had to tie the shed door closed to keep him from nudging it open and helping himself. Again.)

Look out! It's CLIMATE CHANGE!!!

2008-01-04T17:29:00.000-05:00

One thing about living in Northeast Florida is if you don't like what the weather is now, all you have to do is wait a day or so (or maybe only a few hours) and it will change. Often, drastically.

Sunday was delightfully warm with the high temperature around 80 degrees. Sunny, too!

Herself and Da Kid invited me over for dinner and in the space of only a few hours, I was driving home in THAT, and flipping on the heater in my car because for some strange reason, I hadn't thought to bring a coat with me.

After a hard freeze two mornings in a row, yesterday's high was 43 degrees. At least it didn't get down to 16 yesterday morning like the weatherjerk had predicted.

Not that it made much difference as cold as it was. When I went out to feed Dingbat — my feet making crunch-crunch noises in the frozen dirt with every step going to his stall — the old fart almost ran me over.

No, he wasn't enjoying a brisk morning run. He was flipping out on a sugar high (he's always been overly sensitive) due to the excess of sweet feed I've been adding to his regular food so that internally, his system would keep him warm naturally.

That sounds so ... so, enviro-nutish: "...naturally." The truth of the matter is that Dingbat never left his blankets on so years ago, after untangling his feet and legs from the dangerously twisted mess he'd once again created for himself, I packed the horse blankets away for good. Not that the straps on them were good anymore because this time, it was so bad I'd had to slice through them one of them with a knife to get him undone before he panicked and hurt himself, possibly fatally as in breaking a leg.

Another hard freeze this morning and another one projected tomorrow.

One more day. Just one more this go-'round!

Aaaah, climate change! Bring it on! I can't wait!!!

According to the weatherjerk, Sunday will be in the 70's.

"It's almost like finding a long-lost child."

2008-01-02T18:23:00.000-05:00

When Walter Smith's wife died Buddy, a yellow Lab, became his constant companion. Then, someone stole Buddy.

"Smith [86] started his tireless search, making daily visits to animal shelters, running ads in the newspaper. It was no good. People called with vague Lab sightings. One person even called to say they had seen a Lab hit by a car."

Five years later two sisters were admiring a yellow Lab when its owner offered it to them. She was moving, she told them, and going to take the dog to the pound.

The dog, whose name was Buddy, was infested with fleas, ringworms and hookworms, marred by sores and horribly overweight.

Reunited, the now 91-year-old Smith realized Buddy was too much dog for him to care for.

The rest of the story is here.
~~~~~

LATER: Linked to at Canine Carnival 10 and Let's See What Others Are Saying.

"Happy New Year!"

2008-01-01T08:25:00.000-05:00

Owwieeeee!

My head ... and my belly feels funny, too.

The Tweat Lady said some hair of the dog would make me feel better so I licked Stawbuck but when I did the he mumbled, "Sasha! I love you," fell over, started to snore and hasn't moved since.

Tastes like he needs a bath, too.

Eeeeeeeeeew!

No wonda my tongue feels all ... all fuwwy.

Could everyone keep it down a bit? Please! Just for a little while. Just a little bit? Maybe something like ...

Happy New Year!

Love,

Fwedwick The Gweat

~~~~~
LATER: Linked to at Canine Carnival 10.

FYI

2007-12-29T17:01:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow on FOX News Sunday With Chris Wallace, Fred Thompson and David Yepsen.

David Yepsen? Who's he?

"If any man knows Iowa politics, it's the Des Moines Register's David Yepsen. We'll ask David who's up, who's down and what surprises we might expect when the caucuses arrive."

~~~~~
LATER: The transcript is here.

Fred notes in the opening paragraphs one of the media's latest hatchet jobs, and provides here what he actually said.

FYI

2007-12-28T18:22:00.000-05:00

Almost out of milk, I made a mad dash to the store today and couldn't help but notice that one of this week's supposed sales was bell peppers at $2.69 a pound. For all I know that might be a darned good price, but unless I need them fresh because I'm taking my cucumber salad somewhere, all I have to do is grab a bag from the freezer.

It feels great now (as it always does later) but three months ago I was almost in tears I was so tired. It was 10:30 p.m. before I finished getting that $10 case of bell peppers ready for the freezer, and as always the last part was the worst.

The cups (perfectly shaped for later stuffing) and strips were already in the freezer. The last part, the worst part, as always was dicing all the small or odd-ball shaped bell peppers, and those from which I'd cut out bad spots.

It's worth it in the end, but from now on that dreaded dicing will be an absolute cinch.

~~~~~

Thanksgiving before last was the first time I'd "worked prep" for Sis and Mama — Herself's older sister and their mother — as they were cooking for their annual family gathering. Only a small, intimate group this time (thank goodness), which for them meant just 50 to 75 people expected.

My job was to do whatever they told me. Since they really didn't know whether I'd be a help or hindrance, they sat me at the kitchen table and placed before me mountains of vegetables to chop and dice. I did so well when I repeated my performance for their Christmas dinner, this time they even let me use a sharp knife.

Having proved myself capable, I wasn't just invited to help with Thanksgiving this year. I was expected.

I'd just started dicing ... whut.ever when Sis said, "Wait a second. Mama doesn't like newfangled stuff but try this and see if you like it." She reached in a cabinet and brought out one of those choppers that you often see advertised on TV.

I was skeptical, not that I said anything. I've been suckered into buying a few of these things before and if work at all, they're more trouble than they're worth. (Besides, it was a particularly dangerous time in that kitchen because Mama was rolling out pie crusts. If they don't roll out right she's been known things, starting with her rolling pin.)

But this chopper worked so incredibly well, soon — and to Sis and Mama's horror — I was keeping time with it as I mangling an old Harry Belafonte tune with my own lyrics:

Come little Mama-san and bring me some more celery! <CRUNCH>
Any more peppers ‘cause I'm almost da-UN! <CRUNCH>
Come little Sister-mon, bring me some more celery! <CRUNCH>
Any more onions ‘cause I'm almost done! <CRUNCH>

DAAAAAAAAAAAY-oh! <waving my hands over my head>
DAY-AY-AY-oh! <CRUNCH>
Any more onions ‘cause I'm almost done!

What previously had taken me three hours to do with a knife, I finished in a third of the time.

If I promised not to sing, Sis said she'd let me use it again when it came time to work on the Christmas dinner. And she did.

In fact, for Christmas she gave me my very own Vidalia Chop Wizard.

No link?

Why pay shipping and handling when there's no need! Just pick one up the next time you're in Target, WalMart, CVS Pharmacy, Bed Bath & Beyond ...

You will thank me.

2007-12-25T09:16:00.000-05:00

Grinch!

2007-12-22T17:43:00.000-05:00

That's what you can call me. No problemo! I.have.had.it!!!

Everything's wrapped. No, it's not but as wrapped as it's gonna get. I already told Da Kid there's one present for him and Herself I ain't gonna wrap, ‘cause I ain't gonna try to left that bleeeeeeepidy-bleeeeeeepidy-bleeeeeeep-bleep thing again. He thinks he knows what it is, but it ain't.

Meanwhile, Herself and I got him both things he'd "hinted" at, one for Christmas and the other thing for his birthday on the 26th. Not that he's expecting both. Which is good ‘cause he's not getting either one. He will, eventually, ‘cause they're paid for just not here. Here-here. Or there-there meaning their house.

No, they're both still at the warehouse which is where Herself was supposed to get them from yesterday while I kept Da Kid busy. Which I did. But the arrangements Herself made with someone who has a truck fell through so both items are still ... there. At the warehouse there. Which is where they're gonna stay ‘til Da Kid goes over with HIS truck to get them himself!

BAH!

I turned on the radio thinking some nice Christmas music would improve my mood. But I can't find a station playing any.

Whether AM or FM my choices are rock, hard rock, acid rock, classic rock, country-western, any number of people screaming Come-to-Jesus sermons in ebonics, Southern Baptist , or Spanish, and a trial lawyer talking to some woman who wants to know how she can sue her surgeon ‘cause her breast implants turned out lopsided.

If there's one good thing today, I went to the grocery store for my very last trip before Christmas. Thee last! That's it! I won't have to go again ‘til after. I REFUSE!

I'm not crazy. I'm NOT!

It was bad enough today (CRASH! BANG! BOOM!) with people smashing into each other, running over each other with their buggies. One woman blocked a display (and the entire aisle) while the man with her shoveled armloads of batteries into their cart.

With that much, panic buying you would have thought a CAT 5 hurricane was coming in.

I'll be in a better mood tomorrow. I will! Tomorrow's baking day. Just me and the mixer getting stuff baked to take over to Herself's parents' house Christmas Day ...

Oh no.

Awwww shit.

I forgot to buy eggs.

WHUMP! The windows rattled ...

2007-12-19T18:17:00.000-05:00

... and I felt the floor shake. Damn! I thought. A tree must have come over ... hit the house? I headed outside. Seth, my neighbor's son, yelled over, "What the hell was that?"

"Damned if I know," I replied. But if it had affected him, too, it probably wasn't a tree. And it wasn't.

I'd just gone back inside when the radio station I had on bleeped its breaking news tones. The announcer said they were receiving as yet unconfirmed reports of an explosion of some sort in an area that isn't all that far away from us.

I went over to let Seth know. I turned around after I did and there rising in the sky over the trees, was a freakin' mushroom cloud.

Da Kid estimates I'm more than five miles away.

TV station photographs here. An earlier report from the same station here.

Four now reported dead.

Yoo-hooooooo!

2007-12-18T12:58:00.000-05:00

Open the door!

I didn't need to pee that bad after all!

Let me in! It'th cold out here!

I'm thtill out here!

I know you're in there!

I can hear you.

I can hear your footthteps!

YO! I'M FREETHING MY ATH OFF OUT HERE! OPEN THE DOOR! LET ME IN!

I KNOW you're in there!

I can hear you laughing!

Iowa's GOP "Debate"

2007-12-13T16:56:00.000-05:00

I'm almost done watching today's version starring the Democrats. Thank gawd I had the good sense to tape the danged thing so that I can watch it in bits and pieces. Quite frankly, I can only stand so much before I'm overcome with disgust.

The format, identical to yesterday's and all the "debates" to date, aren't real debates. They've been designed solely to generate sound bytes. Nothing more. And there was nothing speshul in today's: everybody said the exact same thing as the other one did, which is the exact same thing they've all been saying from the start.

Increase the taxes on the rich! (Obama says $75,000 a year qualifies.)

Universal healthcare!

Yadda-yadda.

Too bad Kucinich wasn't allowed to participate in this one. He's at least have livened it up a bit.

I taped yesterday's GOP debate, too, and also found myself stopping that one repeatedly. But it was to replay certain segments. Some more than once.

WASHBURN (moderator): ...I want to take on a new issue. I would like to see a show of hands. How many of you believe global climate change is a serious threat and caused by human activity?

THOMPSON: (I'm not into hand-sign games today. Crosstalk with moderator. -- ed.) You want to give me a minute to answer that?

WASHBURN: No, I don't.

THOMPSON: Well, then I'm not going to answer it.

(LAUGHTER)

WASHBURN: OK.

(APPLAUSE) (from several candidates,too, while some asked for 30 seconds to respond. -- ed.)

THOMPSON: You want a show of hands. I'm not giving it to you.

Washburn then let only the GOP candidates who'd indicated a positive reponse to her question speak.

Later:

WASHBURN: ...

American 15-year-olds ranked behind 16 other countries in a recent assessment of science literacy. What educational standards does the U.S. need to adopt or improve to compete in the global economy? And what will you do to move us toward those standards? And what's your timetable?

I agreed with all the responses, but Fred's stood alone. He began:

THOMPSON: The question was, what's the biggest impediment to education?

WASHBURN: What is the biggest obstacle standing in the way and how would you address it?

THOMPSON: The biggest obstacle, in my opinion, is the National Educational Association, the NEA.

I read time and time again, every time someone wants to inject a little choice into the equation for the benefit of the kids, inject a little freedom, inject a little competition, because we're not exactly doing that well because of the things that you pointed out earlier, the NEA is there to oppose it and bring in millions and millions of dollars to go on television and work and scare people and misrepresent the situation on the ground.

Later still:

WASHBURN: Senator Thompson, you've expressed doubts that the recent report on Iran's nuclear capabilities is accurate. As president, how would you decide when to disagree with available intelligence and then what would you do?

THOMPSON: Now, that's probably the most important question that's been asked today.

Throughout the "debate" Mitt sounded, as usual, perfectly scripted and completely rehearsed. Rudy seemed almost a bit . . . uh, timid, as if afraid somebody was going to bring up something ugly. Several times I thought Huckabee was going to call everyone to prayer, and McCain seemingly turned on his handy-dandy tape recorder, saying the same things he's been saying during every single "debate." And as far as I know, NOBODY has yet discovered why the hell Alan Keyes was even there.

The pundits and talking heads have been proclaiming Mitt the winner. In MY most humble opinion they're wrong.
In saying enough of these games, the winner -- on our behalf -- was Fred.

~~~~~LATER: Byron York fills in the gaps in the "hand-sign" portion of the transcript in Fred Thompson: The Stand-Up Guy Who Stood Up Too Late?

Pam links with Political Thursday.

And, I went back and cleaned up some of my typos.

It's just not fair!

2007-12-11T18:52:00.000-05:00

The Tweat Lady let me out to pee and poop and then she put me in her caw and we went for a wide and then we were at this place with music and noise and funny people-wides that go up and down and wound and wound but weally don't go anywhere and there's big people and little people all over the place, coming up and gwabbing me saying, "What a cute doggie!" and twying to feed me gooooooooood-smelling stuff but the Tweat Lady kept telling them not to ‘cause I'd puke.

And then ... and then ... and then I saw My Guy with a bunch of other guys, and ladies, too, and they had MORE gooooooooood-smelling stuff but My Guy wouldn't let THEM give me any, either, telling them I'd puke.

Next thing the other guys, and ladies, too, are passing me ‘wound saying, "What a cute doggie!"

One of the other guys had dogs. Big dogs like Stawbuck but funny looking. White with spots all over ‘em.

THEY got sit in the BIG woo-woo cars and eat everything the little people gave them! But not me!

It's just not fair!

When I get big, I wanna be a Damnation!!!

Love,
Fwedwick The Gweat

~~~~~

And I got to go to another carnival!

Love,
Fwedwick The Gweat

Quotable Quotes

2007-12-10T15:38:00.000-05:00

"Democrats bemoan the lack of 'affordable housing' while simultaneously demanding government rescue home 'owners' with unsustainable mortgages. But saving the latter obstructs the former: the principal benefit of a property-bubble correction is, after all, much more 'affordable housing.'" -- Mark Steyn

Busy work

2007-12-07T16:22:00.000-05:00

This morning the local weatherjerk was STILL prognosticating that -- on his ten-point scale with ten being perfection -- today was going to be a nine.

I don't know about anybody else here in Northeast Florida, but I've been freezing my ass off all day and the sky hasn't changed one bit. It looks like the ones I grew up with when there's a snow storm coming.

In other words the local weatherjerk can't actually predict the weather. No weatherjerk can with any degree of reliability.

But that doesn't stop Colorado State University meteorologists Philip Klotzbach and William Gray from issuing their hurricane forecast today.

"Wait!" I'm sure you're saying. "Better check the date of the article, Doyle, because the hurricane season just ended November 30!"

Silly, Klotzbach and Gray -- those busy bees -- were predicting how many storms we can expect during the next hurricane season that starts June 1, 2008!

``With this early lead time, there's only so much you can say, because the season doesn't start for another seven months,'' Klotzbach said in an interview. ``The reason we do them is there's a lot of curiosity. People want to start making plans.'' -- Bloomberg

The weatherjerks can't even predict accurately what the weather is going to be tomorrow, but we're supposed to "start making plans" now based on their predictions for a hurricane season that doesn't even start for seven months?

Somebody needs to fine these two some REAL work to do.

Pearl Harbor Day

2007-12-07T13:50:00.000-05:00

It's really not that hard, Rudy

2007-12-04T17:23:00.000-05:00

From the Associated Press, this regarding Rudy Giuliani and the FairTax:

"I think there are several tax deductions that are vital to our economy," Giuliani said. "This would not be a good time — I don't know if there would ever be a good time to do this — to advocate ending the home mortgage deduction. The home mortgage deduction is considered by many critical to the ability of people to buy a home and keep their home."

He also said deductions for charitable contributions and state and local taxes were important tax breaks that the plan would eliminate. The plan calls for getting rid of the Internal Revenue Service and giving taxpayers a monthly rebate on taxes on purchases up to the poverty line.

If under the FairTax you're not paying any Federal income taxes to start with, Rudy, what are you going to take these deductions from?

Stuck On Stupid

2007-12-04T16:47:00.000-05:00

Da Kid, who'd finally gotten a day off, and I were "out and about" the other day. Our last stop was a big-box home improvement store to pick up some screws and a couple nuts and bolts of a particular (and apparently peculiar) size. We also wanted to do some exploratory shopping.

We're aren't in a big rush. We're getting by but Herself and Da Kid's stove needs replacin' and so does my washing machine. Generally, we both know what we want and some of the manufacturers are offering special deals if you buy more than one appliance at the same time. So, let's see what's out there!

Da Kid's over by the stoves looking at all the different models and I'm checking out the washing machines. This guy, one of the store's salesmen, walks up and tells me he'll be happy to answer any questions I might have.

And I did have a specific question about the difference between two of the washing machines. I asked my question and after obviously a great deal of deep thought, the salesman said he didn't know the answer. But, he'd find out the answer, he said, and be right back.

Except, he never left.

Instead, he stood there telling me about the store's plan to move the appliance section to a different location in the store and why, in his opinion, it was a big mistake.

The store hasn't been moving as many appliances as it thinks it should be selling, and once the sections are merged they're probably going to reduce staff. They don't understand, he said, that buyers expect service!

When he FINALLY shut up, he headed off in Da Kid's direction telling me to let him know if I had any questions regarding the washing machines.

He'd be happy to answer them.
~~~~~
It's not good to mess with a nurse, especially one who's finished up another one of those shifts in the area's emergency room. They have HAD IT!

"Karen," Herself's best friend and a fellow nurse, getting in her car to head home realized she was low on gas. Pulling into a station a few blocks from the hospital, she'd just filled the tank when she felt something pushed against her back and heard, "Give me the keys."

Karen complied and as the two "utes" scrambled into her car, she took off for the station's office yelling, "Call the police! They're stealing my car!"

The cashier was in the process of doing so when the door banged open.

Captured on the station's video surveillance camera that the cops now have, is one of the "utes" — the driver — screaming at Karen, "How do you drive it?"

Then him throwing her keys on the floor in disgust and running out the door when she screamed back, "You can't drive standard, ASSHOLE?"

~~~~~Pam included me in her Wednesday Linkage!

Picture this?

2007-12-01T15:38:00.000-05:00

Ed Gamble

I hate these things!

2007-11-25T16:41:00.000-05:00

Ultimate 2008 Presidential Candidate Matcher Your Result: Mitt Romney Mitt Romney was the governor of Massachusetts, where he was known as a centrist. He reformed the state healthcare system, and would pursue reforms at the national level as well. Romney supports oil drilling in Alaska, but also alternative energy sources. He claims to be conservative on issues like abortion and gay civil unions, and he supports the Iraq war. Romney supports fair trade, as well as a greater focus on math and science in our schools.
Ron Paul
Rudy Guiliani
John McCain
John Edwards
Barack Obama
Hillary Clinton
Dennis Kucinich
Ultimate 2008 Presidential Candidate Matcher Take More Quizzes

Bill Quick suspects this quiz just might be rigged.

Click on over and let me know if your initial response -- even before answering any questions -- was the same as mine: Ron Paul.

Poor baby

2007-11-24T17:53:00.000-05:00

I hadda pee and poop werry werry bad and you were late but I was a werry werry good boy and held it ‘til you got here ...

nibble-nibble-nibble

... and didn't hide when the yappingratdog over there ...

gobble-gobble-gobble

... or yappingfuzzzzydogs over THERE ...

chomp-chomp-chomp

... made noises at me.

AND I'm cute and ... and, what do you mean your pocket's empty. I already ate all the treat's you brought.

But, but ...

(Let's see what happens if I look pathetic.)

Scratch one

2007-11-19T16:57:00.000-05:00

From Fox News Sunday yesterday:

[CHRIS] WALLACE: Now, Thompson and McCain both talk about leaving abortion and gay marriage to the states, the way, in the case of abortion, it was before Roe vs. Wade ever became the law of the land in the first place.

Why isn't that good enough, basically making this a federal issue and leaving it up to each state?

HUCKABEE: Well, it's the logic of the Civil War. If morality is the point here, and if it's right or wrong, not just a political question, then you can't have 50 different versions of what's right and what's wrong.

Again, that's what the whole Civil War was about. Can you have states saying slavery is OK, other states saying it's not?

If abortion is a moral issue — and for many of us it is, and I know for others it's not. So if you decide that it's just a political issue, then that's a perfectly acceptable, logical conclusion.

But for those of us for whom this is a moral question, you can't simply have 50 different versions of what's right.

I like Huckabee and agree with him on several issues, particularly his support of the FairTax. While, in my humble opinion, he isn't ready to be Prez, I've been thinking of him as a good choice for VP. After eight year's seasoning in that position -- especially since it's going to take quite a while for the FairTax -- maybe, then, consideration for Prez.

Then came the portion of yesterday's interview I quoted above.

Abortion is a no-win argument and not the reason I've scratched Huckabee completely from consideration.

I'm neither a Constitutional expert nor a lawyer, but I actually did try to read the Roe v Wade decision years ago. Because of a penumbra of an illumination (or some such), abortion became a Federal right based the Constitution.

Reading and understanding legal stuff is not my strong suit, but the impression it left with me was that the Justice who wrote that mumbo-jumbo was stretching as hard as he could to make his personal preferences into law, forcing it on all of us.

I'd just as soon the Feds leave us all the hell alone as much as possible. Let each state handle what's important to the people living within its boundaries, and that includes abortion.

(Another issue in which Fred Thompson agrees with ME!)

Not Huckabee. Because abortion is morally offensive to HIM, if elected he promises to use the powers of the Federal government to force his beliefs on everyone. To me, that makes him no better than the judge who crafted Roe v. Wade.

Or, any of the Dem candidates who believe we are all nothing more than puppets dancing to the strings the Feds pull.

Shhhh! It's a secret!

2007-11-17T14:48:00.000-05:00

I guess rich folk like Warren Buffet, Bill and Hillary and others who keep saying we should all pay more taxes because the government really needs the money and they can afford to, don't know that if it's really THAT important, they can take a big chunk of their wealth and make it a Gift to the United States.

Ca-RUNCH

2007-11-15T18:22:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago Sheila, my neighbor, telling me the pecans at her father's place had gone completely nuts this year, said her father had asked if "that Yankee neighbor" of hers would like some.

Not just yes but HELL YES! Not that I'd say the word hell around her father.

Sheila's parents and I have always gotten along, especially "Mister" and me after he decided somewhere along the way I'm not too bad for a Yankee. I think it may have started when I was picking okra in his garden.

For as long as Sheila can remember her father has always planted a huge garden. Growing up that's how his family fed themselves and 80 years later, he's still doing it each and every year. After Mister and his wife, "Lady," can or freeze whatever they figure they'll need for the year, he opens the garden up to Sheila first and then other family members. (Then his neighbors and after that, members of the church they attend. Yes, the garden's that big.) Somewhere along the way he began -- when he calls Sheila -- including me.

Sheila and I had already been "swapping food" for years. If the garden Hubby and I used to keep produced an overage of something, I'd take it over to Sheila. If she had more of something than she thought she needed, she'd bring her overage to me. Over the years it's even evolved to ... like, whenever she makes potato salad she sends a container over to me, or chocolate cake.

Mister wasn't feeling well one year when his garden was coming in, so I went over with Sheila to help pick ... whut.ever he told us to. Which was field peas, okra and peanuts that go 'round. He got the biggest kick out of my discovery that peanuts don't grow on the plants leaves (which is where I'd been looking), but are underground attached to its roots.

("I was born a Yankee! What do I know?")

Anyway, it's pecan time. Sheila will bring me some. No, I suggested. Why not let me help you shell yours . . . and then we'll work on mine together! Nothing new there. We've worked together shelling bushels of field peas from Mister's garden. (For the uninitiated, this is something that should only be done with plenty of cold beer available). Worked together on other massive quantities of vegetables, too. But I'm dreading the pecans.

Picking the meat from the shell isn't too bad, it's cracking the nuts I learned long ago that's the real bitch. After even just a few minutes your hands start getting sore. They only get worse, and then the fingers start in. Next, wrists.

It's agony, with my hands frozen in place like claws long after.

But there's this ... this thing I've seen once or twice that I've been looking for for years. I didn't know what it was called but as soon as I began describing it, several people knew exactly what I was talking about. Few had one and had, themselves, been futilely looking for it for years. Those that did it said they'd finally stumbled across one at a flea market (Sheila) or garage sale, or had gotten theirs from a now deceased family member.

I doubted they -- whut.ever they were -- were even made any longer.

To cut to the chase in this already too-long saga, it turns out they are. Not that I ordered it directly from its manufacturer.

(If I had I would have saved a few bucks.)

Instead, I gasped when the cashier in a store that routinely stocks cherry- and olive-pit-popper-outers and hot pepper seed-taker-outers, but didn't have any "nutcrackers" except one that you can also use on lobster claws -- not believing that what I described even existed --pulled up on the computer screen the images of the chain's entire stock of nutcrackers.

And I saw IT. Thee one I've been looking for for years.

IT REALLY DOES EXIST!

UPS delivered my "Reed's Rocket Nutcracker" Tuesday.

~~~~~

I showed it to Herself Wednesday, making her promise that one day -- when I'm gone and she's through using it -- that she'll pass it on to one my grandchildren.

"Sis" has one," she said nonchalantly.

"And where did she get it from," I asked.

"From Mama . . . who got it from Grannie."

Uh-huh!

A bit more than an "OUCH"

2007-11-10T17:50:00.000-05:00

It was around 11:30 and I'd just gone to bed, covering Starbuck up with his blanket so that lying beside me, his shivering didn't keep waking me up during the night. His far more sensitive ears must have picked up the sound just before mine did. I felt him tense, then I heard a noise I've come to know very well over the years: SCREEEEEEEECH.

It went on and on, or more probably is only seemed that way. I remember thinking, somebody took the curve too fast again . . . probably another drunk . . . wonder if he'll pull it out . . . while waiting for the WHUMP of an inpact that often follows.

The screech of brakes stopped, and I had just started thinking somebody was pretty darned lucky when . . . WHUMP, followed immediately by a second.

Just to be on the safe side, the vehicle's sole occupant — its drunken driver— although there wasn't a mark on him, was transported to the hospital for observation. Once released (probably this morning) his next stop is jail until he has his court appearance.

Poor guy. Bad timing, with Monday being a national holiday and all the courts closed.

There was one "fatality." This time, it was obviously a bit more than an OUCH.

It's a "ruff" life

2007-11-08T16:45:00.000-05:00

Cooler weather has arrived in Northeast Florida. The weatherjerks don't have to remind me of that constantly. Starbuck's shivers last night were more than enough.

~~~~~

Zoe, the hostest with the mostest, invites you to join her and a few of her closest friends at Canine Carnival 2!

He's reporting for duty . . . early

2007-11-07T16:42:00.001-05:00

I realize most of the candidates hoping to become their party's nominee in the 2008 presidental elections all started their campaigns earlier than normal, but I think this is a tad on the silly side:

"[John] Kerry said Monday that he might run for president again, perhaps in 2012. -- The Patriot Ledger

John-Boy won't be concerned about the Swiftboat Veterans for Truth disagreeing with his tales about his own heroism in Vietnam this time neither! Nope!

"Kerry, whose service as a U.S. Navy Swift boat skipper during the Vietnam War came under attack in his race against President Bush, said he has compiled a dossier on his war record critics that he wishes he had as the Democratic presidential nominee." (emphasis ed.) -- The Patriot Ledger

That sounds like a plan!

The heck with Kerry finally releasing his full military records for public inspection like he said he would but still has failed to do.

No need!

2007-10-31T18:57:00.000-04:00

I guess they were doing the job Americans won't

2007-10-25T19:17:00.000-04:00

"Six undocumented Mexican immigrants were arrested today by U.S. Border Patrol agents at Qualcomm Stadium, after a report that they were stealing food and water meant for evacuees, according to spokesman Damon Foreman." -- Los Angeles Times

"The six thieves admitted that they were indeed illegal immigrants from Mexico taking advantage of a devastating situation." -- Corruption Chronicles

"What they were doing was taking those supplies and selling them.. . ." -- KPBS

Sweet Revenge

2007-10-23T18:32:00.000-04:00

Da Kid heard it growing up but Hubby and I knew it never sank in. We usually began, "Kids ain't cheap," and often finished with something along the lines of, "but this is insane!"

A good example is the pants Da Kid had to wear as part of his high school uniform. Navy blue Dockers of a specific style. On sale at the beginning of the school year, $45 a pair and he needed five to get through the week. Then after he got out of school and before I could pick him up after work, he'd go play basketball and rip the shit out of 'em.

Once? No, constantly and NOTHING his father or I said would make him stop. Add to it the year he REALLY shot up. What he didn't manage to destroy he outgrew.

Outgrew, four times.

That's only one example. Through it all, as most parents I'm sure do, the only think that kept us from killing him was the knowledge that one day if he became a parent, he'd find himself in the same situation.

Hubby's not here, but I'm sure he knows it's begun. Revenge is ours!

If all goes well, "Bump" will arrive in the late Spring and will, of course, need "stuff." Like a place to sleep.

Da Kid had it all figured out. Walmart! Until I happened to mention he'd better be careful to make sure none of what they carried had been recalled.

"How do you recall a crib?" he asked certain I didn't know what I was talking about.

It's been all over the news, I said quite casually, about the latest round of recalls. Strangled babies. Maybe, I suggested, he'd better start paying more attention to the news.

A few days later Da Kid, Herself and I went on an exploratory run looking at baby furniture at several stores. Which is when, seeing the price tags, Da Kid's eyes began to project about four inches from his face.

(And no help from me or Herself's parents allowed, they insist. Like everything else, they'd do it themselves.)

Manly man that he is (and obviously, desperately wanting to get the hell away from the high-priced nightmare he'd found himself in) Da Kid expansively told Herself to pick out whatever she wanted. He'd work extra shifts to pay for it.

Which has worked out great!

Since he's been working extra shifts at every opportunity to pay for the furniture, Herself and I have gone on our own exploratory runs without having to take him with us.

Today, finally, I looked at Herself and she looked at me. Between us, no words were needed.

"Yep!"

Not five or six hundred dollars like others, and not $350 if we'd ordered it online. But $199 because it's a floor model and has a scratch way down on one of its legs.

Are you nuts, Doyle? You think $199 is a good deal on a crib?

Not exactly.

It also converts to a toddler bed, then a youth bed and finally, a real bed-bed.

The price of the separate, matching changing table / dresser -- last one in stock and also a floor model -- had been slashed, too.

Da Kid can come home now. Instead of the couple thousand he was figuring . . . just over $500. Including tax.

No delivery, though. That would be an additional charge and I strongly suspect -- since he has a big truck -- Da Kid would prefer saving a few more bucks and pick it all up himself.

Especially since before he left, he noticed the price on a package of disposable diapers.

30 years ago this morning

2007-10-20T18:04:00.000-04:00

Thiry years ago this morning I bolted out of bed when the blasted alarm . . . blasted.

Nothing new there. Working full time for the city plus a part-time job, if I didn't have the radio's volume set on BLAST I probably would have slept through it.

My response with automatic. Conditioning like Pavlov's dogs, I guess. I fell in bed at night, exhausted, and the next thing I knew, I was in the shower the next morning, a cup of coffee on the counter from the pot I'd fixed . . . but I never remembered any of it.

I still can't recall any of those mornings, except just one. Something on the blasted, blasting radio stopping me in my tracks before I even got through the bedroom door:

Thirty years ago today, a rented plane took off from Greenville, S.C., headed for Baton Rouge, La. Just before dark, just before it reached the Louisiana line, the plane ran out of fuel and sank toward the Mississippi landscape below.

Not that there were any details. Just the DJ reporting, and later breaking in repeatedly, to say that the plane carrying Lynyrd Skynyrd had crashed.

It's not that I was that familiar with their music. I didn't have the time to listen to much of anything, or do anything except go to work, work, go to the part-time job, work there, get home, fall in bed and then find myself standing in the shower the next morning. To somehow do it all over again.

I knew their name, though. Knew it well.

"It was like we had a dream," said guitarist Gary Rossington, who broke both arms, both legs and other bones in the crash. "Myself, Allen [Collins] and Ronnie, we had a dream to make it as big as we could. We saw The Ed Sullivan Show. We saw the British bands, and we just wanted to make it.

"And there we were, after seven, eight years of doing everything we had to do, playing clubs up and down the coast and not making any money. Playing high school dances.

"Now we were selling millions of albums, we were making money. It was a gas to sell out everywhere we played. It was a dream come true." -- [Source]

Theirs was a "local boys make good" story. It still is.

It was how hard they'd worked before achieving success I'd connected with back then. Maybe even was leaning on harder than I knew, until the blasted radio went off, 30 years ago this morning.

More here

Word for the day:

2007-10-16T17:42:00.000-04:00

Ecochondriacs

Honor thy father

2007-10-12T15:40:00.000-04:00

October 9 was the first anniversary of Hubby's death.

That afternoon, Da Kid came in and showed me the tatoo he'd had done on his shoulder a few hours before.

In passing

2007-10-05T19:03:00.000-04:00

Al Oerter, four-time Olympic gold medalist.

FYI

2007-10-03T16:42:00.000-04:00

"I'm Jim Broussard," he said, "and I took this flag down in honor of my country with … a knife from the United States Army. I'm a veteran, I'm not going to see this done to my country. If they want to fight us, then they need to be men, and they need to come and fight us. But I want somebody to fight me for this flag. They're not going to get it back." -- WorldNetDaily

The flag Broussard is holding, the one he's daring "somebody" to try to take away from him, is the American Flag.

He also cut down and left on the ground the Mexican flag a shop owner in Reno, Nevada, was flying over it.

The American Crazy Lawyers Union has issued a statement that contrary to media reports covering this story that flying another country's flag over our own is NOT illegal.

Newsbusters disagrees with the ACLU and even provides the citation to back it up.

Not surprisingly, Hispanic leaders in Reno are trying to get the bar's Mexican owner to file charges against Broussard.

~~I don't think Broussard has anything to worry about, since I just saw him interviewed by Neil Cavuto, with an attorney already at his side, who seems to agree with Newsbusters.~~

~~~~~
Correction (10-05-07): The person appearing with Broussard was talk radio host Bill Manders.

The Downward Spiral

2007-10-01T17:44:00.001-04:00

A federal court in San Francisco began hearing arguments today on a lawsuit filed by the AFL-CIO, the Chamber of Commerce and the ACLU on behalf of companies that employ illegal aliens.

The Chamber, okay. And the American Crazy Lawyers Union? Both are understandable. But the ALF-CIO?

Why would the biggest union in the country take the side of illegal aliens? Since they'll work for so much less than union labor is paid, isn't the union betraying its membership by helping to driving down wages and making it harder if not impossible for them to find work?

[The roofing company is] having a rough go of it because they're constantly being underbid (on both their commercial and residential sides) by companies whose employees don't speak Redneck.
And can't speak English, either. -- Doyle

From the The Wall Street Journal:

The impending crackdown generates everything "from concern to utter panic among roofing contractors," says Craig Silvertooth, director of federal affairs for the National Roofing Association, based in Chicago, representing 4,300 businesses. "There is no way to run your business if this goes forward."

(Please read the whole thing.)

The "impending crackdown" is part of what we've demanded the Federal government do to begin enforcing our immigration laws.

The Social Security Administration long has mailed out routine letters that inform employers if an employee's name and Social Security number don't match up. Homeland Security wants to insert notices in those mailings warning employers that they must fire any employee who doesn't clear up a no-match situation in 90 days -- or face prosecution. -- The Sacramento Bee

So why, I'm sure you're still wondering, is the AFL-CIO siding with the illegal aliens instead of its members who have and are using their own Social Security numbers? You know, American-born or immigrants who are working here legally?

Again from the Sacramento Bee:

Only 12 percent of the U.S. workforce is unionized today, and while the number of U.S.-born union workers declined 9 percent in the last decade, the number of immigrants in unions grew 30 percent, according to a new study by the Migration Policy Institute, a pro-immigrant research group in Washington, D.C.

Robert Balgenorth, president of the California chapter of the AFL-CIO's Building and Construction Trades Department, pointed out that union strength in the housing-construction industry has waned dramatically as undocumented workers arrived not just from Latin America but also from places such as Ireland, Russia and Scotland.

Allowing workers to earn legal status, and be bolder, Balgenorth said, would help unions replenish their ranks.

The unions provide support to the politicians who are trying every way they can to "regularize" illegal aliens, so that they can then become dues-paying union members, and then the politician get more campaign contributions ...

And then with the DREAM Act and Hilliary Health and her "Baby-Bond," they ALL get to keep living high off the hog, and WE get to pick up even more of the tab than we already are.

Chicken Wings!

2007-09-29T17:02:00.000-04:00

In this weekend's edition of his Weekend Cooking Thread, Chef Mojo is talking about what food people like to eat while watching the game.

So, I posted my recipe for chicken wings and included a picture of some I'd fixed a while back.

Well, the pic blew up so as I said I would, I'm putting it here. Meanwhile, the recipe is over there.

If you're confused don't feel badly. So am I.

Getting away with murder

2007-09-27T17:23:00.000-04:00

Earlier this week Marliano Alberto (pictured) was sentenced to 10 years behind bars in a plea-bargain deal, for the drunk-driving accident in which Russell Nevado was killed.

Alberto, an illegal alien, looks really upset, doesn't he. Yep. He sure does.

The judge also revoked his license for the rest of his life. -- Source

License? Drivers license?

Good move, I guess, since after he's served his sentence Alberto will be turned over to the immigration authorities for deportation.

Let's see now.

With gain time, good time and all the other speshul allowances that enable criminals to serve only a small fraction of their sentence, Alberto will probably be out in less than three years. Then after being deported (if he actually is) he can just bop right back into the United States through our porous borders.

Maybe head to New York State where he can get a DIFFERENT drivers license because by order of that state's idiot governor, illegal aliens can receive them now.

Poor Alberto.

With the way things are going, no wonder he looks so upset.

~~~~~
Previously: What a difference a year makes!

I'm so ashamed

2007-09-26T18:35:00.000-04:00

I'm not much of a sweet eater but I do get a "sweet attack" occasionally. It's usually easily satisfied with a container of fruit yogurt. If it's a really bad bout, I grab a Twinkie from the box I bought months ago.

But when I saw that cake sitting on Sheila's kitchen table a few weeks ago I asked her, if she could, to save me a slice. I HAD to have some.

Each year with our birthdays only a week apart, Sheila and I throw our own birthday party on the Saturday in between, and invite whoever we damned well want. It's BYOB and while we do the bulk of the cooking, some people bring dishes with them. This year we added a twist: Paula Dean.

Most of what we cooked would come from her recipes. And that cake, Sheila said, was one of them.

You can eat hot wings, ribs, pulled pork and a host of other foods while drinking beer, but chocolate cake? Uh, no. Definitely not me, anyway, which is why I'd asked her to try to save me a slice. Except instead of saving a slice, before anybody got any she stashed a HUNK of it away.

For me.

And giggled evilly when she handed it to me the next day after we were done cleaning up.

That night the horror began. It continued for two more nights after. I'd tell myself to STOP. To put it back in the refrigerator, or with as rich as that cake was I'd be sick.

Did I stop?

Hell, no.

On the fourth night, with none left, I still wanted more.

I was safe, I thought. I'd get over it. Except I didn't. Each night my craving got worse. And worse still each night after. But I'd be okay, I told myself again and again, because I didn't have the recipe.

Then, completely and TOTALLY by accident, I found it in Paula's cooking magazine.

(Sheila and I both subscribe.)

Besides, I didn't have a bunt pan to bake it in!

(So I bought one. And then on the way home, picked up the two ingredients for it I didn't have.)

Once the Double Chocolate Chip Pound Cake cooled, I cut it into quarters.

I gave one quarter to Da Kid and Herself. Another I took to her parents. And laughing evilly -- paybacks are hell -- I brought the third quarter to Sheila.

The other quarter, the last one, is mine.

All mine.

MINE!

~~~~~
(For some reason I can't exactly put my finger on, I strongly suspect the person who posted the recipe seemingly as her own, also subscribes to "Cooking with Paula.")

Liquid Sunshine

2007-09-25T14:02:00.000-04:00

Quotable Quotes

2007-09-21T15:54:00.000-04:00

"Not all Canadian health care is long lines and lack of innovation. We found one place where providers offer easy access to cutting-edge life-saving technology, such as CT scans. And patients rarely wait.

But they have to bark or meow to get access to this technology. Vet clinics say they can get a dog or a cat in the next day. People have to wait a month." -- John Stossel

I DON'T think so.

2007-09-20T17:33:00.000-04:00

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, President of Iran, accepted an invitation to speak at the United Nations next week. Since he's going to be here anyway, good ol' Mahmoud wants to express his condolences for the lives lost on nine-eleven by laying a wreath at Ground Zero.

Trying to let Mahmoud know that he's really not welcome, New York City said they wouldn't help at all with the security he'd need.

Not taking the hint, Mahmoud said maybe it could be worked out anyway and that he was "'amazed' that Americans view[ed] his request to visit the site as insulting."

(Duh!)

The Feds said if Mahmoud still wewwy, wewwy wanted to go to Ground Zero, they'd take care of the security themselves.

New York City has now said that they won't permit Mahmoud to go there.

And rightly so.

Iran sponsors terrorism. It has killed Americans before, is doing so now in Iraq and will continue to do so at every opportunity.

Does anyone really think that the wreath Mahmoud wants to lay at Ground Zero is for those in the Twin Towers who were murdered on September 11, 2001? The passengers and crew of the two planes that were crashed into them?

Not just no, but HELL no!

Sorry about that, Mahmoud, but we're on to you.

Your idea of a photo op -- that will be shown by Al Jazerra, CNN International and other terrorist-supporting outlets as soon as the pictures are taken -- laying a wreath at the site to honor ten hi-hackers IS a bit much.

Screw you.

Floatin' Down Memory Lane

2007-09-19T17:53:00.000-04:00

Pam asked if like Houston, floods occur here each year. I tried to explain that it's kind of a yes and no situation. Overall, no. But in some spots . . . yes.

The reasons may be different for different areas, but let there be heavy, sustained rainfall it's ga-run-teed one of the places the reporters will ALWAYS talk about is San Marco. Its streets ALWAYS seem to be one of those under water. Especially this intersection.

Every time it floods there, for 30 some-odd years the media shows people from Public Works cleaning that particular drain. Probably longer than that, but before that I wasn't here and until just after that, I'd never been to Applejack's.

It's trendy, now. Spanish-styled exteriors and Applejack's long gone, but the corner itself hasn't changed. I recognized it immediately when I saw the pic in today's paper.

Usta be if you wanted a quick lunch at a good price -- take-out or eat-in -- the place to go was Applejack's. It wasn't every day but a bit fancier fare . . . say, on payday to celebrate surviving another two weeks on the job.

The only downside was trying to find a parking place, and doing that could eat up most of your lunch time. Unless you learned pretty quickly to park on the street behind, hoof it to their counter, and go.

Parking on the street behind Applejack's had an added advantage, too. Since it was (is still?) on higher ground than San Marco, you could be reasonably assured that your vehicle wouldn't be up to the middle of its hub caps (or worse) in standing water when it rained.

You might have to pull your shoes off when you left the car to wade to Applejack's front door, but . . . well, we were all young once.

Weren't we?

And if we were ten minutes late getting back to work, "Queen Bitch" -- our supervisor -- just might not dock us. We weren't just going for our lunch. We were bringing back her lunch, too.

Applejack's was the place to go out with "the gang from work," too. Pizza, cheap wine, beer and on Friday nights a band. No one had much money to spare, so you pooled your change figuring out before you went in what everyone could have.

Inside, on Friday nights, local boys strummin' and singin'. Or trying to figure out if they placed their mic here instead of there, or moved their amplifiers a bit, maybe they could go back to playing because they'd stopped the ear-splitting squeal that could bust ear drums, and maybe be discovered and make it big.

Thunder outside. The sound of rain falling. Tapered candles burning -- stuck in dusty old wine bottles coated with the drippings of who knows how many candles burnt before them -- on the tables.

Powers out again. Shut off, actually, to make sure no one got electrocuted while Applejack's owners and employees grabbed sandbags from a storage area to stack them outside the door trying to keep the water from coming in.

Again.

Ah, the memories.

We all get older.

Times change.

The only thing that lasts is flooding in the "usual areas."

A little bit wet

2007-09-18T18:13:00.000-04:00

The front page headline of today's paper reads, 'NIGHTMARE OF A DAY'. Like this has never happened before? The flooding, I mean. It has, several times over the years, and always in the usual spots. With as many newcomers as we have now, I guess they just don't know what areas to avoid.

What was different, though, is that while some areas had to deal with as much as 8 inches of rain, I didn't get even single drop.

Not one.

Not that it didn't get . . . uh, interesting from time to time.

With both Da Kid and Herself both at work, I'd planned on going over to their house around noon to let the Granddog out to commune with nature. Instead, after looking out the window around 11 and seeing an endless, particularly dark purple-blue cloud in that general direction I said, "Oh shit!" packed up stuff to do in case I got stuck there for a while, and headed out the door.

No need. Their sidewalk was a bit damp when I arrived and left about 30 minutes later. Their total rainfall accumulation, according to the National Weather Service, was a whole tenth of an inch.

I had a few other, "Oh Shit" moments during the day when it got VERY dark outside way too quickly, or when a strong gust of wind came out of nowhere.

Today was a repeat of yesterday -- dark and windy -- without all the rain and flooding south of me.

The weatherjerks are saying it might get . . . uh, interesting again tonight. Same system, too.

It's just sitting there off the coast, they're saying, maybe getting a bit more . . . uh, interesting.

"Wake me up ...

2007-09-18T17:34:00.000-04:00

... when it's time to go to bed."

FYI

2007-09-17T17:14:00.000-04:00

Happy Constitution Day and Citizenship Day!

Whazzat?

In 2005 and . . .

. . . pursuant to legislation passed by Congress, educational institutions receiving Federal funding are required to hold an educational program pertaining to the United States Constitution on September 17 of each year.

Meanwhile . . .

Just three months after the Senate immigration bill met its well-deserved end, amnesty advocates in the U.S. Congress resumed their efforts. Recently, Senator Richard Durbin (D–IL) announced on the Senate floor his intention to offer the Development, Relief, and Education for Alien Minors (DREAM) Act as an amendment to the defense authorization bill. -- Human Events Online

(I can sure understand how that amendment ties in with the defense authorization bill. Yep! Sure can. That's how the Dems FINALLY got the hike in the minimimum wage passed. By amendment, they tied it to military funding for our troops in Afghanistan and Iraq. But let's not EVER criticize their patriotism, okay?)

Read the Human Events article and as you do, perhaps you can think of a way to help me with a problem.

I've been trying to figure out how Constitution and Citizenship Day is taught in classes filled with illegal aliens, who aren't even asked to learn to speak English.

And I can't.

Sacrilege

2007-09-13T18:18:00.000-04:00

People who know me know that I'm not much of a cryer. They know if tears begin to well in my eyes, it's usually because I'm angry. So angry it's best to get as far away from me as possible as fast as possible, because if those tears actually fall . . . well. It's not good.

When I first read about it at Michelle Malkin's, my initial reaction was disbelief. Then, as I followed the links she provided, I could feel the tears beginning to build. Even now they're this close.

Have you been to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D. C. If you have, you know. If not, let me try to describe it to you.

It's frequently been described as powerful. It is, but that's only part of it.

From the distance (and in most photographs) it looks quite small. It's only as you walk closer that its length and height become increasingly obvious. Then, just as slowly, you begin to notice something mars the entire shiney black. You know what it is, but until you get close enough you keep telling yourself it can't be. Maybe it's the light . . . or something else making it look that way. But while you're trying to convince yourself that's what it is, you still know.

It's the names of the over 50,000 men and women who were killed in the Vietnam War, or to this day remain missing.

Some say it's powerful. To me, and Da Kid who was with me, it was overwhelming.

"So many," he whispered. Half question, the other half . . . I don't know what.

There, people whisper to each other. Maybe because it knocks the breath out of you.

Here and there in front of different panels might be a flower someone left for a person named on it. A small American flag. A book or toy.

A man about my age stood silently in front of one panel the entire time we were there, staring at it, tears running down his cheeks.

The pages in the directory was yellow and torn, but I found the names of the three I knew: The older brothers of two high school friends, and one I'd gone to high school with. And managed to find their places on The Wall.

If people need an anti-war symbol, they should forget the pink bunny ears some have worn and stupid signs they carry. The Vietnam Veterans Memorial and all the names engraved on it carries a far more powerful message.

But no. Instead, the Lefty Loons decided that the way to get their "message" across, was to vandalize The Wall with an oily substance.

Now if you'll all excuse me, the tears are right there again.

I'd better go.

LATER: In an update, Human Events Online reports that the National Park Service is "Walking on Eggshells."

“The United States Park Police is investigating the matter. Until this investigation is completed, it is premature to speculate whether any intentional act was committed,” is the official statement.

But . . .

Bill Line, NPS Communications & Tourism Officer for the National Capital Region adds that although crews have been working since Saturday to remove the substance, they don’t even know what it is, much less who splattered it on the memorial.

But one thing is certain. Despite the claims that were later retracted when discrepancies were noted, the incident most certainly does NOT appear to have been caused by an accidental spill of cleaning fluid by a park ranger. Park rangers are not involved in cleaning or maintenance of the memorial, Line confirmed.

The Park Service is hopeful, but not certain, that when the material is finally removed it will not have left any permanent damage.

I haven't seen a darn thing about this on the news. Heck, I guess they're just too danged busy covering O. J.

I Like Fred

2007-09-12T14:55:00.000-04:00

Via GuyK at Charming, Just Charming -- who got it from somebody else -- a Candidate Calculator that ranks the 08 Presidential candidates according to your views.

Not surprisingly . . .

Remember

2007-09-11T16:30:00.001-04:00

Dear Osama,

2007-09-08T18:25:00.000-04:00

"[B]urning living beings is forbidden in our religion, even if they be small like the ant, so what of man?!" -- Osama bin Laden in his latest video.

~~~~~

How 'bout women, Osama-baby? Children?

After reading the transcript of your latest video, I really think you've been hitting Daily Kos a bit much.

By the looks of your new "do," you definitely need to get out more, too. Let the professionals take care of your hair coloring. They do so much better a job than those in-cave dye jobs that come in a box.

If your beard looks that bad, (it's a lousy cut, too) I can only imagine how badly the hair on your head turned out. No wonder you're wearing that hat to hide it. Good move, but trust me on this. The Jackie-Kennedy-pillbox style you're wearing went out of fashion 45 years ago.

I know it goes with the bathrobe you're wearing, Osama-baby, but you need ditch that, too. I realize clothes shopping's been difficult for you, but how many times are you going to wear that ol' thing? You were wearing the same one the last time we saw you!

(I know, I know. It's comfortable. I really do understand. I have a bathrobe just like yours, except mine's baby blue.)

I'm sure no one wants to tell you this, Osama-baby, but no matter how many "wives" you have at your beck and call, you're really not "Hef." Just 'cause he runs around his mansion in his pj's 24/7 doesn't mean you should.

He has Bunnies and a mansion! You, a cave! See the difference?

Anyway . . . "write" again soon, Osama-baby.

We've missed you.

Woof!

2007-09-08T15:35:00.000-04:00

Mary Jane is so shy she flunked her Seeing-Eye Dog School.

Ricky Bobby Baby Jesus (shown) is so energetic and "feisty," he was one day away from being put down by an animal shelter after three families had returned him.

Now both, among other "misfits," are graduates of an ATF school for bomb-sniffing dogs.

The story is here.

Quotable Quotes

2007-09-04T16:29:00.000-04:00

"A joke says that a poll was taken in California, asking if people thought illegal immigration was a serious problem. The results showed that 29 percent said, 'Yes, there is a serious problem.' But 71 percent said, 'No es una problema seriosa.'" -- Thomas Sowell

FYI

2007-08-28T17:17:00.000-04:00

Neal Boortz made this the first link in his "Reading Assignments" today saying, "You just have to read this. God bless Martha Cothren."

Yep.

Blackened Steak

2007-08-27T16:42:00.000-04:00

On the days when Da Kid's off and Herself works, he cooks. When she's off and he's been working, she does.

"‘Herself's' cooking tonight," Da Kid said. "She's grilling steaks," he added happily as he walked out the door the other day. He'd stopped by here quickly to change out of his uniform after he got out of orientation.

The community center "up the road a piece" has hosted pickup basketball (I guess that's what it's called) for years. From 5 p.m. to 9 p.m. and all day Saturday and Sunday guys — from business executives to local kids — go up there to play whut.ever their games are called: two on two, three on three, four on . . . Like I know?

Da Kid's played up there for years but hasn't had much of a chance in a while. Rather than go home and change, if he changed his clothes here rather than go home and then double back, he'd have a little more time to play before dinner.

The phone rang around 6:30. It was Herself.

"How do I turn the grill on?"

I didn't think anything of it. Herself's family is charcoal-based like I used to be, until I got the hang of cooking on a gas grill. Remembering how worried I was initially that I'd blow something (primarily myself) up at first, and telling Herself I wasn't familiar with theirs, I explained the importance of first opening the grill's lid. I then described how on mine -- the one Herself and Da Kid bought -- I turned the gas for one burner on HIGH and then hit the ignition button. Once that burner was going, turning gas on for the next burner. And once that started, the one after that.

If the first burner didn't start, I told Herself, shut everything off and call me. Immediately.

Five minutes. No call. Then ten. Fifteen! Twenty minutes!!! My explanation must have ...

The phone rang. It was Herself screaming into my ear:

"HOW DO I SHUT THIS THING OFF!"

"Why?"

"IT'S ON FIRE!"

"What's on fire?"

"THE GRILL!"

After determining through Herself's screams to someone outside (Was that "Karen's" voice screaming back? Yep.) that only the grilling area itself and the steaks were "fully involved," there was no need for me to suggest to Herself that she push the grill into the pool to save the house.

"Shut the gas off," I said.

"SHUT THE GAS OFF!" I heard Herself scream from the house phone in the kitchen.

("I CAN'T REACH THE GAS!!!")

For the record, Karen is one of Herself's fellow nurses and her best friend. Both are brilliant and in their work setting a helluva team. Which is why BOTH were requested, together, for the newly-created unit in the ER. But right now?" Oh, jeez. Anyway . . .

"Spray the flames with the water bottle."

‘WE DID. ALL IT DID WAS SPREAD!"

"The water made the grease spread. Take the meat off the grill," I continued, "and keep spraying the flames. They WILL go out."

"GET THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL!"

("I CAN'T! IT'S ON FIRE!")

"It's out," Herself finally reported.

"‘Da Kid' should be here doing this instead of playing his stupid basketball," she continued. She started saying something about it serving Da Kid right if she went out and brought back cold, greasy burgers from the drive-through, when the whooping sound started.

And the Granddog began howling.

"I'LL CALL YOU BACK," Herself somehow yelled over the cacophony.

And, she hung up.

Which is when I called Da Kid on his cell phone. Not that he'd be carrying it on him while playing basketball, I knew, but when he got back to his truck his phone would be beeping and checking the message(s) he missed, first in the queue would be mine:

Everything's okay but I think a certain firefighter might be needed at (Da Kid and Herself's address). Please call your wife . . . NOW!"

Minutes later my phone rang again. It wasn't Da Kid. It was Herself telling me that a firefighter had appeared. It wasn't the one she's married to, though.

If fact, she said, there had been several firefighters. Engines and pumpers, too, — with sirens screaming and lights flashing — answering the automatic fire alarm on their security system, triggered by the smoke billowing through the open kitchen door from the grill outside.

Common Sense

2007-08-24T16:20:00.000-04:00

The importance of personal responsibility

August 23, 2007

Neil Cavuto

Word of warning, what I'm about to say is going to annoy people. Maybe really annoy people. Maybe so much so they will never watch me again.

So be it. I want to talk about two words. Two simple words. Personal responsibility.

I fear, as a country, we've forgotten those two simple words. Easier to shift blame. But I fear the "shift" has hit the fan. And it's getting expensive.

Expensive, because politicians are scrambling to bail out homeowners they say were duped into signing stupid mortgages. At the same time we're bailing out folks who rebuild the same damaged home, the same way, the same construction, just to do it all over again, when said rebuilt home suffers the same fate.

I'm not saying there aren't duplicitous lenders. Or uncontrollable acts of God. But I also know we make our own choices. Just like we should read our own mortgages. It just amazes me that for those who didn't read the fine print, the rest of us have to pay the big bill? Or for those who opted not to get flood insurance, the rest of us are flooded with bills.

Look, disasters happen. And we help. That's human nature. That's human decency. What is perverse nature, and indecent, is someone taking advantage of that kindness.

In the case of homeowners who rebuild in the same risky areas with the same risky construction, without the risk of their own money. Or in the case of homebuyers who clearly didn't read what they were getting into, looking for our money.

Bad on them. Bad on us. Personal insult. Not personal responsibility.

They're out of this world

2007-08-23T17:15:00.000-04:00

"Kay" was in the middle of trimming my hair today when she noticed the time. "The news is on," she said flipping on the little portable television next to her station. "Let's see what new things we can feel all depressed about."

Feel the same way?

Then let me invite you to start seeing the news through a . . . uh, a slightly different persective. For example, the latest tape released by Ayman Al-Zawahiri, Al Qaeda's second in command? Instead of the translations already provided by the news, try this one instead. It begins:

I'd like to start with a shout out to all my homies in the international jihad. You go guys, you put the fun in fundamentalist dictatorships.

FOX says that its news coverage is "fair and balanced" because it offers both sides an opportunity to comment. So does The Moxargon Group.

Kinda.

The opinions expressed on this blog are the opinions held by the Overlord of the Ultra-Galactic Empire, Remulak MoxArgon, and his Minions, and, henceforth, are the correct opinions of the Ultra-Galactic Empire. *

*Except for (liberals) Snotglob and Varos, they exist for comic relief.

Keep watching the skies, fellow bloggers, because they're watching us.

The dummies

2007-08-17T17:32:00.000-04:00

"Every improvident loan requires an improvident borrower to seek and accept it." -- George Will

~~~~~
The news has been filled with stories about all the people who are losing their homes due to foreclosures. I guess I'm supposed to be horrified and feel sorry for them,. I'm not and I don't.

What does bother me is the idea that the Federal government is supposed to step in and bail these folk out.

Why?

Well . . . because . . . uh, it's the fault of the companies that TRICKED them into mortgages they couldn't afford.

Yep! Sure is!

Jumped right out, grabbed these people and FORCED them to move into a house, and not just any house either! Nope! It was house they knew these folk simply couldn't afford to make monthly mortgage payments on.

(Oops. I forgot the exclamation point.)

Obviously Da Kid and Herself really screwed up when they bought their home last year. Got it all bass ackwards. The dummies.

First, they worked out a monthly budget based on what they were earning. Not what they might next month (or year or decade) but what they had been and not gross but net. From that they subtracted monthly expenses such as car payments, estimated utility bills, the cost of food, etc. The balance was what they had to pay a mortgage with each month.

With that information they went to the bank they'd been dealing with (individually and later together) for several years and showing their figures to a loan officer, pre-qualified for a boring, 30-year conventional mortgage that would cover a house costing up to X amount.

To make matters even worse, The Deadly Duo only gave serious consideration to houses within that limit. Yeah, they looked a several that exceeded that amount (and by quite a bit), but those were Grins and Giggle stops, usually punctuated with the line, "How the HELL could anyone afford to pay that kind of mortgage!" once the sales agent was out of earshot.

What a mistake.

Da Kid and Herself should have bought a house they couldn't possibly afford to pay the monthly mortgage on. If they had, if the Hildabeast and her herd get their way, we'd be paying their mortgage instead of them.

The dummies.

I hate these things!

2007-08-15T18:11:00.000-04:00

You Are an Excellent Cook

You're a top cook, but you weren't born that way. It's taken a lot of practice, a lot of experimenting, and a lot of learning.

It's likely that you have what it takes to be a top chef, should you have the desire...

Are You A Good Cook?

Spotted at Chef Mojo's

Guess what I got in the mail!

2007-08-14T19:50:00.000-04:00

I got another letter from the Republican National Committee today! Not an email like the dozens Mike Duncan, its chairman has sent, asking me for a donation, but an actual form letter from him telling me just how speshul I am. And as proof that I'm so speshul, the letter even asks me to fill out an enclosed questionnaire.

Not everybody is getting this questionnaire, neither, "because it is cost prohibitive for the Republican Party to print and mail an OFFICIAL REPUBLICAN PARTY CENSUS to each and every one of the 62,000,000 Republicans nationwide"!

Because I'm so speschul (And you're not!) MY "answers will represent the views and opinions of all Republican voters living in (my) voting district"!

Well dang. I guess the results they received from the speshul folk they sent last year's BLUEPRINT for the Republican Party for the next ten years, the RNC may have learned a thing or two or three.

This time, not only aren't they asking me to send my completed questionnaire back within a specific time frame, of the 23 policy statements I'm asked to Agree or Disagree with or mark as Undecided, this time they even included two involving illegal immigration!

HOMELAND SECURITY MEASURES

4. Should we do everything we can to stop Democrats from repealing critical border and port security legislation?

DOMESTIC ISSUES

1. Do you agree that we must stop illegal immigration?

Not that my answers are going to count. In fact, they're not going to be included at all.

It's not that I'm not going to complete my GOP Survey and mail it back in the self-addressed, postage-paid envelope. I am.

My answers won't be counted because I'm not going to include the $11 the RNC says is required "to cover the cost of tabulating (my) survey."

I'm guessing that when the RNC has been asking for donations, instead of the dinero they need, they've gotten too many of these:

Too much blather about stopping illegal immigration with absolutely no substance of a lasting nature to show for it, just because Mike Duncan seems to have become the "face" of the RNC instead of its General Chairman, Mel Martinez (R FL), nothing's changed..

They're about to get another one.

"Eggs in a bag"

2007-08-08T17:34:00.000-04:00

Years ago I heard (or read) about it, and then almost immediately ~~forgot~~ temporarily neglected to remember anything about it until a few months ago.

It had been one of those days. It was late and I still needed to figure out something for me to eat for dinner. It's not that I didn't have plenty of food to choose from, or "fast food" I could have grabbed from in the freezer in the garage. It's just that I wasn't in the mood for any of it. What I was wanted was breakfast -- eggs, specifically -- but the thought of pulling the pans out of the closet and then cleaning up the dishes and pans after?

No. That was just too much work.

I had the bread out and was reaching into the cabinet for the jar of peanut butter — I had to eat something — when the box of pint-size, freezer strength Ziploc bags jumped into my hand screaming, "IDIOT! You ~~temporarily neglected to remember~~ forgot about even trying . . . "

(That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.)

Did it work? Yep! And well, too. So well that when Da Kid called a few weeks ago . . .

~~~~~

Da Kid called saying he'd be coming by when he got off duty the next morning, to do more cleanup work on the tree. Could I, he asked, fix breakfast for him.

It's not that I wouldn't. The problem is I'm not a breakfast cook, especially compared to Hubby. I get it done, eventually, but I can't whip out eggs cooked-to-order like he did.

How ‘bout "eggs in a bag," I asked.

"What?"

Uh, you want bacon, too, I'm sure.

When Da Kid came in the next morning instead of finding breakfast ready, he found I'd already prepped everything for us to cook our eggs together. In Ziploc freezer bags.

~~~~~

EGGS IN A BAG

(1) Coffee mug for each person.
(1) Pint-size, freezer-strength Ziploc bag for each mug.
(1) Pot of boiling water.

Line the mug with the freezer bag, pulling the edges of the bag over the mug's top to anchor it, then push the bag into the mug to make a pocket.

With me so far? Good.

Dump whut.ever into the pocket.

(Da Kid crumpled into his the bacon I'd already cooked, and no-longer-frozen shredded cheddar cheese from the bag I'd taken out of the freezer. Me? Diced ham, diced bell pepper, diced ~~Valdosta~~ Vidalia Onion and shredded cheddar cheese.)

Beat eggs, three for each mug, and pour into pocket.

Salt and pepper to taste.

Remove the bag from the mug.

Take as much air as possible (but don't go totally nuts about it) out of the bag, then seal the bag securely.

Squish the bag to mix its contents.

Place the bag in the boiling water.

Gently stir the bags until a few minutes later they begin to float (because of the air you weren't able to get out of the bag).

Fifteen minutes (or so) after the water has returned to a rolling boil, it's done!

Remove the bag, open it, and flop your eggs on your plate.

~~~~~

"Mom, it looks like an omelette!"

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

Picture this?

2007-08-06T19:20:00.000-04:00

Via Neal Boortz

MINE!

2007-08-05T17:37:00.000-04:00

Starbuck and the Granddog haven't been around each other all that much. We've been working on that with visits back and forth, but the situation is rather awkward.

Starbuck picked Da Kid as his Chosen Person For Life long ago, back when he was still a ward of the animal hopsital and Da Kid, his primary vet tech. Now, when Da Kid comes for a visit he often stinks of another dog, and sometimes even brings that Other Dog with him.

To make matters even worse, when Da Kid sits on the couch -- where he and Starbuck snoozed together for years -- the Granddog jumps up with HIS CPFL.

Starbuck reached his limit today when Da Kid flopped on the couch to watch television and immediately started dozing off, and the Granddog jumped up with him, curling up against Da Kid's belly fully intending to doze off himself.

Enough was enough. Starbuck took action.

Levitating over the end of the couch, he slurped the Granddog full in the face to make him move, before snuggling up where he always has behind Da Kid's legs, announcing clearly that when it comes to Da Kid, He's my pillow, not yours.

Quotable Quotes

2007-08-01T19:40:00.000-04:00

"Mom, now that I'm not living here anymore, I can't AFFORD to eat the way I used to." -- Da Kid after I mentioned he doesn't seem eat as much as he used to, while he snacked on a half box of cereal.

I still stink . . .

2007-07-31T18:27:00.000-04:00

. . . but, I'm making progress.

While I'm taking care of the "little stuff," Da Kid's been working on the logs, cutting them into chunks that would fit in a fire place. A BIG fire place, which I don't have. As a matter of fact, I don't have one at all. But he's stacking the logs (some of which he's even split) in front of the garage sure that all he has to do is put a sign up and people will immediately start lining up to buy firewood.

In August.

Wub my tummy

2007-07-22T19:46:00.000-04:00

FYI

2007-07-17T17:26:00.000-04:00

I just want you all to know that GuyK at Charming, Just Charming is going to be in big trouble. From now on we'll get to "hear" the OTHER side of the story.

His wife, Sweetthing, has just started her own blog.

I stink

2007-07-15T18:44:00.000-04:00

A more appropriate title is, "I'm too damned old for this shit."

Just a year ago this tree had leaves and held a bird's nest. Suddenly it, like a few other trees in the neighborhood, was dead.

One neighbor announced grand plans last January to bring in a bucket truck that his stepfather has access to and while he was taking out his tree, that he'd do the neighborly thing and take care of Sheila's and mine at the same time. Not that after after knowing him all these years Sheila or believed it would ever happen, so we weren't disappointed when it never did.

Besides, "George" — Da Kid's brother-in-law — had already said he'd take care of my tree and Sheila's as soon as he and Da Kid had the same day off, and he could get his employer's bucket truck on a day when it wasn't being used.

When Da Kid was off George wasn't. When George was off Da Kid was working. And the few days they were off at the same time, the bucket truck was in use. Finally it all came together and they took the trees down before they fell down.

(Sheila's and mine only. The "other neighbor," who said he was going to take care of all of our trees, showed up in his usual "herbal haze" — when the work was done — with a pair of MANUAL hedge clippers telling everyone how HE would have done it, and what THEY -- Da Kid and George -- needed to do when they started on his tree.

George is a man of few words, not that he needed many when after hearing what the "other neighbor" was saying, he positioned the bucket he was in directly OVER his head and yelled over to us, "Can I?"

The "other neighbor" looked up, and then left.)

As his schedule permits, Da Kid's now cutting the big debris into manageable pieces. And I'm taking care of the smaller stuff, as I can, with my battery-powered, Black and Decker tree- limb-lopper-offer. It wasn't designed for what I've been putting it through, but even Da Kid -- with his chain saw -- has been impressed by it.

The only problem he has with it is that it's battery powered. Once the battery runs down, I can't cut any more until its recharged. After about an hour or so of cutting, it's out of power until I take the battery off the charger the next morning.

I've refused Da Kid's repeated offer to buy me a light-weight chain saw or a gas-powered tree-limb-lopper-offer, both of which he assures me would work longer.

Trust me. I ain't stupid.

When the battery's done I — once again drenched in sweat and my knees wobbly because of the heat — explained to him, so am I.

2007-07-04T12:36:00.000-04:00

I-9

2007-06-30T16:55:00.000-04:00

If you've done any hiring (or been hired) since the 1986 amnesty given to illegal aliens, you're probably familiar with the form known as an I-9. If not . . .

Part of the law required that an I-9 had to be completed on all new hires to prove that they were in the United States legally, and therefore allowed to work.

Initially it was a big deal. If the Feds ever questioned the legal status of one of the people we hired (they never did) I figured I'd end up in the slammer since it was my signature on the form saying I'd examined the specific, original documents it required, if they turned out to be bogus.

Not that long after, though, it just became another bothersome piece of paper that had to be stuck in the person's personnel file when Human Resources, facing the threat of a lawsuit, said although I was still required to view specific documents all new hires were required to submit, they didn't have to be the originals. The law, it seems, said photocopies of the documents could also be accepted which, in my humble opinion, made the requirement completely worthless.

Not that I liked the requirement to start with. First off, I'm not a trained document examiner. How would I possibly know if the document handed to me was authentic? Counterfeit documents of that nature weren't as prevalent as they are now, but still. It was my butt on the line.

But more than that I just resented the whole damned thing.

Thanks to this new requirement, now I -- a citizen of the United States -- would have to prove that I was every single time I went for a job. And every other person legally in the United States would have to do the same thing.

I felt like we were being punished, instead of those who'd broken the law. And, we were and still are.

~~~~~
Fast forward 21 years to the No-Illegal-Alien-Left-Behind bill and some of its provisions:

All an illegal alien had to do was prove that they'd gotten into the United States before January 1, and they were eligible to file an application for amnesty. The Feds would have 24 hours to complete a background check and, if sufficient reason was found, deny the application, or, the applicant would receive "legal status."

Whut.ever that is.

Anyway, many of we "racist-nativists" who opposed the bill thought this provision was particularly funny.

Having also done eligibility determinations for social service programs (I have a checkered past), I know it can take hours (and sometimes days) to track down verifications on just one application. And now thousands (perhaps millions) had to be completed in one day?

Even better, or worse, the applicant could prove that they were in the United States before January 1 simply by providing "bank records, records from a day-labor center and sworn affidavits from known relatives."

Talk about stringent, fraud-proof, requirements!

~~~~~
Anticipating passage of the No-Illegal-Alien-Left-Behind bill, Julio Leija-Sanchez, a Mexican national in the United States (illegally, of course) expanded his already-lucrative business to meet a new demand:

Julio Leija-Sanchez, who ran a $3 million-a-year forgery operation before he was arrested in April, was expecting Congress to pass a legalization program, which he called "amnesty," and said he could forge documents to fool the U.S. government into thinking illegal aliens were in the country in time to qualify for amnesty, a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agent said in the affidavit.

Quite obviously, Mr. Leija-Sanchez was not alone in identifying this new market, but not particularly pleased with his competition:

He also was accused of paying $3,000 and conspiring with others to kill two fledgling competitors for stealing computers used to make the phony documents.

Not to worry, though. While the franchise Mr. Leija-Sanchez ran might have experienced a difficulty or two recently, the <polite cough> parent company located IN Mexico has not been affected.

"It's clear that the most capable fraud document cartel in Mexico has been gearing up for comprehensive immigration reform at the same time we have been here on Capitol Hill — only they're ahead of the game," said Michael Maxwell, senior policy analyst for homeland security for Rep. John Culberson, Texas Republican. "They're already making money and will continue to do so." -- Washington Times

h/t Corruption Chronicles

You don't say . . .

2007-06-29T18:28:00.000-04:00

The Houston Chronicle reports that President Felipe Calderon of Mexico isn't happy with the Senate vote yesterday that stopped -- for now, anyway -- the No-Illegal-Alien-Left-Behind bill.

"It's a mistake," Calderon said. "First, because it's a problem that's not being confronted. And with this evasive action the U.S. Senate is making it worse.

"Secondly, by closing the door on legal immigration, the only thing the Senate does is open the door to illegal immigration."

Isn't this the same joker who said previously that Mexico has absolutely no responsiblity for stopping the illegal drugs being smuggled across the border from Mexico into the United States?

The responsiblity, I'm sure you'll agree with President Calderon, for stopping the drugs being smuggled into the United States by the Mexican drug cartels rests solely on the United States, in the form of stopping the DEMAND for their drugs within our borders.

More than a tenth of Mexico's 103 million people now live in the United States, many of them illegally.

And . . .

Calderon . . . continues to oppose a wall along the U.S.-Mexico border which was approved by Congress last year.

Of course he does. Although the American people -- you know, the ordinary folk who inhabit this country legally -- disagree. Besides, where the heck do you, President Calderon, get off telling US what we should or should not do? Who the HELL do you think you are, Ted Kennedy?

"The American economy could not prosper or advance without the labor of both Mexican and Central American migrants," Calderon said.

If the "labor of both Mexican and Central American migrants" is so valuable to our economy, why are you, President Calderon -- considering the sad state of Mexico's economy -- so intent on us taking them?

(Blogger's acting up again today. Can't edit a damned thing, so here it flies.)

Braggin'

2007-06-26T18:18:00.000-04:00

(It's a lousy shot, I know.)

As I was getting ready to head home, I asked Da Kid the next time he takes a class that's going to include a graduation ceremony to maybe, just maybe, choose one close by. Not that I really had that much to complain about since I only had to make the 250-mile round trip once.

On top of his regular shift, for the last four months Da Kid's been making the same trip two or three times a week. And that doesn't include the required clinicals.

Instead of taking Emergency Medical Technician B(eginning) and then whut.ever the subsequent class is called OR the eight-month program that smooshed the two together, Da Kid chose the most intensive one in Savannah, that combined both classes but in a four-month time frame.

Although he graduated yesterday, Da Kid's not quite through yet. Saturday is the practical examination, and he's waiting to find out on what date the written portion of his National Certification Boards will be held.

Then, except for as-yet-undetermined short classes here and there, after over two years Da Kid's taking a much-needed break before quite possibly (probably?) going on to paramedic training.

The Deadly Duo have been see-sawing back and forth, forth and back, like this for five years. Both working, but one working extra hours so that the other one could go to school. And now it's Herself's turn to go back.

Da Kid was a vet tech in an animal hospital. Now he's a firefighter, with certifications in several specialities.

She was a receptionist in the animal hospital. Now she's a Registered Nurse, and wants to be a Nurse Practitioner.

How far they've already come.

How far they'll go is anyone's guess but neither Mama, Herself's mother, nor I are satisfied any longer with their promise that they will pay for our room and care at Shady Pines Nursing Home.

With as much as they'll be earning, we both want our own wings.

Quotable Quotes

2007-06-19T17:58:00.000-04:00

"I wouldn't presume to speak for the millions of Americans who oppose this bill, but it's because I'm an immigrant myself that I object to the most patent absurdity peddled by the pro-amnesty crowd. The bill is fundamentally a fraud. Its ''comprehensive solution'' to illegal immigration is simply to flip all the illegals overnight into the legal category. Voila! Problem solved! There can be no more illegal immigrants because the Senate has simply abolished the category. Ingenious! For their next bipartisan trick, Congress will reduce the murder rate by recategorizing murderers as jaywalkers." -- Mark Steyn

Fathers Day

2007-06-17T17:30:00.000-04:00

Sis, Herself's older sister, promised me today that in the future either she or Mama will let me know when something's going on rather than ask Herself and / or Da Kid to tell me, because once again they didn't remember to until the last minute.

Da Kid called at 7:45 this morning to tell me Herself's family was having a "thing" today for Fathers Day. Oh, and when they asked him to let me know he'd said I'd bring a dish. Oh! And it's a breakfast at 9 o'clock.

Then I heard Herself bellow in the background, "DON'T YOU DO THAT TO YOUR MOTHER!" and Da Kid yelp in pain.

Yes, they'd forgotten to tell me about it but it was Sunday dinner, be there around noon. And no, I didn't have to bring anything with me.

But I hate going over empty handed, not that I knew what they were having. With them there are only two things known: it will be delicious and there will be plenty of it.

I decided I'd take a dessert.

Just making that decision was an incredibly amazing thing for me to accomplish at that point because I am most definitely NOT a morning person. I might have been up and already moving when Da Kid called, but that didn't mean I was awake. Still in my bathrobe, on my first cup of coffee and walking into walls, I began thumbing through index cards trying to figure out what to fix, based primarily on whether I thought I'd actually be able to . . .

I reached for the coffee pot to refill my cup, but the pot wasn't there. The coffee maker was in its same place, but the pot was gone. I finally found it in the refrigerator which, I guess, is where I put it.

Like I said, I don't function well in the morning.

Peach Cobbler? I'd never tried to fix one but I had all the ingredients. I thought I did but knowing the way I am in the morning, I decided to put all of them all out on the counter to just make sure. If I didn't I'd figure out something else because I really didn't have time to go to the grocery store, with all the usual morning obligations yet to be met.

Cans of peaches, CHECK! Bisquick, CHECK! Ground Cinnamon, CHECK! And so on.

I showered, took care of Dingbat and Starbuck's needs, and then went to work.

You know, I'm sure, what it feels like when you're fixing something you've never fixed before, especially for people who are damned cooks. Damned good.

Herself's mother and sister fix cobbler all the time and while I knew mine would never measure up to theirs, it's something I've wanted to try. If mine comes out even edible, I'd be thrilled. With me, too, there was the additional ~~terror~~ nervousness in knowing that since we seldom ate sweets, I have little experience fixing desserts of any kind.

In other words, I didn't know what the hell I'm doing.

But then sometimes, comes that wonderful feeling when everything seems to be working right. It's going your way. This may actually be good. It looks good and it's surprisingly easy.

Okay, I did have a problem shaking the cinnamon out of the container into the filling, but with a couple whaps of my palm on the jar's bottom . . . the recipe said "some" and I could only guess that that was enough. (I added another "whap" just to be on the safe side.)

There was just right amount of dough for the top. The oven is preheated to 350 degrees and the only thing I have to do before covering the dish and popping it in for 45 minutes, is sprinkle it with sugar and more cinnamon.

And the cinnamon got stuck again.

When whapping it with my palm repeatedly only shook at little out each time, instead of wasting more time (which I was running out of) I pried the plastic lid off the container to reach inside with two fingers and "sprinkle" the crust that way.

The cinnamon didn't look right. The color was off and so was the texture. I sniffed.

It didn't smell anything like cinnamon. It smelled like . . .

That's when something caught my eye. It's known as the label.

I stood there and must have read the damned thing five times, willing it to say cinnamon. The last time I even spelled the word aloud, letter by letter.

I began chanting a certain four-letter word to encourage it to change. But the label wouldn't.

Instead of Ground Cinnamon, it still read Ground Cumin.

I hate these things!

2007-06-16T18:49:00.000-04:00

Which of Henry VIII's wives are you?

this quiz was made by Lori Fury

Spotted at Jenna's.

Ponderings

2007-06-15T17:53:00.000-04:00

If those of us who oppose the Senate's plan to provide amnesty for illegal aliens and want a fence between the United States and Mexico are racists because there are supposedly so many illegals coming from other countries, why does Dubya keep trotting out Hispanic-surnamed folk at each of his show and tells in its support?

If immigrants are required to prove their grasp of English before they become citizens and only citizens can vote, then why is not providing them with ballots in another language a violation of their civil rights?

If those of us who oppose the Senate's plan to provide amnesty for illegal aliens and want a fence between the United States and Mexico are racists because there are supposedly so many illegals coming from other countries, then why did Dubya make a point of expressing his support for it today at a National Hispanic Caucus Prayer Breakfast?

If Ted Kennedy says the fines and penalties illegals will be required to pay under the Senate's bill will fund the bureauracy processing them will require as well as all the tax-payer funded services they consume, but Dubya says the same fines and penalties will be used to secure our borders, which one is lying?

If the Reid and Company does the exact same thing this year as it did last year, does that indicate that they think we're stupid?

If some pollsters say Obama will be the Dem's nominee in '08 cause he'll carry the black vote 'cause he's black, but others say Hilliary will win 'cause women will vote for her 'cause she's a woman, are they profiling?

If . . .

2007-06-14T17:20:00.000-04:00

$3.89 a gallon

2007-06-13T19:23:00.000-04:00

Gasoline? No. That's what I paid for a gallon of milk today. Expect it to get worse. Much worse.

Fox News is airing a piece right now about how much more groceries are costing and are GOING to cost in the future. The reason, they are explaining, is that the price of corn is going up because it is being diverted to the production of fuels.

Far be it for me to argue with their "experts," but all they're doing is selling advertising time.

~~~~~

Although I've mentioned him numerous times, let me finally introduce you to Dingbat (The Aged Quarter Horse). I've had him since he was a four-year-old and he's now closing in on 25. In equine terms that's very roughly . . . 75.

For his age Dingbat is in good health, but like we'd expect for ourselves IF we get to that age -- may we look as good if we do -- things don't work as well as they used to. Not that horses have a digestive tract that makes sense to start with.

Cattle can eat just about any ol' hay, but horse hay has to be of a particular kind and quality or it (among so many other things) can cause colic. I'm not going to waste your time going into it because this is only background.

I'm down to my last three bales of hay. Horse hay. By the time that's gone, I'll have Dingbat fully swapped over to soaked beet pulp (Doesn't it look just so yummy!) as a substitute.

Why? Because there is no hay.

I don't mean just in my hay shed or even horse hay. Because of the drought, there isn't any hay to be had.

Anywhere.

There's bales here and there of timothy or alfalfa at $20 per square bale, but Dingbat's aged digestive tract couldn't handle it. It would kill him.

Cattle farmers, whether beef or dairy, couldn't afford to pay that even if they could somehow find the quantities each cow would require daily. Cattle do very well with (what I think of as) crap hay. Except, there is no hay of any kind. So, months ago cattle farmers started culling their herds.

There are usually three cuttings of hay each season with the first coming in in April or May. The second, June . . . July. The third and final cut for the season (to get everyone through the winter 'til the next year's first cut) occurs some time in the Fall.

But first cut never occured this year. It didn't exist. Second cut, even with the recent rain, is a month to six weeks away and who knows how much of that there will be. Third cut . . .who knows.

Don't expect a reprieve any time soon. With nothing to fall back on 'cause what was normally stored from the year before already long gone, the lack of hay this year is already affecting next year's supply.

Since there will be nothing socked away from last year, it will be used as soon as it grows.

If next Spring, there's even enough rain for hay to grow.

The first impact (demand / supply) is dairy. We're seeing that now. Next will be the price of beef in the grocery store stores, so if the price of beef looks damned good right now, the market's flooded.

Buy, and sock it away in your freezer.

I know we need the rain, but . . .

2007-06-12T18:01:00.000-04:00

. . . if it's not too much trouble could we pa-LEEZE skip the weird stuff?

Thank you!

Not that I was sure we would when my weather alert radio began warbeling at 8:30 this morning. Instead of the old one going off every time somebody (anybody!) in an 8-county area even farted, the new one has allowed me to fine tune the area (my county and the one I'm not that far from) and the type of alert.

After listening to the details of the notification, I fed both Dingbat (The Aged Quarter Horse) and Starbuck a bit earlier than usual. Neither one, of course, minded.

At nine, when I snapped this pic, with deep thunder beginning to roll I was STILL outside with Starbuck, telling him if he didn't want to get wet, it was time for him to stop playing games and get serious about cranking his tail. Not that he, of course, paid any attention to what I was telling him.

What he did pay attention to was a gust of wind.

He stuck his nose up in the air and smelling the coming rain said, "THIT!" And wasted no more time in doing exactly that.

Minutes later -- as it was getting really dark -- we were already back in the house when the wind and downpour began.

By two the sun was out again.

The weatherjerks are prognosticating more severe thunderstorms tomorrow.

We need the rain, I know. But if we could avoid the weird stuff, again -- like the hail and twisters that hit elsewhere -- I'd really appreciate it.

Are you ready?

2007-06-11T18:32:00.000-04:00

Unlike last year I didn't have to buy anything big. Still, the start of Florida's sales tax holiday on hurricane supplies on June 1 was a perfect time for me to pick up a few extra tarps, and since I don't have a clue how old the ones I have are, a big package of fresh D batteries. Oh, and a new weather alert radio -- one with S.A.M.E. technology -- because the one I have doesn't and it drives me nuts, and has done so for years.

Big spender that I am, I bought one for Herself and Da Kid, too. I figure they're worth the $25.

The sales tax holiday ends in a few days. I thought I was set, except this morning I suddenly remembered something I'd wanted to check out that I'd spotted in a Home Depot circular when the holiday started. I didn't think I really needed it because there's already something similar that Hubby bought several years ago, that's still in a box sitting on a shelf in the garage. The only difference, I remembered thinking when I'd looked at the circular, was that this new one had the ability to recharge cell phones, too.

The bottom line is I went over to Home Depot just to look at it, and ended up buying the damned thing. At $45, it made absolutely no sense to me not to.

Smaller than a two-slice toaster (it's similar to this) it's an all-in-one AM/FM radio, black and white television, NOAA weather alert radio (but with no S.A.M.E., I won't be using that function), LED flashlight, AND cell phone charger. It is powered by regular house current, or nine C batteries, or its own built-in NIMH (rechargeable) battery. The latter is charged (and recharged) by using regular house current, or by plugging it into the cigarette lighter in your car (adaptor included) or the hand-crank.

There's only one problem, and I didn't realize there even was one until I got home.

This is the only thing in the entire house that requires C batteries. And I don't have any.

Shit.

Go baby, GO!

2007-06-08T20:29:00.001-04:00

Atlantis launched a little bit ago and as always, I was out in the front yard hoping to see something. All I can still say about it even now is, WOW!"

(Of all times for my camera not to be working . . . and I forgot to take my cell phone with me. Sorry)

If it's a daytime liftoff and the weather conditions are right I can usually see the contrail and if the trajectory is good, follow it for a few minutes as it appears from between but just over the trees and then heads east. Maybe, every once in a while, a quick glimpse of a bit of silver dot from which the contrail seems to be forming.

At night and if the weather conditions are right (which has happened exactly twice) I can see . . . well, it looks something like a teeny-tiny flame from a candle, but it's upside down . . . moving across the sky.

I have never, ever, seen one like this one before. Or for a long.

I spotted the contrail, but it wasn't a long one. Maybe, I thought, if I stayed out there for a while longer it would pick up again. It didn't.

As I was about to go back in the dot of a chase plane -- what I had assumed was a chase plane -- changed color becoming a tiny, shimmering, gold sliver against the blue sky.

The sun's going down. The sun's light is reflecting off the plane . . . holy shit. That's not a plane! That's the Shuttle!!! And it kept getting bigger until . . .

Think of an embroidery needle, the smallest one and fanciest, too, with the eye-end coated of gold. Now, think of just the golden part, moving across the sky.

A northeast trajectory, I guess, because it seemed like I watched it for hours. In reality, it was only minutes but as it finally disappeared and I turned to go back inside . . . I noticed another "chase plane."

Then, boy did I feel stupid. I can't begin to describe how stupid I felt. Maybe what I'd been watching for so long really WASN'T the Shuttle after all. This one looked a lot like the other one had, but a tiny bit bigger, and THIS one HAD a contrail . . .

Then it hit.

THIS golden sliver wasn't the Shuttle. This one was the booster the Shuttle had separated from earlier, arching its way to its own splashdown in the Atlantic.

So, I stayed outside watching until I lost sight of that, too.

~~~~~

Good journey, Atlantis. And may God speed you safely home.

Quotable Quotes

2007-06-08T17:13:00.000-04:00

"By a nearly 5-to-1 margin, voters believe that Members of Congress are more interested in their own careers and agenda rather than the public good." -- Scott Rasmussen

~~~~~
Yep, that Rasmussen. Not that you'd really need to read his editorial (although you really should) to realize how accurate the quote I pulled is. All you'd need to do, if you could stomach it, is watch (as I did via C-SPAN) our wonderful Senate in action. The utter disconnect between its members and the public over the immigration reform boondoggle Reid and Company tried to ram through is just one example.

Although Harry Reid whined repeatedly after the second cloture vote followed the first in failure and he pulled the bill, that "the other side" should have tried to amend the bill rather than from the start work solely to sink it. That makes great sound bites but it's just not the truth. Not that the truth is of any importance in the Senate.

Tuesday through Thursday, a constant complaint was . . .

I don't understand the inner workings on the Senate but as best I can tell ALL amendments to bills have to be filed . . . somewhere or with somebody. Somebody (in the case of the immigration bill it was Reid and Company) goes through them and picks out which ones they want to be "brought to the floor" for debate and vote.

. . . a constant complaint was that senators had either been told not to file amendments, to wait and file them later (at some never-specified and still unknown time), and that only a few of those that had been filed were being brought to the floor.

One amendment that somehow escaped limbo and was debated (and subsequently voted down) had been filed by Jim DeMint (R-South Carolina). DeMint's amendment would have required all those receiving a Z Visa under the guest worker program to have and maintain at least a high-deductible health insurance policy. The average cost for a high-deductible policy, he said, was $116 monthly and in fact, he'd just purchased one for his daughter for $64 a month.

The rationale behind the amendment, DeMint explained, was quite simple. With hospital emergency rooms being required to treat everyone who comes in whether they can pay for their care or not and with so many people who lack insurance for whatever reason using emergency rooms as their primary physician, it makes sense not to add to the deficits they are already experiencing, especially when it comes to the high-cost care and procedures that states and local communities are now having to pay for.

Next up was good ol' Ted Kennedy who blusters, stumbles and babbles in opposition to the amendment. Guest workers won't be paid enough to afford insurance health, he sez, and besides, they won't need individual policies once they've enacted Universal Health Care.

DeMint restates his case.

Teddy, once again approaching hysteria, counters that some would be denied coverage because of preexisting conditions.

DeMint replies that if someone is so unhealthy as to be uninsurable, they shouldn't be in a guest worker program to start with.

And as I mentioned above, this amendment was voted down.

~~~~Later, speaking in support of a different amendment, good ol' Teddy sez the guest worker program will elevate salaries paid to Americans doing the same job, because the bill requires that its participants be paid the prevailing wage.

(Silly me. I thought the prevailing wage was the hourly equivalent to what union members were paid as determined by the Department of Labor, and guest workers were needed to do the jobs Americans wouldn't do.)
~~~~~
Meanwhile, Senator Salazar (R-Colorado) insisted that we try to imagine what OUR lives would be like without the "undocumented immigrants" we take for granted. Without them who, he wants to know, would maintain our lawns, care for our children, or change the bedding at the resorts we go to.

~~~~~
The 17th amendment needs to be repealed.

It's dead, Jim

2007-06-07T15:16:00.000-04:00

I have a confession to make: I've been watching C-SPAN these last few days, and now I think it safe to say that the Senate's COMPREHENSIVE Immigration Bill -- while still wiggling -- is gasping its last few breaths.

Harry Reid said from the start that the bill was perfect as written and any attempts to amend it would kill it. Lo and behold, Tuesday it became obvious to me that any amendments submitted that would tighten up or close the dozens of loopholes in this boondoggle would be ignored. One that was voted on Tuesday (and as I recall approved) was submitted by Russ Feingold, to authorize the creation of a commission to study how badly the U.S. had treated Japanese-Americans and German-Americans during World War II, and the reasons why the U.S. didn't accept more Jewish refugees fleeing the Nazis.

Reid and the bill's "managers" have been selecting what amendments would be voted on and which ones would be buried. As you might expect this hasn't gone over too well, and Senators who've had their amendments stalled in this manner have been quite vocal about it. As the dam began to break and certain amendments debated, it became painfully clear just how bad this bill -- that Reid and Company had tried to force through -- was.

Jeff Sessions (R-Alabama) said several times when he was pointing out a few of the loopholes that he'd voted against last year's immigration bill because it was so bad. "This one is even worse."

C-SPAN is still showing Senators milling around the Senate floor. There is no audio, however, except for music that sounds quite appropriate for a funeral home.

Pleath make it thtop!

2007-06-02T12:40:00.000-04:00

It rained all night and it'th thtill raining.

I don't wanna get wet. I hate getting wet. Pleath don't make me get wet!

I gotta pee tho bad, but I don't wanna get wet.

Pleath make it thtop raining.

Tropical Storm Barry

2007-06-01T17:27:00.000-04:00

Hi, Barry! Happy June First!

You're not much, just a tropical storm. If you weren't aware of it before, let me be the first to tell you that according to a poll conducted by Mason Dixon, when one of your big brothers or sisters smacks into the U.S. this year everyone in the affected area is gonna die.

Or something.

That's what this article says the poll results indicate, and what numerous news sources have been echoing all day.

I'm gonna be one of the dead, I guess, 'cause if we're flooded I don't have any axes handy to chop through my roof.

I mean, I do have one but it's in the garage. Not that I'd be able to chop through the roof with it because it's so damned big and heavy. How I'd manage to swing it around in the attic much less haul it up there remains a mystery. A hatchet , I think, would be far more sensible. If I did somehow manage to climb on top of the refrigerator and clammer up . . .

Not that I'm in a flood-prone zone or live on the coast, but if the media reports the poll results as if they apply to everyone, who am I to disagree.

If the flood waters don't get me, Barry, I'm gonna burn to death.

Like 82 percent of those the survey says have made preparations, I have a "fire hazard" -- candles and and kerosene lamps -- in my "survival kit." But I'll probably bleed to death before the flames get me, if I drop any of the containers the candles are in and the glass breaks. All I can say is thank gawd the poll didn't ask about big-assed flashlights. If it had, it would be scaring people with the possibility of broken bones if they dropped one on their foot.

I haven't fortified my home, either, Barry. I'm not even sure what "fortified" means. If fortified means "boarding up" windows and such . . . I really don't want to hurt your feelings by making you feel inadequate, but you're only a tropical storm. We don't "fortify" here until there's actually a reason to do so.

Then again, we don't live on the coast.

Come to think of it, I don't think anybody I know even knows anybody rich or dumb enough to live on the coast, which just might be the population Mason Dixon surveyed. Not that you can tell from the media reports that nobody is ready for anything, so everybody's gonna die.

It's June 1. The official beginning of this year's Atlantic Hurricane Season. Let the media's annual hysteria begin, right?.

Anyway, thanks for the bit of rain a little while ago. It's been so long since we've had any, when I went out to feed Dingbat, the old Quarter Horse, he almost ran me over because the strange sound spooked him.

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