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My day in court

Tomorrow I get to spend the day in Civil Sessions Court. Just a little bit of my past coming back to haunt me. So today I thought I’d call down to find out the procedure. It went something like this:

Me: I am calling to find out what I need to bring to court tomorrow.
Them: I’m sorry sir that would be giving legal advise.
Me: Okay. How long will this take?
Them: I don’t know how many people are on the docket.
Me: How long does it normally take?
Them: Can’t say.
Me: Since I have never done this, can you explain the procedure to me?
Them: No that would be giving legal advice.
Me: You mean to tell me the process, the way your court works, is legal advice?
Them: I cannot give you legal advice. You need to consult a lawyer.
Me: I cannot afford a lawyer. Can you provide one for me?
Them: We don’t do that.
Me: Do you have a webpage that explains what I can expect in court tomorrow?
Them: I’m sorry sir. We cannot give legal advice.
Me: Feeling a little crotchety today aren’t we?
Them: *Click*

Yea! Tax dollars at work. Guess I should have gone to law school. I’ll just channel Alan Shore tomorrow and hopefully not learn what a holding cell feels like.

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For the record…

If you decide to use the cleaning feature on your oven, and there is a fish stick left in the oven, the fish stick will burst into flame. The oven door will be locked because that’s what the cleaning function does. Since the oven gets so hot during the cleaning process, it locks tight and won’t open until the inside cools even if you abort the cleaning process. So you stand by helplessly holding a useless fire extinguisher watching through the oven window as the 15 centimeter tall flame burns bigger and brighter and the over continues to report "cooling" and your mind starts calculating the cost of replacing the stove.

Lesson: Pre-clean the oven before using the cleaning feature of the oven.

English to metric conversion by OnlineConversion.com.

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Picking Parental Battles

My 15 year old daughter left the house today wearing Teva sandals (similar to the Open Toachi). They are cool looking and rugged shoes. She wore no socks. The only problem? This morning I had to scrape ice from the windshield, puddles in parking lots were frozen solid, and my long sleeve and jacket wasn’t enough. I desired a sweater in addition to my other layers to be comfortable. In short, it is cold!

I could have fought with her and demanded that she wear regular shoes or at least put on socks. However, this has natural consequences. She can learn her own lessons without being distracted by me.

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Knoxville Polar Bear Club

I have now been outside, in a bathing suit, playing in cold water for the second time in January 2009. I returned home from Knoxville’s first Geek Breakfast to find the dogs outside frolicking in the mud. Dharma looked like she was doing an impersonation of a happy pig on a hot sunny day. So I stripped down and changed into only a swimsuit and my Teva Mush flipflops. Now, Molly, a 110 pound German Shepherd, is rather obedient but still doesn’t like being soaked in cold water so I get a little bit of a back exercise from her. On top of the existing pain from my trench war, I’m left unsure that I can do anything with Dharma but when I call her she approaches obediently. I’m impressed and hopeful. I hit her with the water and it turns bad quickly. Dharma howls like a werewolf in pain. She fights and twists. Holding her by the collar just won’t work. I grab her firmly by the scruff of the neck. She howls louder and tries to wrestle free. I fear that if I let go she’ll run from the yard and disappear. The blister on my thumb from the trench wars peels off leaving painful raw skin. Dharma jumps up on the lawn chairs and I worry that she’ll break a nail or hurt a leg. I wrestle her away form the chair and she knocks it over giving her access to the glass top table on the porch. She gets two paws on it and I expect to go crashing through but manage to pull her back and regain control. She sits but howls as the postman drives up to the mailbox. He waves but I know he secretly wanted to film the hilarity. "See anything interesting on your route today Bob?" "You wouldn’t believe me if I told you." Thank goodness that snow never came!

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Flood update

The 8 gallon shop vac had sucked up 4 or 5 gallons of water. Using towels, I had dammed off most of the water and prevented serious damage to furniture and other belongings. The shop vac was doing a great job of keeping the floor dry without me standing over it so I decided I should go outside and tackle the root of the problem head on. Silly me. I should have emptied the 4 or 5 gallons of water first! I don a swimsuit, a pair of socks I don’t care about, a ratty t-shirt, and some boots I’ve been meaning to throw away that have holes big enough to stick a toe through. I remind myself that it is January and pouring rain outside but in 3 minutes it won’t matter if I was naked; I’m going to be cold.

working the trenchesStanding in the rain I seriously consider just going back inside and working the symptom instead of the problem. The problem of course is a trench that hasn’t been completed nor maintained. Water is pooling instead of flowing out and away from the house. I decide to throw myself at it and see if a little dredging will do the trick but I have to remove six inches of leaves just to get to what should have been dirt. It looks more like quicksand and I sink deep. Trudging through this mess is like walking in watery cement just ready to pour, or a runny oatmeal. The shovel moves half dirt and half water. I fling it over my head to the mound that originally was in the trench. Half of what I throw pours back down on top of me and into the trench. The walls collapse and the pool gets deeper. I realize I didn’t ask anyone inside to keep an eye on the downstairs. Yikes! The shop vac has filled up and is no longer maintaining the floods! The levees of towels have become over saturated and are failing to hold back the waters. Worse yet, there are no dry towels left! I cannot go inside to help because my repair has worsen the situation and I must finish the job. My fingers start to blister. I slip and fall in the mud. My headlamp is weak and barely lights the "ground" in front of me. To make it worse, when I exhale all I see is fog making it nearly impossible to decide where to dig. The simple goal is to make the puddles flow and drain. One end of the trench must be higher than the other.

Muddy shoesAfter 3 hours of digging, dredging, chanting, singing, and fighting the urge to give up, I am startled as I hear a splash and rush of liquid. The dam has burst and the waters are flowing out of the trench and away from the house.

The danger and problem is far from over. The shop vac cannot run all night. The ground is still supersaturated. And along I made vast improvements to the trench, it is still puddling in places and really needs a small backhoe to be completed. For nights like this, we should be allowed to buy small dosages of serious pain medicines without a prescription. Typing this entry, hurt.

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Flood!

Eons ago I began a trench around the house so that I could reseal the block wall, and install a French drain to assure no water would ever come in the basement. Well, one thing led to another and I never finished. In the Fall, the leaves come off the trees, decompose a little and clog up the moat. So, on the night the grandparents are on their way over here and I’m supposed to be cleaning the upstairs, the basement floods. This one isn’t as neat as the last one but isn’t as horrible as the first. So what I do? Blog it.

Update: I think the flood is contained. Doesn’t look like we took any permanent damage. Everyone is going to be drying off after baths with hair dryers and paper towels. I think all bath towels were commandeered for the flood.