Ya gotta love it

A few days ago, I learned about a fella I know that was robbed. In the daylight. At gunpoint. With his wife by his side. In his own home. And to beat that, it all happened in a little town of maybe 10,000 people. Okay maybe a few more, I don't know. It was apparent that the assailant knew the victims, because he called them by name and told them that if they just "stayed put", he wouldn't hurt them. He kept his handgun trained on them for a full 20 minutes and talked casually to them before robbing them of a bunch of cash and valuables that they kept not-so-well hidden in their home. He told them he wanted 15 minutes (prolly to get to his getaway car parked on Rich Lane) before they called the police and they waited 10. He is still at large. 

Ya gotta love it. This is almost pretty funny, because not a mile away, there is a "black and white" parked regularly in a hidden spot on the main road diligently trying to catch the notorious speeders of Blackfoot. In fact a week earlier, I was pulled over and warned to slow down for going 39 mph in a 35 mph zone. Jeez, REALLY? Okay, okay....I know...you're right...39 mph WAS still speeding. But, my point is this. John Law was johnny-on-the-spot to apprehend this dangerous threat, but where was he when these other folks reported their theft in such a short time? Hmmmm? I know, the speeders on Rich Lane are an out-of-control bunch. Dangerous criminals. I'll bet you that thief didn't even speed as he drove past that cop and his trusty radar gun. Priorities being what they are and all, I hope the po-leece-man got his quota that day. 

*giggle*

Rainy day

It doesn't rain all that much here, but boy it came down the other day.  Pretty cool sky came with the rain.

I'm so happy

I know what you're going to think about this, but here it is anyway.  I've been a Chicigo Bears fan, year in and year out, since I lived in Chicago in the early 80s.  I follow them when they're up, and I follow them when they're down.  In fact, the Bears are really the only professional sports team I follow.  My only dissappointment is that the local TV stations don't broadcast the Bears very often.

And, I follow the Boise State Broncos.  I'm not a sports fanatic, but I'm pretty fanatical about these two teams.

So now, Da Bears have drafted BSU player Shea McClellin.  I'm thrilled.  Now when I do get to see the Bears play, I'll get to follow McClellin.  Maybe this will also persuade the local broadcasters to show more Bears games.  Maybe, yes, this is stretch, but maybe more Boiseans will start to follow the Bears.

Hooah.  I couldn't be happier.

Oh, and his number will be 99, same as the famous outstanding defender Dan "Danimal" Hampton.  Perfect.

I stand corrected

The other day I went to get my pickup sniffed.  You know, emission tested.  The requirement was just imposed on me last year, and at the time my truck wasn't really running.  I had the heater core out, and replacing that, and associated problems, meant it wasn't drivable for months.  And that's when the notice arrived.

And the the second notice arrived, and yet I was still hopeful that I'd get the truck running.  Any day.  So I didn't mail back the card with the "not running" block checked.  Because, any day now.  Well, after weeks passed and maybe a couple of months, and I finally got it running, I had forgotten about the sniff test.  In the mean time, Ada County revoked my registration.  I don't recall that they told me they had done it, thought I'd been warned that they would do it if I didn't get sniffed.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that I still needed the sniff test, and knew that my registration was probably suspended or whatever they do, but I figured once I got the notice of renewal, I'd got take care of everything.  Good plan, until a cop stopped me for expired plates.  See, once they cancel your registration, they don't send out a renewal notice.  Nothing to renew, I guess.

So I was kind of pissed off about the whole situation when I finally went for the sniff test.  I pulled in, and the dude, after a minute, came out of  his little hooch, and looked in my window and said, "I think we're going to have a problem."  Turns out that the idle speed must be less than 1250 rpm.  He hooked up his tester, and I was idling at 1325.

Gong! Done.  He wouldn't test it.  So I said, that's an easy fix, and he said "You can't fix it here."  Very abruptly.  So now I was ever more annoyed.  So I just started to drive away, and as the door to his hooch shut I hear him say "See you in a little while."  I said "No, you won't."  Being pissed and all.

Plus, I tend toward judgmental, and I adjudged him as an ass.  Figured I'd pull over somewhere, make the minor adjustment, and find another sniff station.  When I looked under the hood, it wasn't quite a clear as I thought, so I decided to wait and check my repair manual.  I did, made the adjustment, got the idle into the right range, and was ready to try again, a couple of days later.

Trouble was, the annoying dude is the closest sniff station, by far, and I wasn't sure where to go, other than quite a ways away.  So, dammit, back to the annoying dude.  I hopped into my truck (What do you say to a one legged hitchhiker?  Hop in.) and Buck, my cocker spaniel also hopped in, and off we went.

I pulled up, prepared to be annoyed by the annoying dude.  The hooch door opened, he looked in the truck (my window was down so's we could talk) and he spotted Buck, and he immediately started cooing over the damn dog.  Wanted to pet him, and baby talked to him, and all that.  Performed the sniff test, chatted me up about how to reinstate my registration, and off I went.

So I had adjudged him as an ass, and he wasn't, but I was still a judgmental ass, so, lesson learned, take your dog with you. 

Stuff

I have some thoughts this morning about 'stuff'. You know the stuff I'm talking about. Stuff like spoons and towels and flashlights and can openers. That kind of stuff. We've been working on trying to put two households into the space of one for several weeks now. This project has it's unique challenges which I'll go into later, but somewhere along the road (over the past few years) my own stuff has accumulated it's OWN stuff! And that makes me crazy and frankly make me feel a bit enslaved. It even makes it hard to breathe! 'Not sure how it all happened, or when, but it definitely has happened. My big crock-pot now has 2 smaller ones; my wooden spoons have multiplied from two to six; the number of junky rubbermaid things with lids snap-ware has doubled; I even found 7 new tubes of mascara when I went to put my 'stuff' in my bathroom drawers. Wow. Ridiculous.

Okay, so one challenge with trying to merge our things is that not only do I have a lot of stuff, some of which is nice stuff, but my honeypie has a bunch of stuff too. We considered giving stuff away as parting gifts at our wedding open house to get rid of it. But, no. That's tacky. So this has got to happen, it's inevitable. We have to find a way to put it together and take our lives back from our stuff. I mean how many snappy containers and whisks do two people need? In trying to decide what to keep and what to toss, we thought we could lay it all out in the backyard and just go "shopping". We'll just pick out the things we like (and have room for) from what we have and say bubbye to the rest of it. Adios. Ciao. Sayonara. Sounds good, no? 

Stuff is important. Even Tom Hanks had Wilson....but, what happens next with our extra stuff is still up in the air. I doubt if it will end up on some exotic beach, but maaaaybeeee. I just want it gone. And soon.

We'll probably start with the kitchen. Keep your fingers crossed for us. 

Wilson found

Remember "Wilson," Tom Hank's only friend during his castaway years?  You know, the Wilson soccerball?  Well, he turned up in Alaska.

http://newsfeed.time.com/2012/04/24/soccer-ball-lost-in-japan-tsunami-surfaces-in-alaska/

Not really, but it's a fun idea.  And the real story linked to above it pretty cool, too.

Howdy

Inaugural post in our new blog.  More stuff to follow, once we get things set up.