So, I called the HVAC people this afternoon to schedule annual maintenance on the AC.
No dice.
It's been so hot, and they're so busy doing repair calls, that they aren't even scheduling regular maintenance! They put me on the waiting list -- to be scheduled. I said I hope to hear from them before September. The nice HVAC lady didn't laugh.
That darn nutria!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Army Birthday and Flag Day 2011
A very important day in the U.S.A.! Sa-lute!
This yummy cake was served at the Grand Opening of the new Commissary at Belle Chasse NAS/JRB in March. I've been saving this picture just for this day! Hooah!
(Plus, the Brass finally came to its collective senses, listened to enlisted and non-coms, and did away with that cumbersome beret for everyday ACU. Back to the field cap at last! The beret is all right for dress uniforms, but it's kinda silly and a pain in the neck for ACUs. I just wish they'd done it 9 years ago so that Pepper wouldn't have had to spend all that time shaping and shaving the silly things. But, I'm still not sure why the term switched from "Battle Dress Uniform" to "Army Combat Uniform." I guess hopey-change-for-change's-sake has been going on longer than we suspected.)
(Plus, the Brass finally came to its collective senses, listened to enlisted and non-coms, and did away with that cumbersome beret for everyday ACU. Back to the field cap at last! The beret is all right for dress uniforms, but it's kinda silly and a pain in the neck for ACUs. I just wish they'd done it 9 years ago so that Pepper wouldn't have had to spend all that time shaping and shaving the silly things. But, I'm still not sure why the term switched from "Battle Dress Uniform" to "Army Combat Uniform." I guess hopey-change-for-change's-sake has been going on longer than we suspected.)
Monday, June 13, 2011
My Family, the Dog Lovers
Elder daughter has become a woman on a mission.
Since she took a teaching job in North Little Rock she's been a much happier person, overall. But now I think the "nurturing" -- and keeping up with 9th and 10th graders -- part of being a teacher has spilled over into her personal life.
Before school was out for the summer last week, she noticed two black lab pups on the loose in her neighborhood. She didn't know where they lived, but she fretted about them being out on the streets in the heat, so she left a bowl of water on her front porch before she left for school, vowing to find their home if they were still around when she got home.
They didn't reappear for several days, so she relaxed a little about their welfare. Until yesterday evening.
Then, there they were, back on her front porch.
She knew they were someone's pets because they would sit on command and were fairly well-behaved, but they didn't wear collars and you can't call a Vet on Sunday to check whether they are chipped, so she did the logical nurturer thing -- she took in two four-month-old Labrador puppies.
Bear in mind that she and SIL#1 have two dogs of their own (an "active" young boxer and a chiweenie -- chihuahua-dachshund mix -- a rather bossy little thing who enjoys the sound of her own voice), plus they are keeping Younger Daughter/SIL#2's very needy lab-golden retriever mix during YD/SIL#2's Honeymoon.
They do not live on a farm with lots of acreage.
It was apparently a wild and crazy scene at Elder Daughter's house last night. All night.
She left her bedroom window cracked so she could sort of keep tabs on them during the night, having bedded them down on the deck outside the window at an ungodly hour. They are apparently part night-owl because there was not a lot of puppy-napping going on. A lot of puppy playing, yes, puppy napping, no. SIL#1, needing to sleep a little so he could be functional at work today, decided to shift to the guest room so as to be sheltered from puppy noise. And, I doubt he was very happy about that. But it was probably the right move on his part.
Elder Daughter awoke from a restless sleep around five in the morning to spy through the window their very heavy barbecue grill slowly moving across the deck in fits and starts. Yep. The puppies were having a tug-of-war with the grill cover, and the grill was losing.
Then they were hungry.
After gulping down enough coffee to keep her conscious, Elder Daughter went to work on finding the pups' home. Sherlock Holmes would have been proud.
Long story shorter, a nearby neighbor told her that the pups belonged to his next-door neighbor, a college student who often threw raucous college-student parties, and whose lease had therefore been non-renewed. He put Elder Daughter in touch with College Boy's landlord, who in turn gave her College Boy's name and phone number.
It seems that College Boy had gone out of town on a little vacay, leaving two bored, 4-month-old lab puppies who like to dig, unattended, outdoors. College Boy's grandmother was allegedly coming by to feed them.
A rather terse text-messaging session ensued, followed by a call from College Boy's mother.
College Boy's mother came to Elder Daughter's house to pick up the pups, driving a Lexus (Elder Daughter fixated on the Lexus part, expecting instead to see something like the Beverly Hillbillies' truck roll up in front of the house. She still can't believe that CB would allow his Lexus-driving mother, not to mention his grandmother, see the appalling state of his house and yard.). Elder Daughter recommended that CBM board the pups until the prodigal son returned to take up the responsibility for those precious little souls he had assumed. CBM assured Elder Daughter that she was going to do precisely that.
Elder Daughter called me as CBM was pulling away with the precious cargo, and noticed that the car had stopped. She was livid, fearing that CBM had simply slipped the pups back into the yard. So, she did the logical nurturer thing -- she stormed over to CB's fence and started calling the pups, ready to sic the authorities on the CB family if need be, giving me the play-by-play every step of the way.
Fortunately for the CB family, the pups were not in the yard.
Now Elder Daughter worries what will become of the pups when CB has to find new digs and she's not around to look after them.
I doubt it will be a problem. And, I suspect that CB should just bend over and accept the fact the Elder Daughter is likely to be stalking him henceforth, in full-blown puppy-lover mode.
At least until school starts in the fall.
I wonder where she gets it?
Since she took a teaching job in North Little Rock she's been a much happier person, overall. But now I think the "nurturing" -- and keeping up with 9th and 10th graders -- part of being a teacher has spilled over into her personal life.
Before school was out for the summer last week, she noticed two black lab pups on the loose in her neighborhood. She didn't know where they lived, but she fretted about them being out on the streets in the heat, so she left a bowl of water on her front porch before she left for school, vowing to find their home if they were still around when she got home.
They didn't reappear for several days, so she relaxed a little about their welfare. Until yesterday evening.
Then, there they were, back on her front porch.
Bear in mind that she and SIL#1 have two dogs of their own (an "active" young boxer and a chiweenie -- chihuahua-dachshund mix -- a rather bossy little thing who enjoys the sound of her own voice), plus they are keeping Younger Daughter/SIL#2's very needy lab-golden retriever mix during YD/SIL#2's Honeymoon.
They do not live on a farm with lots of acreage.
It was apparently a wild and crazy scene at Elder Daughter's house last night. All night.
She left her bedroom window cracked so she could sort of keep tabs on them during the night, having bedded them down on the deck outside the window at an ungodly hour. They are apparently part night-owl because there was not a lot of puppy-napping going on. A lot of puppy playing, yes, puppy napping, no. SIL#1, needing to sleep a little so he could be functional at work today, decided to shift to the guest room so as to be sheltered from puppy noise. And, I doubt he was very happy about that. But it was probably the right move on his part.
Elder Daughter awoke from a restless sleep around five in the morning to spy through the window their very heavy barbecue grill slowly moving across the deck in fits and starts. Yep. The puppies were having a tug-of-war with the grill cover, and the grill was losing.
Then they were hungry.
After gulping down enough coffee to keep her conscious, Elder Daughter went to work on finding the pups' home. Sherlock Holmes would have been proud.
Long story shorter, a nearby neighbor told her that the pups belonged to his next-door neighbor, a college student who often threw raucous college-student parties, and whose lease had therefore been non-renewed. He put Elder Daughter in touch with College Boy's landlord, who in turn gave her College Boy's name and phone number.
It seems that College Boy had gone out of town on a little vacay, leaving two bored, 4-month-old lab puppies who like to dig, unattended, outdoors. College Boy's grandmother was allegedly coming by to feed them.
A rather terse text-messaging session ensued, followed by a call from College Boy's mother.
College Boy's mother came to Elder Daughter's house to pick up the pups, driving a Lexus (Elder Daughter fixated on the Lexus part, expecting instead to see something like the Beverly Hillbillies' truck roll up in front of the house. She still can't believe that CB would allow his Lexus-driving mother, not to mention his grandmother, see the appalling state of his house and yard.). Elder Daughter recommended that CBM board the pups until the prodigal son returned to take up the responsibility for those precious little souls he had assumed. CBM assured Elder Daughter that she was going to do precisely that.
Elder Daughter called me as CBM was pulling away with the precious cargo, and noticed that the car had stopped. She was livid, fearing that CBM had simply slipped the pups back into the yard. So, she did the logical nurturer thing -- she stormed over to CB's fence and started calling the pups, ready to sic the authorities on the CB family if need be, giving me the play-by-play every step of the way.
Fortunately for the CB family, the pups were not in the yard.
Now Elder Daughter worries what will become of the pups when CB has to find new digs and she's not around to look after them.
I doubt it will be a problem. And, I suspect that CB should just bend over and accept the fact the Elder Daughter is likely to be stalking him henceforth, in full-blown puppy-lover mode.
At least until school starts in the fall.
I wonder where she gets it?
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Of Weiners, Funeral Mobsters, and Post-Nuptial Existentialism
I've had nearly a week to recover from all the wedding festivities (not the least of which was the 99 degree heat for the mostly-outdoor reception!). I spent most of this morning catching up with my regular blog-rounds, so now I suppose I should leap back into posting.
I'm not quite ready to do the wedding post yet, though -- I'm experiencing a little "wedding-planning void." This is the first time since February of 2009 that I haven't had wedding planning somewhere near the surface of my mind, and it's kind of sad. Easier on the bank account and frazzle factor, but still a little sad. Kinda like Lucy's Post-Christmas letdown in the old Peanuts cartoon strip.
So, for today, I'll play with politics a little and add a little Louisiana flavor for lagniappe.
First off, Weiner Fest. The story that won't go away (not to mention the story that has the greatest bad-joke potential in recorded human history).
Almost everything that can be said about this fiasco has been said, but in addition to pointing out that the media -- and even the dude's constituents -- seem to be focusing on the actual weiner and its varying states of dress, and not focusing on the outright, intentional LYING in which the little weasel (the actual man, not his appendage) engaged, I'd like to make note of one of the funniest statements to be broadcast over the airwaves in recent memory. And it was, I believe, unintentionally (albeit, potentially Freudianly) funny.
Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, when asked why she wasn't calling for Weiner's resignation, stated, "I believe that it's up to the individual member" to make that decision.
That was, in my view, a most unfortunate time to refer to a Congressman by that particular asexual, politically correct term. Mr. Weiner's member has obviously been making decisions for him for many years.
*Rimshot* Thank you. Thank you very much.
Next. Do you remember way back last August when I first told you about the Louisiana Casket Cartel that had issued a Cease and Desist Order against some Benedictine monks who were making and selling simple caskets for reasonable prices? Well, here's the update.
During the most recent session of the Legislature, the funeral industry managed to pull off a strong enough lobbying effort to prevent a repeal of the monopoly-encouraging regulations, leaving the Abbey open to thousands of dollars in fines, and its monks to potential imprisonment, for selling coffins without paying exhorbitant fees and securing a funeral director's license. As a result, the monks decided to pursue the lawsuit they had filed last August in federal court seeking a modification of the statutes governing funeral industry licensure.
The funeral regulators' defense team characterized the regulations in terms of "consumer protection," raising the gruesome specter of coffins too small for plus-size bodies, leaking decomposition fluids from an above-ground family tomb; the monks' attorneys more appropriately characterize the statutory scheme as little more than "unconstitutional economic protectionism."
A half-day hearing took place last week, the briefing schedule has been set, and we should have a ruling from U.S. District Judge Stanwood Duval by early July. Judge Duval is a Clinton appointee, and has been referred to as a "liberal judge" more than once, but he does appear to be a fairly solid constitutionalist.
Wouldn't it be nice to see the small-time entrepreneur -- and common sense -- prevail this time?
Okay, okay, you persuaded me. Just one wedding picture, taken in the Bride's Room before the ceremony.
I have the feeling that this one will make me get teary-eyed for years.
I'm not quite ready to do the wedding post yet, though -- I'm experiencing a little "wedding-planning void." This is the first time since February of 2009 that I haven't had wedding planning somewhere near the surface of my mind, and it's kind of sad. Easier on the bank account and frazzle factor, but still a little sad. Kinda like Lucy's Post-Christmas letdown in the old Peanuts cartoon strip.
So, for today, I'll play with politics a little and add a little Louisiana flavor for lagniappe.
First off, Weiner Fest. The story that won't go away (not to mention the story that has the greatest bad-joke potential in recorded human history).
Almost everything that can be said about this fiasco has been said, but in addition to pointing out that the media -- and even the dude's constituents -- seem to be focusing on the actual weiner and its varying states of dress, and not focusing on the outright, intentional LYING in which the little weasel (the actual man, not his appendage) engaged, I'd like to make note of one of the funniest statements to be broadcast over the airwaves in recent memory. And it was, I believe, unintentionally (albeit, potentially Freudianly) funny.
Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, when asked why she wasn't calling for Weiner's resignation, stated, "I believe that it's up to the individual member" to make that decision.
That was, in my view, a most unfortunate time to refer to a Congressman by that particular asexual, politically correct term. Mr. Weiner's member has obviously been making decisions for him for many years.
*Rimshot* Thank you. Thank you very much.
Next. Do you remember way back last August when I first told you about the Louisiana Casket Cartel that had issued a Cease and Desist Order against some Benedictine monks who were making and selling simple caskets for reasonable prices? Well, here's the update.
During the most recent session of the Legislature, the funeral industry managed to pull off a strong enough lobbying effort to prevent a repeal of the monopoly-encouraging regulations, leaving the Abbey open to thousands of dollars in fines, and its monks to potential imprisonment, for selling coffins without paying exhorbitant fees and securing a funeral director's license. As a result, the monks decided to pursue the lawsuit they had filed last August in federal court seeking a modification of the statutes governing funeral industry licensure.
The funeral regulators' defense team characterized the regulations in terms of "consumer protection," raising the gruesome specter of coffins too small for plus-size bodies, leaking decomposition fluids from an above-ground family tomb; the monks' attorneys more appropriately characterize the statutory scheme as little more than "unconstitutional economic protectionism."
A half-day hearing took place last week, the briefing schedule has been set, and we should have a ruling from U.S. District Judge Stanwood Duval by early July. Judge Duval is a Clinton appointee, and has been referred to as a "liberal judge" more than once, but he does appear to be a fairly solid constitutionalist.
Wouldn't it be nice to see the small-time entrepreneur -- and common sense -- prevail this time?
Okay, okay, you persuaded me. Just one wedding picture, taken in the Bride's Room before the ceremony.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Wedding Day, Minus 3 -- and Hello Hurricane Season 2011
So, I'm thinking the tire gods are as angry with me as the Blogger gods have been recently.
I got on the road later than I would have liked (because I had to wait for a UPS delivery requiring a signature -- and the delivery guy was out of treats for Bouie, who was already stressed out by all the packing and taking of Rosie to the kennel early without him. Yeah, he doesn't go until today because Pepper needed company last night. So, I had to dig up some old treats for Bouie because he was wearing his pitiful face. It was a hectic scenario at Moogie's Mansion.)
So, I got on the road later than I would've liked, but early enough to get me to Little Rock in time to get some wedding stuff done. I downed my Wendy's grilled chicken wrap and was settling down on the long I-10 bridge over the spillway when I heard a lot of racket; I couldn't figure out what it was for a bit, and initially thought the beat-up car beside me needed to have its engine looked at, when it dawned on me that I had a flat. Going 65 mph, on a bridge, I had a blowout. In a car that was loaded to the gills with wedding and reception paraphernalia.
Several hours, and USAA Roadside Assistance, later, after kind assistance from a lady state trooper (who offered to help me change the tire!), a tow to a "safe place" (because the Roadside Assistance folk don't change tires on an interstate bridge), and a hefty wait for the tire changer at the truck stop casino (because tow folks don't change tires), I was back on the road. But, by golly, after proving to myself that I could still change a tire a few months back, I had vowed not to do that again, and I remained true to my vow.
I didn't get to Little Rock until after 10:00.
It was a long day.
And all this is to say that posting will probably be sparse the next few days until we buy all the booze in central Arkansas, deliver stuff all over creation, entertain, and marry off the last child. It will be glorious!
I need a nap.
I got on the road later than I would have liked (because I had to wait for a UPS delivery requiring a signature -- and the delivery guy was out of treats for Bouie, who was already stressed out by all the packing and taking of Rosie to the kennel early without him. Yeah, he doesn't go until today because Pepper needed company last night. So, I had to dig up some old treats for Bouie because he was wearing his pitiful face. It was a hectic scenario at Moogie's Mansion.)
So, I got on the road later than I would've liked, but early enough to get me to Little Rock in time to get some wedding stuff done. I downed my Wendy's grilled chicken wrap and was settling down on the long I-10 bridge over the spillway when I heard a lot of racket; I couldn't figure out what it was for a bit, and initially thought the beat-up car beside me needed to have its engine looked at, when it dawned on me that I had a flat. Going 65 mph, on a bridge, I had a blowout. In a car that was loaded to the gills with wedding and reception paraphernalia.
Several hours, and USAA Roadside Assistance, later, after kind assistance from a lady state trooper (who offered to help me change the tire!), a tow to a "safe place" (because the Roadside Assistance folk don't change tires on an interstate bridge), and a hefty wait for the tire changer at the truck stop casino (because tow folks don't change tires), I was back on the road. But, by golly, after proving to myself that I could still change a tire a few months back, I had vowed not to do that again, and I remained true to my vow.
I didn't get to Little Rock until after 10:00.
It was a long day.
And all this is to say that posting will probably be sparse the next few days until we buy all the booze in central Arkansas, deliver stuff all over creation, entertain, and marry off the last child. It will be glorious!
I need a nap.
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