Res Ipsa Loquitur

Happy Girl

My doctor let me come home this morning so I am a happy girl. Thanks so much to everyone for all your good thoughts & well-wishes! The surgery went very well, and the nerve pain in my leg is (so far) completely gone.

They doped me up pretty good for the ride home, so I'm going to go sit down in front of the tv for a while.

But oh Toto, we're home, we're really home!

Now maybe I can get some sleep.

Whacking Day

Vegas was great, and today's my back surgery. As WildChild says, you say Whee! and I say Woo-Hoo!

I'm not too worried, that's Mike's job, and I just want to get it over with. We met a very nice couple in Vegas, the gentleman was from New Jersey (thought of you Jim!). He had had similar surgery several years ago, and said it was well worth it. I felt much better about it after talking with him.

My hospital stay will be from 1-3 days, depending on 'how tough I am' said the neurosurgeon. I plan to be home tomorrow, assuming everything goes well. Not that I'm particularly tough, but I've always figured I can hurt just as well at home. And there'll be no one waking me up in the middle of the night to give me something to make me sleep.

Wish me luck, and I'll see y'all in a few.

Viva Vacation!

We're heading to Vegas this afternoon, on what was planned as a get-away-from-everyone break.

Um, no.

After we'd booked everything, we found out my son, DIL & the new granddaughter are going to be in Vegas this weekend too. And since they were going to be there, my daughter decided to drive up from Phoenix for a couple of days.

So much for getting away.

But that's ok. A 'celebrate Mike & the DIL's birthday and play with the new baby' vacation is cool too.

Me, I'm planning to camp out by the pool.

Oh cabana boy!

Early Vote Turnout

Early voting turnout is higher in some Arkansas counties.

In Benton County, the county clerk's office reported that nearly 16-hundred have cast their votes early for next Tuesday's primary, compared to one-thousand, 183 voters in the 2004 elections. But in Faulkner County only 875 had chosen to vote early, lower than two years ago. Craighead and Crittenden counties also reported lower than normal numbers, which were attributed mostly to a lack of interest.

We were part of the 1600 last Saturday. Even got to try out the new-fangled electronic voting machines. They were much easier than trying to color the little dot on a paper ballot, and had a couple of double-checks to make sure your vote was cast correctly. Pretty neat. And since we went on Saturday morning, no line, no waiting.

So remember what I always say:

Vote early & vote often.

Er, I mean:

If you don't vote, don't complain.

Neat-O!

Neatorama has tons of excerpts from blogs that participated in the Four Neat Things About My Hometown meme. There's even an excerpt from little ol' me.

Even nicer, they've got an expanded version of my Res Ipsa tagline:

"Res ipsa loquitur, sed quid in infernos dicet?" (The thing speaks for itself, but what the hell is it saying?")

I like theirs better. Hehee.

Brain Pain

I have a pounding headache, which I at first thought might be from Matt's site re-design. But then I realized I'd been in a doctor's office most of the afternoon with no caffeine. Seriously Matt, it looks great.

Stupid doctors. Every one of them insisted on seeing me before my surgery on the 26th. This one today was trying to schedule a bunch of tests. Unfortunately for her, we're going on vacation Saturday & won't be back until right before the surgery. So ha! She could only schedule some blood work in the morning.

I told Mike the other day if I didn't know better, I'd think they were all trying to squeeze in one more office visit in case I croaked during the surgery or something.

Anyway, I wasted most of the afternoon but there was one piece of good news out of it all.

I AM NOT DIABETIC. My blood sugar problem was caused by the prednisone, and is clearing up on its own.

Can I get a woo-hoo?

Welcome To My Nightmare

I don't usually read this particular Little Rock pundit, but this morning's headline caught my eye:

McCain-Huckabee vs. Hillary-Clark?

That's like asking which shit sandwich you'd prefer, a single or a double.

How about neither, thanks.

Today's Deal

At the Rogers Barnes & Nobles, this book $6.98. Hardcover.

Let the stampede begin.

Better Be Nice To Me. Very Nice.

Found at Jim's:

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

He Didn't Just Say That

Apparently he did.

“If I were to say some of it is driven by just sheer racism, I think I would be telling you the truth,” Huckabee said as he shared sandwiches and salad with close to 20 national and regional political reporters.

“I’m not saying everybody who is very, very angry [about immigration ] is a racist. I want to be very clear about that. But I’ve had conversations with people, and it became evident what they really didn’t like is that people didn’t look like them, didn’t talk like them and didn’t celebrate the holidays they do, and they just had a problem with it.”

If disliking those who break the law makes me racist, then yep. I'm a hardcore racist. Frankly I don't care if an illegal immigrant is pea purple polka-dotted. They are breaking the law. I have sworn an oath, two of them in fact, to uphold the Constitution, the laws of the United States, and the laws of the states of Arkansas and Oklahoma.

Apparently that means more to me than it does to our Rev. Gov.

And this man is thinking about running for the presidency?

He said he knows that fundraising will become paramount if he decides to run. He said he had a plan for that.

“I’ve got a map of 7-11 s, a bunch of blue-steel revolvers and ski masks. We’re going to go all over the country and raise money in a very unique way.”

What a sense of humor. Ha. Ha.

Just what we need in the White House. [/sarcasm]

Random Crabbiness

--Just a thought, but if you really want to thank me for my insurance business, don't call me during dinner time. On my cell phone. And you're not fooling anybody with the 'we want to meet with you and discuss how we can better serve you' line. I know what that means. Either you're going to raise our rates or try to sell us more insurance, probably both.

--Some drywallers were working on the perpetually-under-construction house down the street Sunday afternoon. I think they had their radio cranked up to 11, because their music was too loud even in our backyard. And it was all show tunes.....which led me to wonder what kind of discounted rate the Friends of Dorothy Drywall Co. charges?

--As for the President's speech on immigration last night, meh. Talk is cheap. Call me when y'all really do something about it. End catch-and-release? That'd be great if it really happens. I'm not holding my breath.

--Speaking of immigration, I'm really sick of hearing 'jobs Americans won't do'. It should be 'jobs Americans won't do at that pay rate'. What they're really saying is let's keep letting illegals get underpaid for hazardous jobs with no benefits....so we can continue to enjoy cheap chicken.

--Speaking of which, didja know the current pay rate for entry-level IT jobs around here is $10-12 per hour? And for entry-level chicken catchers it's $9.50 per hour? Frankly I'd rather catch chickens any day of the week than work at a call center. Same amount of squawking, but with chickens you don't have to answer them. Just throw 'em on the truck.

Too bad they won't do the same with all the illegals.

Happy Mother's Day!

Mike bought me a 3 gallon jug of weed killer.

Does this guy know me or what?

My Familiar

The other morning Smokey was, as usual, lying on the table between me & my laptop. He was purring contently as I absentmindedly scritched his neck and ears while I surfed the web. Mike commented that Smokey was definitely my cat, and asked jokingly "Is he your familiar?"

"Yep," I replied. "In fact I'm getting my orders from Satan even as we speak."

"Really? What's he saying?"

"He's saying PET THE KITTY! PET THE KITTY!"

A few minutes later I started giggling because Mike had started scritching Smokey's ears too. Mike finally noticed what he was doing and said "Wow. Guess I can hear him too."

Cats are evil I tell you.

C-C-C-Changes

I took WildChild down to spend the week with my parents & my sister on Monday, noticed there's been a few changes in the old hometown. One of the first things I noticed was the start of a new section of highway that will eventually bypass the crooked road down Still's Spring hill. (I don't remember if it's called that because someone named Still used to own the spring, there used to be a still at the spring, or both. Given that it's one of my relatives, prolly both.) Anyway, the new road will go straight out from the city limits, through where an old barn used to sit, across a big pasture and down a holler to rejoin the old highway at the edge of another big hayfield. Since the old barn used to be a popular parking spot back in the day, I'll have to giggle everytime I go through there. Or at least smile in remembrance.

The other big chance I saw was the installation of road signs on all the back country roads. All the county roads now have official names, so that emergency crews and law enforcement can better respond to calls. Some of the names tickle me, like my parents' official address is now Ragland Ridge Road. So far my mother has refused to use it, as the Raglands are her in-laws and she doesn't like them. Which cracks me up.

But the name makes sense, because most of the people who live on that road are, as you might imagine, named Ragland. One of the names I saw on the way has me bumfuzzled though. "Flid Hill Road". WTH is a Flid? The only name I've ever heard associated with that particular road is Uncle Lloyd's hill....because my Uncle Lloyd lives at the top. I haven't found out yet why it was named 'Flid'. I'm sure there's a story behind it.

Some things there, however, haven't changed. Like if you stand around on the town square for more than 5 minutes, you'll encounter about half or more of the people you know. I stopped by to pay our property taxes, since after last year's confusion I'm a little paranoid. Before I could leave the town square, I'd seen & talked to my sister and one of my first cousins, and waved to about a billion other people I knew as they drove by. I even saw a lawyer I vaguely know from Fayetteville.

And the clerk in the tax collector's office recognized me, even though I hadn't seen her in about 10-15 yrs.

Some things never change.....and that's a good thing.

What a Stud

If by 'stud' you mean 'fat useless f*ck'.

My favorite part of the video though, is when that poor ignorant schlub tries to carry the recently fired machine gun by the barrel.

What a bunch of dorks.

Posthumous Pardons For Dissenters

Montana has issued posthumous pardons for about 80 people who had been imprisoned for criticisms of WWI. They had been convicted for such things as:

Keith Sime, whose uncle Herman Bausch was a pacifist who refused to buy war bonds and spent 28 months in prison for being outspoken about it, said it was important for the state to finally recognize the injustice.

Liquor salesman Ben Kahn spent 34 months in prison. "This is a rich man's war, and we have no business in it," he told a hotel owner. "The poor man has no show in this war. The soldiers are fighting the battles of the rich."

Why?

Under Montana's sedition law, it was illegal to make "any disloyal, profane, violent, scurrilous, contemptuous, slurring or abusive" comment about the U.S. Constitution, the federal government, soldiers or sailors, the flag or the uniforms of the Army or Navy.

Not that Montana was doing anything unusual. Their law appears to follow the language of the Sedition Act of 1918.

Now that was real suppression of dissent, my Hollyweird friends.

Oh, who the president who pushed the Sedition Act through Congress you ask?

Woodrow Wilson of course.

Democrat.

Don't Bogart That Joint

Guess you won't be needing that crack pipe on your trip to Mexico after all.

Mexican President Vicente Fox refused to sign a drug decriminalization bill Wednesday, hours after U.S. officials warned the plan could encourage "drug tourism."

Fox sent the measure back to Congress for changes, but his office did not mention the U.S. criticism.

Well crap. There goes our get-rich-quick scheme to make millions selling them the backhoes they were going to need to bury all the bodies.

Helpful Sites

Are you wondering just where your tax refund is or when you'll get it? Wonder no longer. Go to Where's My Refund?, enter the requested information from your tax return and the IRS will tell you whether it received your tax return and when to expect your refund.

Arkansas has an automated system you can call to get similar info about your state refund. Or you can check online here.

Pretty nifty.

Possum Redux

As I took the dogs out before daylight as usual this morning, I noticed Sassy take off after something. Since she didn't bark, I figured it was one of the many cats that roam the neighborhood. She was snuffling around in the leaves by the neighbor's fence when all at once she let out this loud, half yelp, half really pissed off bark.

Crap, I thought. She's been bitten by something. And she proceeded to fiercely attack whatever it is. So I hustled Sollie back into the house and grabbed the flashlight....and on my way out the door, the stout walking stick the previous owners had left outside the door since I wasn't sure whether it was a snake or varmint she had down.

The fight was over by the time I hobbled over to her, but she kept lunging at something then jerking back. Great, I thought. It's probably a big copperhead. Cautiously I moved the flashlight around until I can see what it is.

It's a big ol' possum, bleeding profusely from the head and not moving. But wait, what's that moving on its side?

Aw, shit. It's a baby possum, about 3 or 4 inches long. Which Sassy apparently thinks is some kind of special fuzzy Scooby Snack, because she's trying to eat it. But the little guy is valiantly trying to bite her with his barely-visible teeth, so she kept dropping him.

Now I'm not much of a possum fan, but you gotta admire that kind of grit. So I made Sassy stand back while I tried to figure out just what the hell I'm going to do with a baby possum at 5:30 in the morning. Finally, I noticed Mama possum's legs are twitching, so, hoping for the best, I brought Sassy back inside. After giving her treats for being a Very Good Dog and washing the blood off her legs (the possum's not hers), I decided to wait until daylight to see if Mama recovered.

After the sun rose, I checked out the window and Mama possum has disappeared. So I put Sassy back on her run, and took Sollie back out so he can finish his business. All is quiet, Mike left for work, and I started fixing my breakfast. Just about the time my eggs were about done, for some reason I looked out the window to check on Sassy.

She has something down in the leaves again. Crap. It's a baby possum. I turned my eggs off, got some leather gloves and went to see if it's too late to rescue the little guy. He seemed to be relatively unharmed, so I brought him inside & put him in the cat carrier....figuring if I can't find Mama, he'll be safe there until I can call Animal Control. (btw, talk about something that's so ugly it's cute. Not my photo, but this one was about that size)

I couldn't see any sign of Mama outside, but Sassy kept trying to go into the garage. Great. Just what I needed, a dead possum in the garage. Once again, I donned leather gloves, and with flashlight and stick in hand, I searched the garage. No sign of Mama possum. Hmmm. I put Sassy on leash, and we headed back into the garage. There's a possum in there somewhere, Sassy kept insisting. And after a few minutes, Sassy excitedly poked her nose under an old piece of carpet. Immediately there's a loud snarl and hiss.

Aha! I brought Sassy back inside, put on leather gloves again and took the little one into the garage. After peeping to make sure it was Mama possum and not one of the neighborhood cats, Mama and baby were reunited.

Not exactly a Disney moment, mind you. Mama was pretty riled up. I didn't want to get my arm half chewed off, so I gently tossed baby under the carpet on top of her....with her snarling and snapping at me. Baby squeaked a few times after he landed on her, and she quietened down so I quickly left.

Now I still have to call Animal Control so they can (hopefully) remove Mama and baby or babies from my garage and take them to a more suitable location. Like way, way out in the country.

I've had enough of possum wrangling.

UPDATE: The very nice Animal Control officer suggested the best course of action for now was to leave Mama and babies alone. He said he could catch Mama, but the babies would likely die if he did. Since I don't want dead, rotting baby possums scattered all over our garage, he suggested I leave the garage door open and only put the dogs out during daylight hours until Mama decides to leave for good. He implied that it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing if Sassy did kill them all, but I don't want her eating possums because of the parasites she could get.

So, looks like I've been adopted by a possum family. Temporarily I hope.

And I have to add a big Thanks! to the Bentonville Animal Control for responding to my call so quickly. The officer was very nice, polite and professional as well. A pleasant surprise, since I'd called Fayetteville's Animal Control several times over the years we lived there, and they never once responded. At all. This officer arrived not more than 10 minutes after I called.

Nice to see our tax dollars are being well-spent here.

Back In Town

Who is? Mike is, for one. He's been in Central America for the last 2 weeks on a business trip. 3 flights total and no lost luggage. That has to be some kind of record.

Speaking of back, I'm having back surgery on the 26th....and in order to maximize the inconvenience for everyone but ourselves, it'll be at St. Mary's, where my daughter used to work. My new neurosurgeon, who appears to be both competent and not an asshole, estimates I'll be in hospital 1-3 days. Depending on how tough I am, he said. I've got news for you, I told him. I hate staying in hospitals, and I'll be bugging you to let me go home as soon as I wake up. He laughed, and said I'd have to be able to walk around unassisted first.

He's going to be putting in some kind of metal contraption, looked kinda like a rebar and baling wire frame, to correct the spacing between two vertebrae. This should move the bone spur that's pressing directly on a nerve and relieve most, if not all, of my pain. And set off any metal detectors I may encounter.

In the meantime, I've a huge back brace to wear, so that I can become accustomed to it. I apparently will be wearing it for quite some time post-op. It looks much like some type of medieval corset torture device, but is actually pretty comfortable.

Anyway, there's a light at the end of the tunnel now. I don't think it's an on-coming train.

I don't even want to talk about why it's taking over a year to find someone who could see what was wrong AND was eager to fix it.

Let's don't even go there.