The Part I Don't Like

Carter is dead, so now they'll try to immortalize a President that caused more harm than good. To me, the effort is damn near impossible, but there has to be at least one person that disagrees with me, other than one of his close relatives. May their task be light, and their BS thick. They'll need it. It's hard to shine up a turd. 

I Don't Know What It Was, but It Kicked My Butt

I know it was a virus. What kind? Maybe a flu variant, or some other virus, but whatever it was, it made me sicker than I've been in decades. My fever lasted for a few days, and it finally broke with a torrent of sweat, which was an uncomfortable way to wake. Maybe it's my age, or maybe in the past I just soldiered on because work demanded, but this one is requiring doing nothing, resting when not resting, and letting my body heal. My stomach feels as though I tried to do 200 push-ups, which is the result of trying to cough up a lung. The cough is now productive, and the spells are few and far between. 

No, I didn't go to the doctor. I was one more night of unbroken fever from doing so, but saved from dealing with urgent care doctors, or nurse practitioners. They must have a playbook they follow that demands they keep Pfizer, and the other big boys in the money, regardless of how many people they kill. I'm getting to the point even talking to them is a nerve grating experience, and think they probably feel the same after dealing with me. 

So recovery is underway, I plan on doing nothing during the rest of the holidays, will probably sip some bourbon later during the recovery, and avoid any person that had contact with children, adults with children, or has seen them while driving past a school. They carry germs, and have no problem with sharing.

Christmas and the Interstate

This is my first Christmas with all of my nuclear family gone. I have my wife, and my in-laws, but it will never be the same. So, I'll post again some fiction about Christmas that probably exists for someone, and hopefully, they have their problems in life solved and find peace.

***

 W.R. pulled his coat tighter, after closing and locking the door of his truck. Stopping for a moment, he took a deep breath, hoped for a hint of fresh air, but was rewarded with the odor of diesel and the exhaust of the tractor-trailer rigs at the pumps. Moving on, he hunched his shoulders in the cold, damp north wind. The faint smell of the grill in the attached restaurant made his stomach growl, although he wished he was smelling something more traditional on a Christmas Eve.

Glancing around the parking lot, he felt the familiar feeling all truck stops brought. They were all the same, but different. All had different faces behind the counter; some he knew, some he didn't; all were the refuge of those that led a huge portion of their life behind the windshield of a truck.

Across the parking lot, in a corner isolated from traffic, he noticed the small car, with the woman standing and looking under the hood. Steam rose in the cold wind and was whisked away; streamers of lost hope and anxiety.

W.R. paused, silently argued with his inner voice, but succumbed to the urge to help someone in trouble. Changing direction, he quickly walked to the car, stopped for a moment, then offered his help.

"Do you need some help?"

The woman looked his way. For a moment a faint smile crossed her face, but was soon replaced with the hardened expression of someone that felt slight fear and apprehension. She stared at his face, paused, but replied with resignation in her voice: "The engine light came on; the engine died; so I coasted to this spot."

W.R. examined the woman's face for a moment. The glance revealed a young woman with dirty blonde hair, a pretty face, and a determination found only by those unwilling to give up, when faced with problems. He guessed she was around thirty, down on her luck, and stranded in a truck stop, while travelling somewhere important. What little makeup she wore was overshadowed by her unkempt appearance: an old flannel shirt, faded blue jeans, and sneakers that had seen better days.

"Do you mind if I take a look?"

She hesitated before answering: "Go ahead; maybe we can figure it out."

He liked her answer. Unwilling to admit defeat, she wasn't about to defer to the advice of a stranger.

It didn't take long for W.J. to make an initial assessment. The coolant reservoir was empty, and the steam was from a cracked heater hose.

"Have you checked the oil"

"I was about to."

Pulling the dipstick revealed a gray, oily sludge. W.R. hesitated, but soon announced: "You've lost coolant, and you have a blown head gasket."

"Is that expensive to repair?"

W.R. looked at her face and found a worried look. He paused to reexamine the car before he replied: "Probably more than the car's worth."

"My phone is out of minutes. Do you have one I can borrow?"

W.R. felt a pang of apprehension. His kindness had led many places he never wanted to go, but he was raised to be that way. He immediately replied: "Sure", and handed her his cell phone.

She dialed a number, waited a few moments, then answered: "Hi, Mom. I'm broken down on the interstate, so I won't be there in time."

W.R. walked a few steps away to give her privacy. Although he couldn't hear all the conversation, he heard enough to understand the woman didn't have the money, her mother would need to wire her some money, and it wouldn't happen until a family member returned to take her to wire the money.

"I'll be alright. I'll stay in the car, and I'll call to give you the place to wire the money."

Lost in his thoughts, W.R. was a little startled when the young woman said: "Thanks. I appreciate it."

A thousand thought crossed W.R's. mind. Pushing sixty, a little overweight, and with a salt and pepper beard, he felt he looked the epitome of a trashy trucker. He felt any offers to help would either repulse, or cause fear to the woman young enough to be his daughter. He looked at the woman, and her face revealed a sadness that pulled at his soul.

Ignoring his instinct to flee, he asked: "How far are you going?"

He couldn't read her reaction, but she replied: "I'm going East, to Mobile. I was hoping to spend Christmas with my mother."

W.R's. heart broke. It was Christmas eve, Mobile was a few hundred mile away, and it would be after Christmas before she received her money.

"I'm heading East. You can ride along, and come for your car after Christmas."

The woman's face changed from apprehension, hope, fear and a guarded look in a few moments. Pausing, she soon spoke: "I'll wait until you come back."

Feeling awkward, and not really knowing what to say, W.J. responded: "I'm going to get something to eat, so it may be awhile. Why don't you join me?"

"I'm not really that hungry."

"I'm buying. I won a few hundred on scratch-offs at the last stop, so I need to pass my good luck on"

She examined his face for a moment, smiled, and replied: "I'd hate to ruin your good luck."

As they walked to the restaurant, she spoke: "I'm Cathy."

Stopping, he turned, held out his hand and introduced himself: "I'm W.R., and I'm pleased to meet you."

She shook his hand, and replied: "W. R. must stand for something."

"Wendell Roberts; everybody just calls me W.R.; I like that better."

Continuing to the door, she spoke again: "It's not a bad name."

W.R. laughed, and replied: "No, but it led to a few fights in grade school."

She laughed, started to say something, but decided not.

W.R. held the door, as they entered the restaurant. Mostly men sat at the tables and booths. A few looked at them as they entered, but most just continued eating, or staring into space.

Finding an empty table, they were soon seated. A tired waitress soon arrived to take their order.

W.R. responded: "I'd like some coffee, and a little time to look at the menu.:

Turning to Cathy, she replied: "I'll have coffee, too."

After the waitress left, W.R. cautioned: "There's a lot on the menu, but other than breakfast, I usually stick to the hamburger, or club sandwich. Unless they hired new cooks over the last few weeks, everything else isn't very good."

The waitress soon returned with their coffee. Speaking as she set the cups on the table, she asked if it would be one ticket, or two.

"Put it on one ticket", W.R. responded. "I'll have a cheeseburger all the way, with fries."

Cathy was quick with her order: "I'll have the same, but cut the onions."

Writing quickly, the waitress left to give their order to the cook.

Neither spoke, until they fixed their coffee and took the first sip.

Cathy was first to speak: "The coffee is good."

W.R. smiled and replied: "It's some of the best around. It's fresh ground and makes up for the food."

Cathy examined W.R.'s face as he looked out the window. Mostly unwrinkled, the only clear lines were his smile lines. His beard was neatly trimmed, a little curly and his pale complexion was free from damage by the sun.

"Have you driven trucks most of your life?"

W.R. turned to look at her face, when he answered: "Since I left the Army in my mid-twenties." I started working for others and eventually bought my own rig. I've hauled just about everything, but it's mostly been flatbed and long hauls."

"Do you have a home?"

"Not right now. My wife of 15 years got it in the divorce settlement, and I kept what little I had for my retirement."

"Do you have any children?"

"I have a step-daughter, although she's like my own. I was hoping to see her, but she's spending Christmas with her mom; and her grandfather. I'll see her when I get back to North Texas"

"Is that where you're from?"

"Amarillo. I was raised there, left for the Army, returned long enough to marry, and start trucking."

"What about your parents?"

My dad died in a farming accident, when I was in the Army. I wanted to request an early out, but Mom wanted to sell the farm, since there wasn't much money to made and she didn't want to keep fighting so hard for so little. She's living with my sister and her husband. We never really were that tight of a family, so I only see them a few times during the year"

Saddened, Cathy spoke without thinking: "That's sad." She wished she hadn't said anything, when she saw the momentary look of sadness, and defeat, in J.R.'s expression.

"I guess so. Those types of things just happen."

Cathy decided to be quiet, but W.R. continued the conversation: "What about you?"

Cathy stared out the window and replied: "I never married. I thought I would, but my ex was full of more crap than a Christmas turkey."

W.R. silently waited for her to continue.

"He had a good job offer in Houston, persuaded me to leave Mobile, so I went to find my dreams. One year later, he's fired for drinking on the job; six months later I had enough, and a little over two years after leaving, I'm here, fresh quit from a crappy retail job, and broken down on the interstate."

Before W.R. could ask any more questions, the waitress returned with their order. Placing the plates in front of each, she placed the ticket in front of W.R. and left.

Cathy spoke: "She could have asked if we wanted some more coffee."

W.R. laughed, and replied: "I'll flag her down in a minute. It looks like only half the wait staff is here, and I wouldn't be surprised she doesn't have a relief."

Cathy looked around, and realized W.R. was probably right. Feeling a little sheepish, she commented: "I should have known. I waited tables for a few months. It's tough to be helpful, when it's all you can do to keep up."

As they ate, Cathy remarked: "The burger is good."

W.R. replied: "They make their own patties, and cook them on an open grill."

As they finished, W.R. flagged down the waitress, and pointed at his empty coffee cup. She soon returned, filled both cups and asked if they needed anything more. Both answered "No; thank you", and she was soon gone.

Sipping her coffee, Cathy said: "I'm guessing my car will be towed before tomorrow night."

"Maybe not."

"It doesn't matter. It isn't worth the towing fee."

Sitting silently, W.R. thought of a friend, made an excuse to go to the restroom, and was soon away from the table to make a phone call. Returning to the table, he asked Cathy: "I have a friend that will buy your car for scrap; if you're interested."

Cathy sat for a moment before replying: "How much?"

"He wouldn't commit, but said he just finished repairing a tire down the road, and would meet us in the parking lot."

"Well, let's go find out."

Rising from the table, W.R. picked up the ticket, and examined the cost. When they reached the checkout, their waitress was there checking out another customer. When finished, she quickly rang up their bill, and announced the cost of a little over sixteen dollars. W.R. pulled a twenty from his pocket, peeled another with it, handed it to the waitress, and said: "Keep the change."

Shocked, the waitress started to say something, but didn't when she noticed his wink. A huge smile appeared, but soon faded, when a customer called from one of her tables. With a quick "Thank you very much", she was soon gone.

"That was more than kind"

"She deserves it. Waiting tables is a thankless job, without tips."

A gust of cold wind caused both to bend their heads to the wind as they left the restaurant. Looking towards her car, they could see a service truck parked next to it, with a man looking it over.

As they walked up, the man held out his hand and spoke: "Howdy W.R.; Merry Christmas."

"How are you doing, Hank?"

"I'm tired, but the business is too good to stop. Most of my competition is off tonight, and I just had another call for a flat repair."

Cathy introduced herself and asked: "So, what do you think?"

"I'll give you a hundred dollars for it."

W.R. quickly responded: "The tires are almost new; you'll get twice that much for selling them used."

"Yeah, but I'll have to put them on, so there's labor involved."

Pausing, Hank offered another price: "I'll give you another fifty, but I won't go any higher."

Cathy looked at W.R. with a questioning look on her face. He nodded "yes", but she was hesitant.

W.R. waited, but Hank quickly responded: "You're killing me. As it is, I won't make much money."

W.R. replied: "Maybe not, but she's probably losing money."

"Okay, I'll give you one hundred seventy five, but that's my final offer."

Cathy quickly responded: "I'll take it; I even have the title."

"I don't need it, but I'll take it anyway. You sign it, and I don't have to worry about you reporting it stolen."

Pulling the title from her purse, she signed the back, and handed it to Hank.

"If you have anything in it, you need to get it now. I'll probably tow it before morning,"

Opening the back door, Cathy pulled out a suitcase and two Walmart bags, with wrapped presents. Placing them on the ground, she quickly took the money Hank pulled from his wallet.

Shaking her hand, he said: "It's pleasure doing business with you, but I need to get me a cup of coffee to go and get out of here. There's money to be made."

Quickly shaking W.R.'s hand, he was soon off towards the door of the restaurant.

Cathy stood quietly as he disappeared. W.R. could see her eyes were brimming, so he quickly said: "We need to go put your things in my truck. After that, you can go use the restroom, I'll get us some coffee to go, and we'll be off.

Hank was sitting in the truck, with the engine running, when she returned. The heater warmed the cab, which made him a little drowsy. Taking a sip of coffee, he watched, as she climbed into the passenger seat. Fastening her seat belt, W.R. put the truck in gear, and started from the parking lot.

Cathy was first to speak as Hank accelerated up the entrance ramp on the interstate: "I want to thank you for your help. I figured the car was total loss and I'd get nothing."

W.R. didn't know what to say. It was obvious she had almost nothing to her name, and little more to show for the last two years of her life.

Cathy's laugh surprised W.R. as she commented: "I only paid five hundred for it; and used it for months. Truthfully, I was surprised it lasted as long as it did."

W.R. continued to drive silently, but Cathy was in the mood to talk. He decided she was probably a little nervous and was glad for the company.

"I'll be home in time for Christmas with my mom. She'd have come with Uncle Bill to get me, but he doesn't drive on the highway any more; he broke both his legs last year, while driving to Florida, and is too scared to drive any farther than the grocery store."

"Your mother doesn't drive?"

"She doesn't have a car, and Uncle Bill won't let her drive his pickup. I'm sure he'd have brought her to wire me some money this evening, but he's visiting his daughter. Even then, I doubt they'd find any place open"

W.R. digested the information for a moment. Cathy soon commented: "You need to meet my mother. I think she'd like you."

"What about your father?"

Cathy's response was quick, and full of vehemence: "That sorry bastard is probably in jail, or shacked up with some whore."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Mom left him years ago, and if she hadn't, I'd probably shot him for beating her."

W.R. didn't know what to say, but Cathy did: "She's about your age, and she's still very attractive."

The comment made W.R. nervous, but raised he curiosity. If she was as pretty as her daughter, she might be someone to meet. He'd been lonely, since his divorce, and his life didn't allow much time for dating.

Handing Cathy his cell phone, W.R. advised: "You should call her, and let her know you're on the way."

Cathy felt guilty for a moment. In all that happened, she hadn't called her mother, and all she knew was she was stranded in a truck stop.

"Hi Mom. I found a ride, and I'll be there in a few hours...No, a kind trucker offered me a ride...I know, but I can take care of myself....don't worry, I'll call when I get close....I can walk to the house, it's not that far from the interstate.........okay, but tell your neighbor I'll give them some gas money......I love you, too....Bye.

"She's worried. I can understand that, she hasn't had much luck with men."

Both were silent for the next few hours, except for comments about the traffic, or things of no importance. Cathy eventually nodded off, so W.R. turned on the radio and listened to music as he drove.

When they were getting close to Mobile, W.R. spoke loudly, so Cathy would wake up: "We're almost there. You probably should call your mother."

Cathy woke, took his phone, and stared through the windshield for a few moments, before dialing.

"Hi Mom. We're almost there...I dunno....that's on 65, isn't it?"

Recognizing the interstate number, he told Cathy: "I'm heading north on 65. We can meet her somewhere there."

Cathy continued: "That's that Super Walmart past Airport?....I'll ask."

Turning toward W.R., he quickly answered: "I know where that is."

"Okay...I'll see you, when we get there...Uncle Bill's home?...Great."

For the next few minutes, Cathy talked about how Mobile changed, even in the short few years she was gone. They were soon at their destination, so W.R. pulled into the parking lot and came to a stop. In a few minutes, an older pickup pulled next to the truck.

Looking at the truck for a moment brought a huge smile to Cathy's face. Climbing from the truck, she hurried to meet her mother, who she hugged tightly and kissed on the cheek. Quickly hugging her Uncle Bill, she turned to find W.R. approaching with her suitcase and bags.

"Mom; Uncle Bill; I want y'all to meet W.R."

Both smiled, and held out their hands. W.R. shook both their hands and said: "I'm pleased to meet you."

Cathy's mother responded: "I'm Ellen, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help."

W.R. examined her face, and replied: "It was nothing. It was on the way."

Ellen was pretty, just like Cathy said. Far from young, W.R. could see Cathy in thirty years.

We'd like you to have Christmas dinner with us."

"I appreciate the offer, but I need to keep going. I'm due to deliver my load tomorrow and pick up another for delivery in Dallas in two days."

Cathy pulled a small pad from her purse, quickly wrote down a number and handed it to W.R.

"This is my Mom's number. Call, if you're this way again."

W.R. took the piece of paper, stuck it in his coat pocket, and replied: "It's nice meeting you all, but I need to get going."

Cathy quickly hugged him, and said: "Merry Christmas, Wendell Roberts; and God bless."

W.R. hugged her back, looked at her face, and saw her tears. Turning, he returned to his truck, placed it in gear, and waved as he pulled away. Looking in his rear view mirror, he saw them standing together, and waving in return.

Pulling back on the service road, he was soon on the next entrance ramp and accelerating into the traffic. Rolling down the window, he reached into his pocket and threw the piece of paper out the window.

For a few moments, he regretted what he did, but knew it was best. Turning on the radio, he found a rock station and turned the music up loud. He'd stop a few miles up the road; and continue on, after a short nap. He'd work on his log book tomorrow, while he waited for them to unload his truck.

AI and the Bureaucracy

Have you wondered if the many of the interactions you have with government employees are with computers and not people? I have, and wonder how many government employees paid to perform tasks are just sitting around at home, letting their computers do all their work, and the oversight that is their responsibility neglected, or ignored. In many situations, how will you know? I doubt it's possible, and wonder if many of the actions of the current administration are performed by machines, and the machines are only doing what rogue programmers are programming them to do. What are the legal ramifications of such actions, and how can you tag someone with criminal charges?

Fani in a Sling

I think Fani Willis through ignorance, or outright maliciousness, decided it was a good thing to prosecute Trump without any legal authority. It's now put her ass in a sling, but I think the public deserves to have the funds she wasted returned. That, and her license removed, prosecution for her conduct, and never allowed anywhere near a court room again. She deserves worse, but at this point, it's enough. Maybe the future will show her legacy is filled with more than just being removed from a case.

Why Blame Biden?

Regardless of what the media reports, Biden has been toast for at least half a decade. Medications,  manipulation by the media, and other subterfuge were the only reason he was allowed in public. Some even think most of his public appearances were by a double, and some photos I've seen make me wonder. 

Biden is not in charge, somebody else is pulling the strings, the alphabet agencies are hiding who it is, the media is part of the charade and Congress is sitting on their hands. Biden hasn't done anything, and blaming him is ridiculous. If Trump does his job, the curtain will be pulled back and some higher officials will find "three hots and a cot" is their future. It can't happen soon enough.

Perception, Angular Size, and Drones

I've been reading a few articles, and watching some videos, of the drones spotted over New Jersey. There's a lost of sensationalism in reports, and it makes me wonder about those involved. 

I've seen big drones up close. At a facility I once worked that had huge stockpile of product, a drone was used to survey the piles of material to determine volume. It was around 4 feet across, which is much larger than the toy drones many have, and was a huge investment for the surveying company. It took two people to unload it from the truck that carried it, and carried elaborate surveying instruments onboard. It was interesting to watch, and I never paid much attention to it as it flew, but if I hadn't seen it on the ground, I would have had no idea of its size, or distance from me, without some reference. 

The sun, and the moon, are about 1/2 degree in angular size. To put that into perspective, if you hold your arm out, and stick your thumb up, about one half the width of your thumb will cover either. Doing so makes you realize how perceived sizes can be misleading. Both look like they cover a large section of the sky when rising, but in reality, even then you can blot them out with half your thumb. 

One article stated the individual that saw the drones reported they were up to 6 feet in diameter. Were they? How did they determine this? They also reported they would sometimes fly with their lights off. That made me wonder what they were seeing them with. Were they silhouetted against sky glow? Did they pass so close they had something close to reference them for size?

From what I know, drones larger than a few ounces require a license. Considering the size of New Jersey, and the population, I'd think there are thousands of licensed drones, which can be operated a few hundred feet above the ground without violating any FAA restrictions. Knowing how people are, how alcohol affects judgement, and the willingness of some to hatch elaborate pranks, I wouldn't be surprised if a little party by someone with more money than sense is what caused the reports. That, or a police force was using drones to chase a criminal, or for covert surveillance. 

I don't know if the facts will ever be known. I do know the theories, rumors, and outright lies will continue. They are usually more newsworthy, and sought for sensational reports. 

Now...How Do They Fix It?

The hype is thick, the boundaries are being set, the entrenchments are being dug, and the battles will start. Meanwhile, how are they going to fix the damage? People still are facing the expenses that became unsustainable, inflation has decimated wages, those on a fixed income have absolutely no hope of relief, and too many people are insulated from the damage they created, or participated in. The wise are saying it will take time, but many don't have that time. So, how are they going to fix it? I see very little that will be done, and it is making me furious,

Offense and Defense

Years ago, I read a book by an officer that commanded Army troops in Vietnam. It was an interesting read, but what really stuck in my mind was how the officer knew that defensive actions allowed enemy forces to group and attack. He didn't just expound about his thoughts; he explained through the events how they worked. 

Politically, the undesired effects of the defensive position of so called conservatives is glaringly apparent. It's time for that to change. A strong offensive effort is more than needed to remove the damage caused by allowing destructive ideas to flourish with nothing but pandering as the reaction. Laws have been broken, the lives of good people have been destroyed, and those responsible need to be punished for their efforts. That will never happen unless there is an overwhelming push to destroy the enemies of the United States; both foreign and domestic. There are sufficient laws to obtain this goal, and I expect Trump's appointments to accomplish this task.

Cold Rain and Heaters

We've been in the mid-forties all day, with occasional steady rain. With the high humidity, the chill goes to the bone, so running the heater to break the chill is necessary. 

My sister-in-law asked me to check on my other sister-in-law's heater. She said it had the odor of something dead when it was running. I went to check it out; hoping it was something easy to find. 

I looked with a flashlight, found nothing, and decided I need to go further into the system to find the source of the odor. Removing the squirrel cage blower revealed the problem: a dead mouse was laying on the heating coils. With the squirrel cage blower out, I decided the best thing was to go ahead and clean the fins. A little time with a screwdriver, small brush, and a shop-vac removed the accumulated dust. After replacing the blower, and checking the operation, the heater checked out ok. Vacuuming the cabinet removed the dust that accumulated over time. 

I need to do the same cleaning for my furnace. I'll wait for a nice day, with cool temperatures, and do the deed on a much better day for the task.

Up With the Roosters

According to most people, "up with the roosters" means to wake up at dawn. Roosters don't wake up at dawn; they wake up at 3:30 am, scream at the top of their lungs, and every rooster within earshot does the same. That, and it's not the "cockle doodle doo" as heard in cartoons. Some do, but they're the minority. Some will make you wonder if you should call 911 and report a murder. Others sound as though they're gargling corn, or are three pack a day smokers. All continue for hours; regardless of the weather. So, now you know you have been told something that isn't true. You're welcome.

After 83 Years

 When I was in school, the bombing of Pearl Harbor was still fresh in the minds of most people. Between that atrocity, and the other atrocities revealed over the next few years, the evils of the world were revealed. I doubt many of the younger generation of today even think about the significance of today. That, and the youngest have little idea of the horrors their parents felt after 9/11. The past fades away, those that dealt with the attacks on the U.S. slowly die off, and eventually the significance of the events are mostly forgotten. 

So, at a little before 8:00 am, it will be the 83rd anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. I won't forget the day, but many will. My generation is fading, my parent's generation is gone, and history becomes only a curiosity of those that make the effort to research the past.

I Think This Will Turn Into a Mistake

The proposed new government agency which is supposed to make the government more efficient will be hiring. Otherwise, another agency will be created, which will be run by the government, and I doubt anyone that has more brains than a house plant will believe it won't become another bureaucratic money pit. Congress is supposed to do that job, and it's the President's job to reign in spending without the aid of another bureaucracy. Regardless of the plan to have the agency disappear after the job is done, I don't believe that will ever happen. It's like drinking alcohol to fight cirrhosis of the liver. 

I'm Seeing Some People Mistakenly Expected Integrity

Biden pardoned his son. Some people appear to be shocked, or can't quite grasp the action. Integrity would demand Hunter bellied up to the bar and faced the consequences of his actions. Biden doesn't have that, most people know this, and expecting anything else is foolish speculation. 

This Article Made Me Laugh

Bill Clinton states he couldn't sleep for two years after Hillary lost. He doesn't admit the real reason, but his excuse probably keeps Hillary from nagging him day and night. In most situations, I might feel a little compassion for someone with such problems, but with him, if it's like being in Gitmo with loud pop music being played for 24 hours each day, it's only a small sample of the punishment he deserves.

It Would Only Take a Payload of Rocks

From what I've seen about the hypersonic missile strike, nuclear weapons will be a thing of the past. A payload of rocks, breaking apart a few thousand feet above the ground, at multiple times the speed of sound, would destroy huge sections of a city. There would be no radioactive after effects, and the destruction horrific. With the added fact missiles of this type are too fast for protective measures, those that have them can call the shots.

Salted Pecans and a Lesson Learned

Years ago, probably when I was around 12 years old, I started dipping into the salted pecans at my grandmother's to satisfy my appetite while waiting for Thanksgiving dinner. I would eat a few, go back for some more, ate too many, and they came back up. I made it to the bathroom unobserved, and hid the evidence with a toilet flush. I never told anyone, since such things were frowned upon...or at least I thought they were. I really don't know. I do know I had my first encounter with heartburn that day, and the dinner wasn't quite the enjoyable event I envisioned. 

Since that time, salted pecans are something I avoid. I've tried them, but liking the taste is gone, and will never return.

Early Thanksgiving

We're celebrating Thanksgiving on Wednesday due to some out of town ventures by family, and hunting. It will be good, but a reminder of my family is all gone, and all I will have to celebrate with them are memories. For those that have family still around, savor the day, and never forget every Thanksgiving may be one of their last. 

ZZ Top, La Grange and Nissan

In Texas, there is a historical address: 1629-2099 Rocky Creek Road, La Grange, TX 78945. Current photos on Google don't show anything but a pasture. A little research finds this was once the location of the famous "Chicken Ranch" ZZ-Top had the song "La Grange" which many probably don't know was about the brothel. That probably includes Nissan, which plays the instrumental in one of their commercials. In a way it's ironic. In another, it's an indication of how time blurs the past, and most people really have no idea about events of decades ago.

I've been to La Grange; even stayed one night, but a severe storm overnight left my car with some hail damage, which placed a damper on the trip. It has a quilt museum and one of my wife's favorite quilt shops in the downtown area. It also has a convenience store called the "Texas One Stop" on Hwy 71 that has some really good baked goods. It's a good location for traffic since it's one of the first places to stop for fuel, or to stretch your feet on the highway that runs from IH-10 to Austin. A visit to the large cemetery next to Colorado Street shows the numerous graves of the unfortunate during a Yellow Fever epidemic in 1867. There are too many graves with that year as the year of death, and the birth dates indicate many were young.

La Grange is close to the Hill Country, but doesn't have the steep hills, or is as dry. Nestled in a bend of the Colorado River, the city, and surrounding area, has some astounding oak trees. That, and the pastures in the outskirts allow some of the best grazing for cattle. Leaving town on 77 allows a twisting drive along one of the most beautiful sections of highway in Texas, but it's just more of the beauty of the city. The county court house is remarkable. The older streets are filled with magnificent live oaks, and there are restaurants for most taste preferences.

While the city is most known for a brothel long gone, it's not what many would envision. To me, it's a comfortable city, rich in history, and I was a little surprised with my first visit. I had no idea of what to expect, but my wife's anticipation of visiting the quilt museum was worth visit. She wasn't disappointed, and neither was I. Since that time, we've been back, and if we're traveling in that area, we will usually make it a point to pass through to stop at a quilt store.

Belligerent Ignorance

I've read where some cities are deciding to allow the illegal aliens to stay and ignore the mandates of law. If existing laws are followed, anyone involved is committing a crime, which make me wonder if a patrol officer will be willing to be charged for following the demands of a corrupt official. Time will tell. Using the excuse they were only following orders won't insulate them from state and federal charges. 

A Problem I See Developing

If things go as planned by the next administration, there will be numerous people finding their time in public sector employment has ended. The problem I see is that a substantial number of them have absolutely no skill to offer to the private sector. Otherwise, they'll be faced with the same thing those in the private sector faced after the confiscatory taxes, inflation, loss of jobs, and bureaucratic punishment with regulations. I guess I should feel sorry for them, but after watching my career stumble over the years due to their efforts, my compassion is pretty thin. That, and the snarky comment to those that lost jobs that suggested they need to learn to code.

 If there is any justice, the first thing Congress should do is cut their pay by 30%. That, and take away the perks they abuse. Will they? Of course not. They created this mess, grew it for decades, and ignored their responsibility. They'll pontificate, promise things, act busy and collect their salary. That, and vote themselves a raise during the next session. 

Middle of the Night Stuff

Sometimes, I wake in the middle of the night for no reason I can find. Tonight is one of those nights. Before I woke, I was dreaming, but it wasn't one where waking is mandatory to prevent further damage to peace of mind. I've had those dreams before; some filled with the terror of impending death, or a hopeless situation. My dream was of dealing with meeting with an air-conditioner contractor for a new unit at my parent's house, which was my house they were living in, which I'd never seen before, but was familiar with, even though it was a complete fabrication of my imagination. That, and it was near a town I knew, but was a town I've never been to in real life, and the people I was dealing with were people from my past that (as far as I know) never had anything to do with air-conditioning installations. It wasn't stressful. It was more like a typical day just dealing with life. So, after waking, and realizing sleep wasn't possible, I decided for some coffee and time on the porch. 

My neighbor's dog was raising hell at something. Considering the location, I had the feeling it had a critter in the dumpster. It would run one way, bark at the dumpster, run around to another strategic location, bark again, and make every effort to keep the dumpster surrounded. Shining my spotlight didn't reveal anything but a startled dog that slunk away as though I was scolding it. My dog, which decided to go on the porch with me, added a few woofs for good measure, and the dogs in the neighborhood added their woofs to show their solidarity. 

I stayed outside for a little longer to see if there was something that led me to waking. I couldn't determine anything out of the ordinary. Maybe it was the gusty wind from the approaching change in weather disturbing my sleep. That, or maybe the change in barometric pressure is more of an influence than known. I'll never know, but do know the coffee is good, the temperature is 71 degrees outside, and it's the grand time before civilization shatters the morning calm. I'll take my coffee back to the porch and contemplate the correct solutions to the problems of the world.

Culling the Herd

We'll see how many of the bureaucrats, and other parasites on taxpayers, are culled from the public teat. It all sounds good, especially since the drain on funds is unsustainable, but regardless of opinion, my experience in life tells me it's mostly political promises that will never be kept. I know this sounds cynical, but in my sixty-plus years of being on this planet, I've never seen the Federal Government shrink in size, defeat inflation, not buy votes with taxpayer money, or pull the leash on agencies that abuse rights daily. Time will tell, and I pray things will become better, but until it happens, I will be cynical.

She Could Have Handled It Differently

 Melania Trump was invited for tea with Jill Biden. She declined for a good reason. She took the high road, instead of accepting the offer, meeting here for tea, throwing it in Jill Biden's face, and stomping a mud hole in her ass. Jill would have deserved it. She could have denounced the actions of her husband, but her failure shows she was all for the incredibly callous act of thuggery by her husband. 

Still Counting

 Some states are still counting votes on the 12th of November. From what I've read, it's due to signature verification, absentee ballots, mail-in ballots and other malarky created by bureaucrats. To me, it's BS. It gives the professional vote stealers time to shuffle away ballots they don't like, and certify suspicious ballots that should have been thrown away days ago. When you add the electronic manipulation that's almost impossible to find until long after the election, it's too much exposure to illegal actions. 

It's taking too long. anyone with an IQ larger than a garden vegetable knows this, and it's wrong.

Gully Washer

We've were shy of rain over the last two month, which prompted a burn ban. With about 4 inches over the last week two weeks, they lifted the ban, which allowed many to burn their accumulations of pine needles and deadfall. Last night, the rain started, and not only did it become heavy, radar showed a group of showers moving slowly, and more developing right behind. Other than one glitch with the electricity, the heavy rain was the only problem. 

This morning, I went on the porch to find light rain falling. Checking my rain gauge, I found it was topped, and have no idea how much rain fell past six inches. I do know we're under a flash flood warning, and although I haven't yet checked, the road into the neighborhood probably is flooded. 

So, the biggest change in season is rain. We haven't had much of any cool weather. In fact, we've had lows in the upper sixties, and highs in the upper eighties for the last two weeks. The front that prompted the rain is supposed to stall, and more rain is forecast for today. We don't need it, but at least the entire area hasn't had so much rain. Hopefully the water drains off quickly, and the tropical system doesn't impede the drainage with high tides.

How Will It Proceed?

The illegals have been given an eviction notice. The public funds will disappear, those helping will find they should get out of the business, and the reverse migration will begin. Deportation will get some, but there will be so many, they'll be heading to the borders, and I'm wondering how the neighbors to the north, and the south, will react when they face the same problem they helped create. "Tough luck" is all I can think as appropriate. You reap what you sow.

The Manure Will Be Thick

Usually, after Democrats spend years abusing power, ignoring the rule of law, and causing mayhem, they call for us to "come together" and "work together" after losing their power. I see it coming, and will ignore it as usual. They need to be punished for what they did to the United States, and the punishment should be capital for many.

So, Here We Are

Trump is the apparent winner of the election. Somewhere, by the 25th of December, all the electoral duties will be completed and the official acts placing Trump in office will start, or not. Until then, in my opinion, there will be some efforts to cause problems, those wiser than political rhetoric will realize they need to turn from their evil ways, and many rats will leave the sinking ship of Democrat subterfuge. Time will tell, but whatever happens, things will be different, and those wishing to cause problems will find a citizenry unwilling to put up with their shenanigans.  

Calm Before The Storm

Early voting is out of the way, and the anticipation of the election on Tuesday is creating a lot of anxiety. How it turns out is yet to be seen, but considering things up to this point, the conjecture, projections and outright lies will fill the news for a long time. That, and the start of the next election cycle will begin for the next four years of B.S.

Bleh!

Extreme Accuracy

Below is a photo of my rain gauge. My wife bought it a few years ago, and it had better markings, but the sun faded them into oblivion. Not wanting to throw away my favorite rain gauge, I pulled out my Sharpie, measured for the markings, and turned it into the most accurate rain gauge ever made. I know some may disagree, and I understand their concern of what appears as exaggeration, but I can assure you my skills allow me to use the markings to accurately measure accumulated rainfall down to the thousands of an inch. Of course I don't record the rainfall, since my memory is so well developed I can tell you the exact amount for any day up to two days ago.

I had a family member read, and question me about my facetious post. I can ascertain my sanity hasn't been compromised, and I'm not trying to mislead about my weather abilities. It was all in fun, and no animals were injured in the process of creating this post.

I Despise Spammers

 After getting the same phishing email multiple times, I decided to block it, and opened up the gates of spammer hell. Otherwise, I notified whoever keeps the spammer list to update my email as a good email for spam, and they've double-teamed my email . 

I despise spammers, and think they should all be punished by hand writing every spam they ever sent, to every mailbox that received one of their spams, and then chop off their fingers...maybe that's too harsh. Just chop off their fingers. 

A Local Sinkhole

Near to where I live is a sinkhole. It's on private property, so access isn't allowed. Since it's in an old, still producing oilfield, oilfield workers still have access, which bring me to what crossed my mind this morning. 

I met a man that had the opportunity to work near the sinkhole. There was a boat accessible, so he, and a coworker, decided to see how deep the water was. After tying a heavy bolt to the end of a 1000' roll of nylon string, they let it out, until he was holding the very end of the roll. They never determined how deep the sinkhole was, but knew it was over 1000' deep. From what I've read, the sinkhole started about a century ago, and has steadily grown since that time.

The sinkhole, from what I know, is the result of the collapse of a salt dome that was structurally compromised after years of oil extraction. One of many in the area, the empty domes are used for storing brine, or ethylene. They usually hold, and no problems appear, but I'm glad I'm a long distance away from the area. I do know the sinkhole started to have a rising water level a few decades ago, which prompted the stoppage of a brine injection process. Otherwise, there was leakage between the salt domes, and what was being injected was coming back up. The same thing happened years ago in Mont Belview, Texas, except the leakage was from a propane storage dome. They evacuated much of the city, placed flares in yards, and a trip through the area on the highway allowed to stay open at night was a macabre experience. All the electricity was turned off, the darkened area was only lit by the pipes protruding from the ground with open flames burning off propane.

We had another sinkhole appear in another local community a few years ago. Due to the proximity to the highway running through the community, TxDot monitored the area closely, and would have closed the highway if the sinkhole had continued growing. 

We don't have the same type of sinkholes that are found in Florida. Those here are not caused by erosion of subterranean limestone deposits. They're caused by the removal of oil from salt domes, without injecting brine to continue the upward pressure. This leads to settlement, which may be gradual, and lead to a large area of land sinking over time, or a rapid settlement creating a sinkhole. It's sobering to think of where they might appear, and with directional drilling, there's no way to completely rule out an unsuspecting landowner finding a hole thousands of feet deep appearing in a short period of time.

Dark Skies Tonight

I dragged out the tripod, and binoculars, to see if I could still see the comet. I could, and with it higher above the horizon, and without too much sky glow, it was more spectacular, in my opinion. 

It's about apparent magnitude of 7, so without really dark skies, naked eye observation is out of the question With binoculars, the comet is a dull point of light, and the tail is about 1 degree in apparent length. (for reference, the full moon is 1/2 degree across) It might be more, but only a time lapse photo would show how spectacular it is to observe.

I miss the clear, dark skies where I once lived. Over time, with people moving closer, TxDot building some tall light towers, and an increase in population in the local small community, once skies good for observing the heavens became mediocre, at best. 

The sky is much darker where I now live, but unless I take out my pellet rifle, and spend some time taking care of some security lights, I have to tolerate the effect it has with astronomy. I don't like it, but that's how things are. It's not the best, but tolerable.

The Fiction of Reality

I've watched multiple "reality" programs on the television. They can be interesting, but they aren't reality. 

Boat skippers, and crew, being paid to be on television don't have the same financial concerns of those that don't. That, and those thinking they should also try the same endeavor have a tendency to cause problems with fishing limits, and yields.

Regardless of how portrayed, few people have a few hundred thousand to remodel a home overpriced at a few hundred thousand. That, and few envision an entertainment space of a thousand square feet for entertaining. Most people just want the opportunity to own their own home, but can't afford a note that's more than half of what they make...if they can even get financing for that endeavor. When you add the taxes, heating costs, and insurance to these "Taj Mahals" of fantasy, reality goes out the window.

There are more "reality" shows, but they're all entertainment. Reality is much tougher and restrained by considerations most people face. The drama showed, and obvious retakes, or staging, of actual events, is not reality, and never will be. I can write that those that hold the camaras, feed the crews, take care of arrangements, direct or produce, and endure hours of boredom, are the reality stars. You seldom see them, and they're edited out of most productions.

Unmistakable Sound

I was outside, heard an airplane fly over, and immediately recognized the sound of a C-130 flying over. It was at a higher altitude, and probably in route to one of the bases in Texas. It made me think of the past. 

During the Vietnam War, our local airport was used daily for training of C-130 pilots. I'm guessing the reason was the lack of traffic, the fact the wind direction was usually from a direction near south, and the if there was a problem, any crashes south of the airport would be in the miles of empty fields in that direction. Maybe there was another reason, but that's the one that makes the most sense. 

On any day, the pilots would do touch-and-go's constantly. From where I lived, I could see them after they gained altitude, and headed south. I really didn't pay much attention where they went after that, but with the Gulf of Mexico within twenty miles, they probably spent some of their time flying where uh-ohs didn't involve populated areas. 

West of our city, there were some large, mostly empty pastures, which were handy for paratrooper training. Occasionally, if you happened to be driving down the highway that adjoined the fields, you could see them jumping from the planes, and it reminded me of watching WW2 footage. 

So, what is now a rare occurrence brought back some things I haven't thought about in years. I never knew if the pilots, or troops, were full time troops, or National Guard. Regardless, it was an interesting time.

Early Morning Peace

We had some fog this morning. I was out on the porch before sunrise, drinking some coffee, and remembering the aftermath of Hurricane Rita came to my mind. When I finally almost made it home, after a long out of the way trip to avoid road blocks, the heavy fog gave the area a surreal feel. 

Power lines were down. I ran over a few, and went around trees partially blocking the road to my house. The things I saw on the main highway, and what I was driving through, gave me a sense of foreboding. I couldn't see my house until I pulled into the driveway. A quick glance showed some pine trees laying across the drive. Looking toward my house, all I could see were a few shingles missing, and a lot of leaf debris scattered in the yard. I got out of my truck, and walked around to the back. A  big oak had split, but the large branch fell away from my house. Further inspection yielded no other damage, and a look in the house showed no water had made its way through the damaged roof. It was already hot, and the day would bring brutal heat with high humidity. 

I was relieved, but the light tower/generator I was pulling needed to be placed, and the trees removed from the drive. It led to a long day, and the installation of a window unit in the bedroom where my wife, and I, slept. I had extension cords ran, but hooking up the well pump would have to wait until tomorrow, when I hoped I could find the correct plug for the generator. The sun faded quickly, The darkness was complete after the sun set. The entire area was without power, and it took long minutes in the dark outside to adjust to the darkness. Even then, little could be seen. 

My sleep was fitful. I had my gun handy, but the drone of the light tower, and air conditioner, kept me from hearing anything outside. My mind raced with thoughts of people coming to rob, or more, and the darkness in the house was complete. Holding my hand to my face revealed nothing. It was as though we were in a cave, and I felt a little claustrophobic. In that type of darkness, it closes around you, until you feel as though you're in a casket. 

This morning was far different. The temperature was in the fifties, the cold dampness permeated the morning, and everything felt right. The coffee was good, and crow of roosters broke the quiet. Eventually the fog lifted, and the warm sun broke the chill. It was the dawn of a beautiful morning, and I feel blessed to have peace.

Another Hurricane

Hurricane Milton is the next storm to threaten the U.S. mainland. The question is how strong it will be at landfall. That, and how it will affect the area in Florida where it is expected to make landfall. 

I looked at the Tampa area elevations. Surprisingly, like many sections of the Florida Coast, elevations way above any surge are found near the coast. Anything 20 feet, or above, in elevations will not be inundated by a storm surge, and if impacted by a hurricane in the last few years, wind damage will be much lower than an area not impacted for decades. 

So, there is a lot of doom and gloom, which is what some of the meteorologists are paid to peddle, but I have a feeling those in Florida know the drill, most will leave, newer structures have been built for hurricane force winds, and the state forces are will prepared to offer help after the passage of the storm. Hopefully, as it approaches, the wind lessens, a lower number hurricane comes ashore, and those that were just impacted by Helene are not severely impacted by the next storm. 

What's Coming For the Unfortunate People Affected by Helene

Disasters bring something that many don't realize. Relief from the feds has strings attached, which involve insurance. There might be some money, which isn't enough for rebuilding, and the stipulation of keeping insurance on what is rebuilt. The caveat? The insurance will be cost prohibitive for most people, the new building codes very strict, and the condemnation of land is a possibility. Otherwise, families may find the land they occupied, and lived on, for generations is condemned, or too expensive to keep, if they want financial help. Investors will offer money to many, and they'll take the money for their land because they have nothing they can do to survive without the money. Of course, some will stay, and take care of things without government help, but with the feds involved, no relief will ever be available again in the future for areas considered part of the relief.

The Progression Nobody Cares For

School started about a month ago. So has the seasonal passing of pathogens by children. The usual colds, stomach viruses and maladies without names appeared, and now a great niece that lives close has strep throat. So, the entire family will now be exposed, including a toddler and an infant. My wife, like me, will now avoid them all, keep the hand sanitizer close, and hope we haven't been exposed to any of the illnesses that are now prevalent. 

Bleh!

Something Learned By Experience

FEMA is feckless. It's a ponderous bureaucracy filled with people that have a comfortable salary, good benefits, ridiculous political beliefs, and willing to use the money they have for anything other than what it was intended. If you don't believe this, think about how taxpayer money allocated for helping those in a disaster is being funneled into the traitorous effort to help illegal invaders. That alone should be convincing, and a less polite society would be rounding up traitors for prosecution. 

Reflecting

 I was reflecting on how things change. I now live where I once hunted. Pastures once filled with cattle are now cookie-cutter testaments to urban sprawl, small rural highways are now six lane streets in congested areas, once clear night skies are dimmed by electric lighting that removes the splendor of the heavens, and the creep of "civilization" is closer than I feel comfortable with. 

I'm now at the age of my grandfather (who was in the Army Air Corp during WW1) when the first men landed on the moon. He, too, eventually lived where he once hunted, and watched the evolution of flight from fabric covered airplanes to supersonic jets. Communication during his youth was by mail, or telegraph. Telephones eventually arrived, but a party line was the usual luxury of a telephone in a home. He lived to see mobile phones, but was gone before the modern smart phones were introduced. 

Unless some miracle method to stop aging arrives, my time here is down to maybe a few decades. It's a sobering thought, and at this time, I'm in good enough health to have not reached the point passing on will be a welcome relief. I'll enjoy it while it lasts, and count my blessings. Age has brought the realization all the "things" so cherished when young are burdens during later life, and the simple things, when observed without the bustle of a career, are things to be cherished.

An Interesting Monday

Sleeping last night was waking two, or three, times for no reason. I blame it on knowing I would have jury duty, and since I retired, having a set time to awaken does that to my sleep. So, I was out of bed at around 4:00 am, which gave me plenty of time to make breakfast, drink coffee, and go outside to see if I would have the opportunity to observe Tsuchchinshan-Atlas. 

The site linked gives a real time perspective of viewing times. This morning, even with some trees blocking my view to the East, there was enough darkness, and a transparent sky, to view the comet before the Sun brightened the sky. It was barely visible to the naked eye, although it was for a few minutes. My binoculars gave the best view, and it definitely looked like a comet. I woke my wife, she was happy to see something she has never seen, and within a few minutes, the sky was too bright to observe any longer. It wasn't nearly as observable as Comet West in the '70's, but it was a treat. 

Jury duty was all morning, a Voir Dire I thought was too long, and a $20 bill for my four hours of time. If I had been chosen for the jury, tomorrow would have yielded more money. My county pays $60 a day, if serving beyond the first day. It was an interesting experience, and I didn't have any facts to determine if the defendant is guilty, but in Texas, a felony charge of driving while intoxicated is after two other convictions. The defense attorney was, according to what I could surmise, pushing for the traffic stop being illegal, which should remove any other evidence from use in the trial. He might be successful. The only real question I have is who struck me from the jury. Was it the prosecutor? Or, was it the defense attorney. I don't know, but would like to know why. 

A family member was taken by another family member to the hospital to determine why they're having severe abdominal pain. They went in this morning. As of 9:00 tonight, they're still there waiting for results from a CAT scan. Hopefully it's all good news, and a simple problem easily fixed. My wife is not at peace, and worrying about both. Neither is young, and stress leads to fatigue. 

So, Monday has been a busy day, a nap didn't do much for rest, and it's looking like it will be long evening, if not a long night. Time will tell, and what will happen is unknown. 

After it was all said, and done, the abdominal pain was not due to a serious condition. It's some type of after-effect of hernia surgery from around a year ago. It's not dangerous, can be surgically treated, and the final result a clean bill of health.

More of the Same

I was looking at the National Hurricane Center 7 day forecast. Something in the Caribbean is anticipated to form, and will enter the Gulf of Mexico. At this time of the year, with the change in weather patterns, such systems are more likely to travel to the Eastern Gulf, which will lead to another storm affecting Florida. They don't need it, and the states just inundated with so much rain don't need it either. Maybe it will fizzle out, and nobody is affected.  

This is Irritating

 I received a notice my credit rating dropped tremendously due to an account in collections. My first reaction was to see what account, and to determine if it was any account I knew existed. An examination revealed something I didn't want to see. 

Apparently, someone opened up a cell phone, or broadband, account in my name, failed to pay their bill, and the account was sent to a collection agency. The original account was an ATT Mobility account, which had unpaid fees of around $1,400. The collection agency is out of a city in New York, and that's all was able to find out. A little research gave me methods to handle this problem.

I notified the credit agencies of the fraud, filed a report with the government agency that handles identity theft, and wrote a letter to the collection agency to send me all information they had on the account. Also, I notified them it was part of an investigation, and requested they remove the credit report. Next, I probably will freeze all my credit, and see how this plays out. 

There is an acceptable punishment for such thieves. It requires a ship with a hull covered in barnacles, four long pieces of rope, and enough strong individuals willing to drag the offender along the bottom of the ship. Video the event, and place it on public television.

Late Night Quiet

Last night, just before I went to bed, I thought I heard thunder. A peek at the radar showed a broken line of thunderstorm to the northwest, so I went to the porch to watch. 

It was quiet; really quiet. As I looked to the northwest, a flash of lightning lit the sky. I started counting, which allows determining the distance, if there are no other bolts. I was at sixty seconds when I heard the low rumble. This is a new record for me. Most storms have too much lightning to determine an accurate distance. At twelve miles, and with any background noise, I wouldn't have been able to hear it.

After a short time, more bolts occurred, but within thirty minutes, the storms dissipated. Radar only showed a line of light rain, which stayed above my location. The front stalled, but this morning, it was reinforced by a stronger front helped by Hurricane Helene's winds. This will bring us cool mornings, and bearable afternoons. It's a good start, and I'm looking forward to cooler temperatures.

I'm Impressed

My wife loves quilt stores. I like them, too, but not like she does. I get more out of watching her examine the different fabrics. She's like a child in a candy store, and while she browses the inventory, she's thinking what she can make. Her current quilt, which she finally finished yesterday, was something a little outside of her box, but she had a compulsion and followed the urge. 

I'm holding it up in the first photo. The finished dimensions are about 5 ft. by 6 ft. The photos really don't completely capture the brilliance of the colors, but are close. The fabric between the panels, due to the pattern, give the appearance the borders are not straight, although the pieces of fabric are all cut straight. 

I'm impressed, and while she can critique the quilt, I know it's her expert eye finding things the majority of people would miss. I think it's one of the most beautiful things she ever created and I'm proud of her creation.

I Can Only Blame Myself

 The best intentions are easily forgotten, and my intention to use the pressure washer yesterday led to some time in the heat I didn't envision. 

Before I added gas to the pressure washer, I checked the state of the gasoline. I knew it had been awhile since it was used, and couldn't remember if fuel conditioner was added in the past. After smelling the familiar odor of old gas, decided I needed to drain the tank and carburetor bowl. It didn't take long, so I hooked it up, made sure the pump had water, set the choke, pulled the pull rope and was rewarded with the engine running one second. I pulled some more with the choke off, tried it with the choke on again, and it wouldn't start. 

I let it sit for a few minutes, took a break to rest my arm, set the choke, pulled the rope, and it started again...for one second. Pulling the rope again, and again, was a useless endeavor, so I resigned myself to the task of delving deeper into the problem. 

I knew it was getting fire, since it ran for a few seconds. That left only the carburetor, and I didn't relish the task of removing it, but without any other recourse, did so, which led to the usual fighting with throttle linkage, and hoses. That, and the careful examination of disassembly to guarantee replacement didn't end up with extra parts. 

The bowl was full of varnish, which verified there was probably more deeper in the carburetor. So, I removed the float, which revealed an accumulation of crud, and the realization I didn't have any carburetor cleaner. A trip to the parts house was necessary, and I was soon ready to finish my cleaning. 

I removed the main jet, cleaned the small passages with a small wire, sprayed carburetor cleaner through the ports, and was rewarded with all being open, instead of being sealed, and possibly, not being able to be opened. Reassembly was a short task, and it wasn't long before I had the pressure washer back together. A short pull after choking showed I was successful. 

In the end, it was all good. I accomplished the washing I intended, and I know the washer will now be stored with fuel stabilizer. The only problem was the cool of the morning I anticipated for cleaning was lost to repairing the washer. That rewarded me with doing the power washing in the sun and the temperature at 95 degrees. I live, and I learn. How that relates to a learning curve is unknown, but I have a feeling it might be described as steep.

Jury Duty

I received a summons for jury duty the other day. In the past, I've served on one jury, and been called a few times. Since I'm retired, have no work reason for not going to serve. 

I know many people don't like jury duty, but it's an interesting process, and allows some time to observe the slow, grinding wheels of justice. From what court the summons is for, it will be for a criminal trial, and those can be eye opening. The only trial I was a juror was a criminal trial, and the responses by the jurors in the jury room were sometimes astounding.

The Battle For Territory

This year brought new arrivals. We've always had fire ants, but what are known as "crazy ants" have arrived. They don't bite (at least I've never been bitten) and are tenacious foragers. Their big problem is their attraction to electricity. They'll fill a junction box, or a circuit board, and eventually short it out. I've experienced their destruction on a project where they filled the computer on a changeable message board, and the only repair was complete replacement. 

So, I spray them when they're around the house, carefully watch outside electrical appliances, and have to accept they're here to stay. One good thing is they will overwhelm fire ants. Where last year mounds were all in the yard, this year hasn't revealed but a few. Still, they're an invasive species, and I don't like having to deal with them.

Free Range Pets

Back in the late seventies, my hometown took money sponsored Vietnamese refugees. Local churches, including my grandmother's, were proud of their money being spent for the endeavor...until they came. I'll explain the problems. 

First, the plan was to relocate the refugees in an area that best matched the environment they were accustomed to living. My hometown was on the coast, so the fishermen were relocated to the area; including some of the suburbs of the Houston metroplex. Sounds good? Right? 

A local wealthy grocery owner conveniently had a multitude of rent house near his store, which allowed them to be filled with the refugees. This area was near my grandmother's, and somehow, she ended up with a family across the street from her house. That's when reality set in. 

Without careful thought, and planning, nobody realized the people that fished in Vietnam were not the same as the people that fished in the United States. The cultural difference was immediately apparent, and the results were not pretty. 

The people across the street from my grandmother's would hang their nets in the trees to dry. For those that don't understand fishing nets, they acquire an odor when drying. Not everything washes out, and residue takes on the odor of dead fish. To add insult to injury, commodes were not readily available to many of the refugees in their country, so the porcelain storage area in the small room was convenient for storing shrimp. A little chlorine bleach in the water prevented the shrimp from becoming unsellable in a short period of time, and buyers of shrimp became wary of any shrimp that smelled like chlorine bleach. Shrimp were cheap at the roadside sales on the highway, but not smelling the shrimp before buying was not recommended.

Children, when afflicted with intestinal problems, were allowed to play outside with nothing but a shirt. That allowed them to drain, without soiling their clothes, and this infuriated my grandmother, who wholeheartedly promoted the refugees, and now wanted them gone. She commented one day: "They need to bring them all to the ship channel and throw them in."

I was living in an apartment in the same area at the time. One thing I noticed over time, was the absence of the neighborhood pets that once roamed freely.  Rumor was they were being supper, but I never had any proof, although I did notice the absence of pets I'd watched over a period of time. 

Local fishermen had a huge problem with the refugees. The refugees were given resources the local fishermen spent years of accumulating, and the refugees were exempted from many of the wildlife laws, which gave them an advantage over the local fishermen. To add insult to injury, the refugees, with their free resources, could cut the prices and the local fishermen suffered. There was even an incident of violence in Seabrook, Texas that made national news. 

So, here we are again. This time it's not being swept under the rug, and the internet offers daily views of the problems created by the unbridled relocation of refugees. It doesn't work, and it never will. 

I have to add those of Vietnamese heritage have assimilated into our society, most are productive, good citizens, and those I've known are blessed with strong family values and integrity. It took a long, long time for their adapting to our society, and the method used was far from what anyone could describe as a good solution.

Dancing Monkeys

The economy is terrible, but it's good. Most of the media chooses a side, and the reports they publish confirm their opinion. So, who do you believe? You can't trust most of the media, and politicians have to lie to stay in office. Samuel Clemens had a good quote about this: 

"There is nothing in the world like persuasive speech to fuddle the mental apparatus." 

Unfortunately, too many people have a malfunctioning mental apparatus, and fuddling is not really that difficult. The most educated have lost their ability to perform critical thinking, and they pontificate ideas influenced by money, power, or both.  The least educated are willing to accept their opinion because it's presented by self-appointed "experts". To make things worse, their dancing monkeys present sometimes erroneous "facts" as truth, and dare you to question their opinion. 

So. is everything terrible? It isn't for those that are blessed with resources that adapt to whatever the economy does. For those that don't have this blessing, their shrinking ability to acquire resources is leading to decision that are earth shattering. They have to accept less, watch investments lose value, put off retirement until they may have the ability to retire, give up their dreams and endure the increase in crime that follows economic downturns. To add insult to injury, they have to adapt, and pay, for the politicians, and bureaucrats, salary with benefits increase they decided they needed. 

It's hard to accept our society is now run, and financed, by those without integrity or morals. Maybe it always has been this way, but it doesn't make it easier to accept. 

It Was a Beautiful Morning (Annual repost 2024)

With all the pandering about the debate, too many forgot how pandering to evil led led to disaster. Unfortunately, those that were the worst of our problems have now infiltrated into the United States and are free to wander our streets.  

****


It was an early Fall. The temperature was in the mid 50's and the skies were crystal clear. I had just finished breakfast and we were driving to the job site in the twilight of dawn. The motel was close to our project site, so the trip was short.

Traffic was light as we placed the advance warning signs and started closing down the inside lane of U.S. 59 in Cleveland, Texas. We had five sections of concrete to pull. We sawed the concrete the day before, drilled lifting holes and now needed to pull the sections of failed pavement and start preparing for the new concrete. The pour was set for 10:00 am.

It didn't take long for the lifting machine to pull the first section of paving. As soon as the broken slab was moved to the shoulder, the crew started drilling holes for the anchors. When the anchors were placed, the crew placed a mat of rebar and moved to the next patch.

The procedure was moving as planned, so all five patches were well on the way to being prepared by 8:00 am. We would be ready for the concrete. I checked the work and started documenting the sizes on a daily report.

Around 30 minutes later, my boss called my cell phone. I assumed he was checking our progress, but he wanted to tell me that a plane had hit one of the World Trade Towers. He didn't have any details. I wondered what failure had led a pilot to fly their small plane into the tower. Bad weather? An error in judgement? I thought about it for a few minutes and then went back to work.

It didn't seem very long after that when my boss called me again, which I thought would be a progress check. It wasn't. He explained that it was a passenger jet that hit the first tower and another had flown into the second tower. He described the preliminary news feeds he was watching on television. I could only stare while my mind raced.

We continued working. My boss kept me informed. It was now clear it was a planned terror attack. He was in contact with the area engineer office for the Texas Department of Transportation. We were working for them and their decisions would decide whether we would pour concrete, which required hours of time to set, or place a temporary material to be removed in the future. The decision was to proceed as we always did, so we prepared for the concrete pour.

Before the concrete arrived, my wife called. She was terrified and wanted me to come home. I told her I couldn't leave until the concrete was poured and we were off the highway. Even then, I couldn't leave if we were to continue with our project. I told her I would come home immediately if the project was shut down, and to go to her mother's if she became too worried.

More information was now available, so I knew there was an immediate call for all air traffic to land. I noticed the absence of air traffic immediately. We were close enough to Bush International in Houston to see the constant flow of air transports, which dwindled and eventually ended.

We poured the concrete and started the process of preparing for the next day. I went to the motel to catch what I could on television. The loops of the impacts, the falling towers and the smoking section of the Pentagon was almost unbelievable. My mind was having a hard time wrapping around the fact we had been attacked and the result was the death of thousands of innocent people.

We finished the day as usual. We were prepared for the next day when we started opening the lane in the early afternoon. I had spent long minutes as we were finishing staring at the empty skies, It was bizarre to not see the heavy air traffic. Contrails from military jets stretched across the skies. I wondered if they were ours, or the jets of an enemy that was in the process of invading.

I had kept in contact with my wife during the day. After I reached the motel, we had a long conversation. She was calmer. I knew she still wanted me to come home, but she understood that it probably wouldn't happen until the week was over. Since I was only about two hours from home, I reassured it wouldn't take long to reach home if anything changed.

Watching television was like watching a fictional disaster movie. I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around the events of the day, but it was becoming clearer that it was a middle eastern terror group. My anger was rising and all I could think of  was how cowardly it was to attack innocents. I wanted our military to bomb half the Middle East to Hell. Kill them all and let God sort them out.

I'll never forget that day. Time stopped and it became apparent that the cruelty in the world is always only moments away. Barbarians had tested our defenses and managed to find a weak spot for their advantage. It wasn't a pleasant thought then and still isn't. I feel no compassion for such people and can only offer their death be swift, although many days I'd prefer they would suffer the agony of those trapped on the upper floors of the World Trade Center Towers.  Even after years, I'm still angry. I'm not ready to forgive, or forget. 

Sliding to the East

 On Saturday, when the tropical system in the Gulf was first being modeled, we were nearly dead center of the cone. Yesterday, the cone was slipping to the east, and we were on the left side of the cone. Today, we're out of the cone, and the newest forecast track of the center is somewhere near Vermillion Bay in Louisiana. That's good news for us, but New Orleans will be on the dirty side of the storm; whatever it does. It may be a hurricane, but some forecast are saying it will be only a tropical storm at landfall. Either way, there will be a surge, lots of rain on the east side of the center, and those on the coast will see some type of storm surge. Hopefully, it moves fast, and the damage is minimal compared to a storm that sits on the coast.

Different Days

We didn't have air conditioning when I was in school. The teacher's lounge did, as well as the administrative offices. Some teachers were kind, made sure the class caught some of the breeze from the fan, and suffered with the students on the days when the temperature was in the nineties, and the humidity was high. Other's didn't, and only kept the fan where they were. It was that way until the year I graduated high school. The next year involved huge amounts of money to air condition buildings not designed for the systems, and guaranteed many of the old buildings would be demolished for the new schools needed for replacing the old buildings with only one problem: they didn't have air conditioning. It was all for the children...or not.

Lacking Profundity

 There are many things that cross my mind during the day. I think about writing about the thoughts, but the lack of profundity guarantees the effort will be futile. Maybe some earth-shattering revelation will cross my mind, and I will write a post that impresses......or not.

Bleh!

Dog Days

I was curious about the term "dog days", so I looked it up. It's from the time of the Roman Empire, and was somewhere around the period of July 3 to August 11, which are the generally the hottest days of the year. That's when the star Sirius in the constellation Canis Major (big dog) would appear near sunrise. That was true back then, but due to the wobble of the Earth (precession) Sirius rises later in the year. This wobble, which is a 26,000 year cycle changes the time constellations rise, the stars that can be considered the north star, and pretty well destroys the wizardry of astrology. That, and destroys my original conception of how the dog days of summer were when dogs did as little as possible, laid under the porch, and waited for the cool of the evening to ease the brutal heat.

Saga of the Bridges

 In my early years, we had a few mechanical bridges that crossed local waterways with commercial traffic. Two were draw bridges, and four were swing bridges. They served their purpose, and were marvels for their time, but being mechanical, they had problems. 

One drawbridge, when it was raised for what would be the last time, was left in that position. Another drawbridge, had an electrical fire in the raised position, which left it in that position until demolition. Both left some important areas without access, except through long trips that would take over an hour. The solution was temporary ferry service, but the ferries could only handle pedestrians. Those that were affected left cars on either one, or both sides, for carpooling. Inconvenient is a mild term to describe the situation. 

The swing bridges were less of a problem, but cantankerous machines. Problems would arise, parts might not be available for the old bridges, and the costs to operate prohibitive. The solution for two of the bridges was replacement with spans higher than any boat traffic. The solutions have been there for years, and those affected never affected by mechanical problems since. 

Two of the swing bridges remain. Both have had expensive repairs, are still cantankerous, and loved by those historically minded folks that wouldn't be so anal about the bridges if they had to pay for the costs associated to keep them in service. How long this lasts is to be seen, but as time goes by, and those without any emotional ties to the bridges are gone, they'll be replaced, and the extra costs for keeping the old bridges absorbed by the taxpayers that probably don't know they even exist. 

Hot Days

We've hovered officially around 100 degrees the last few days, but my thermometer not sanctioned by the weather wizards said we surpassed that mark when theirs said it was 98. Right, or wrong, the few degrees difference doesn't mean anything. It's supposed to be the same today, and tomorrow, but a front is supposed to lower the temperature a few degrees and lower the humidity. That will be good. Currently, with the high humidity, it's 81 degrees outside, and I doubt it goes down any further. A low 70's morning, with dry air, will be a pleasant relief.

I have to add that a complex of thunderstorms moved through Louisiana overnight, dissipated, and the clouds continued into our area. This lowered the high temperature to the mid nineties, which the searing sun, is a welcome relief, except for the high humidity. This cloud cover should allow a pretty moonrise a little after sunset. I'll make me some coffee, sit on the porch, and enjoy the view.

Looking At My Arms

As I was drinking coffee, I looked at my arms, noticed the scars, and thought about the ones I remember. There are many, and some came from interesting events.

Under my left arm, right below my wrist, is where I nicked my arm with a chainsaw blade I was changing. It was during a hard time in my life. I had been laid off, found another job, was trying to get ahead of my mortgage foreclosing, and had to work every hour I could. It was Winter, I was working on a rail crossing in a refinery, and to add insult to injury, I had the flu. I was miserable, but after it was all over, I kept my house, and made it through the hard time. The cut became infected, and some red streaks appeared around the wound. Not wanting to panic, I decided to wait until the next morning to go to a doctor I had no money for. The red streaks were gone that morning, the redness was receding, and the wound healed. 

On my right arm is a scar from catching it on a barbed wire fence. It was an ugly gash, but healed without problems. I probably could have used some stitches, but didn't go to a doctor. 

On my left middle finger is a scar from when I slipped, while placing some tin on a roof, and peeled the skin on the the top of my finger to the first joint. I went to a small hospital near, the doctor soaked it in betadine for a few minutes, then put a pressure bandage on the finger. It eventually healed, and a slight bump on that finger brought pain for over a year. 

On my left arm are five scars from a day at the beach. I was with in-laws, some people were walking their dogs on a leash, and they became too close. One of the large dogs, which was a big, friendly hound mix, lunged at the leash, and caught my arm with its front claws. That left some deep gashes, which didn't bleed much, but definitely hurt. 

On my right arm is my favorite scar. It was the result of a pissed off monkey that didn't want to go back to its cage. Up to that point, she was a bundle of love and sweet. When I went to return her to her cage, she bit, caught me with a canine, and ripped an L shaped gash. It didn't bleed hardly at all, but I could see tendons in the deep wound. I danced around after pouring peroxide in the wound, covered it with a gauze bandage, and let it heal without closing the wound. Animal bites can bring deep infections, and I wasn't going for stitches for that reason. As far as the monkey, it took all my strength to hold her arms, and tail, keep her head from biting, and getting her in the cage. 

I can still find a small scar from a piece of wood that stuck in my arm. I thought I had only scratched on a 2 x 4. It wasn't healing fast, and about a week later, I squeezed out a rather large piece of broken wood that remained after I brushed against the lumber.

I have a multitudes of small scars from years of using a burning torch and being burned by spattering slag. that, and the scars of three surgeries on my wrists included with the areas my doctor burned off pre-cancers. Looking back, my hands, and arms, caught the worst of it all. My aging skin shows them better, and with my now wearing long-sleeve shirts to keep out of the sun, they will remain unseen. My wounds of life will forever be unknown testaments to my experiences.

The Clear Indication

 The last Denny's has closed in San Francisco.  There's nothing I can add, the article says it all.

Improvement?

A local community, which is best described as economically disadvantaged, has used money (which was probably earmarked for the use) to build a playground in a plot of land now called a park. If it goes like it usually does, the park will have some use at the beginning, but over time, it will be a hangout for those headed for prison, and the final result will be the playground equipment either a part of a lawsuit, or stolen for scrap. I admire their effort, but reality shows the money would have been better spent on something else.  

Something I've Never Seen Before

The riding mower broke yesterday, so I had to survey the damage, and figure out what happened. This is what happened.

The top of the pulley sheared away from the body, and the belt was slung. I've never seen this before, but assume it can happen more than I would think. The thin metal, after years of wear from the belt, was worn to a point it was torn away. The bearing was good, and the pulley spun like a top.

The repair was a $50 idler pulley, more sweat than I like, and about an hour of pulling wrenches. It should have been a lesser amount of time, but the learning curve demanded more time. I live and I learn. I'll change the pulley in about two years just to make sure this doesn't happen again. Hopefully it doesn't.
 

A Little Late

I was perusing my blog, made some mental calculations, and realized I missed my blogoversary  by 5 days. I'm guessing it's best, since it's the 13th anniversary, which has been an unlucky number since Judas was the 13th guest at the Last Supper. 

For those that visited, have visited, are bots, heard about me, but really didn't have the time to visit, really don't care and are washing their car, I'm glad you came....or didn't.

How Things Don't Change

I was perusing a news site, and found an article explaining how people coped during the Great Depression. It showed how the ten things listed could help those in today's economy. It was amazing. All the things my family did while I was being raised were detailed. Of course, my grandparents, and parents, lived through that time, and the items detailed were just part of their every day life. They grew some of their own food. Mended clothes. Canned things from their garden and fruit trees. Had meals that stretched meat, such as beans and spaghetti. Didn't waste what they had. Were frugal with purchases and hunted for bargains. Otherwise, things that make sense to me, but many today wouldn't have a clue. 

I don't know about all people, but just having an article like that should alert everyone how the economy sucks. Those days should be gone forever, yet here we are - almost 100 years later - facing them again.

It Almost Makes Me Want To Laugh

 Local news can be enlightening. One report has a woman running from police, after a road-rage incident with a gun. She was eventually stopped with spike strips, and the police found meth, a pipe, and a loaded .22, which she earlier pointed at another driver, which led to the chase. 

In another unrelated story, another women, after being stopped for questioning about a fraud complaint, took off in her car, led police on a long chase, and was stopped with spike strips. Since two states were involved with her criminal activities, she will probably have some explaining to multiple judge. 

Meanwhile, the city where I was raised is having a problem picking up the trash the citizens pay dearly to have done. From the photos, it's not the household trash, but the old appliances, furniture, big items, and other things that rats love to nest inside. Efforts to contact those in charge by the local media are ignored. 

They finally caught the wienie-wagger that was seen at the local university. His picture is shown for all to see and remember. They showed his face. I wonder if they made him drop his pants for a line-up.

The usual number of car wrecks are noted. Usually, the article states witnesses reported the driver driving too fast, or recklessly. I've worked on highways. The number of really bad drivers would make most people want to stay home, and I'm a little surprised about the low number of serious car wrecks.

Too many restaurants giving up is a clear indication the rosy reports of the economy are crap. That, and from my experience of buying a $4 dollar meal for $20 at Sonic, more will follow. 

There's plenty of other interesting reports, but I have a feeling I could look at the local news for just about anywhere in the United States and find similar stories. Maybe it's a sign of the times. I hope in a few years I can look back and laugh.

Finally, We Have a Break

It rained over the last week. It wasn't torrential, but every day was around an inch of rain, and the final tally was over five inches. The ground is saturated, and puddles are standing where I've never seen puddles last more than a few hours. We did manage to cut some grass in the high spots, but the rest will need days of drying. 

The humidity will be high for the next few days. That, and the mosquitoes are already finding enough stagnating water to breed prolifically. Evenings outside will be on the "no" list, and mornings will require the sun to burn off the dew before venturing out in the yard. Unlike last Summer, where the pond dropped five feet, this year has had plenty of rain in July, which is normally a dry month. How August pans out is to be seen, but I have a feeling the first cold front will be welcome; especially if it brings some cool, dry, windy days to dry everything. 

That Will Surely Help Their Cause

From what I've read, there was some type of show at the Olympics where drag queens recreated the last supper. I've also read the reception of this act isn't good, which I understand.

 Regardless of what a few hundred drag queens think, they're freaks at a freak show, insulting the faith of millions is guaranteed to demand accountability, and being public with behavior many find should only be  shown to willing adults is going to put a target on them. They've crossed the line, and I have no sympathy for those who become victims of the reaction. In fact, seeing them chased down the street in their high heels by a mob with pitch and feathers would be fine entertainment. Let the games begin.