33 Percent Justice

Perhaps I should clarify my stance on the two previous posts... Roads are designed for automobiles WITH QUALIFIED DRIVERS!

Here are three examples, just from Saturday. I shall discuss them in reverse order.

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The Titanic Idiot

On the way home, I was coming up on the long high bridge when a car rounded the curve coming toward me. A dude was standing up with his torso poking out of the sunroof! He looked to be late teens/early twenties, with a helmet of blond hair flowing in the 55+ mph breeze generated by the car. Wearing plastic sunglasses like my $5 Save A Lot version. He acted like he was on the bow of the Titanic, flying, with arms extended. When he saw me, he started waving exuberantly. 

What in the Not-Heaven??? Dude had to be standing with one foot on the passenger seat, and one foot on the driver's seat. What kind of driver lets that happen? The slightest jostle could interfere with operation of the vehicle!

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The Over-Driver

I pulled up to the light beside Dairy Queen, waiting to make my left turn to head home. The car ahead of me had driven past the wide white line painted across the left turn lane, designating where to stop and wait for the light to turn green. It's a wide intersection. I could see the traffic lights for the cross traffic. Their light turned red. I waited for Over-Driver and I to get our green light. BUT WE DIDN'T GET IT! After about a minute, the cross traffic's light turned green again, while ours stayed red.

Over-Driver was practically in the middle of the intersection. Good thing it's so wide. There was room for the cars to pass by, but people on our right, trying to turn and come down our street, had to swing way wide to get around Over-Driver. Who didn't even try to back up out of the intersection! There was at least a car length, maybe two, between Over-Driver and T-Hoe. I was sitting with T-Hoe's front tires at that white line. Finally, the sensor must have sensed T-Hoe, and gave us our green left-turn arrow.

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The Bumper-Kisser

While I was in the drive-thru line at Dairy Queen, an unnatural blond behind me had her truck so close that I swear her front bumper was kissing T-Hoe's rear. I could hardly see any of Bleachy's vehicle in my mirrors. Granted, people get pretty close to each other at the DQ drive-thru, to let those behind them move up to order at the speaker. But there's usually at least five feet of clearance. 

Sometimes, the workers will bring out an order that gets ready faster. So I always leave room so I can pull out of line and go around. It happened just last week. The worker guy said, "Cut your wheel real hard, and I think you'll make it." I thanked him, and assured him that I COULD make. That's my purpose for leaving just enough room.

Anyhoo... I was a bit annoyed with Bleachy, because last year, a guy actually DID run into me in that DQ line. Good thing I'm not prone to neck injuries and lawsuits. As I was fuming and shooting Bleachy the stinkeye in my mirror, though she couldn't see me, due to her over-closeness... the worker gal brough out Bleachy's ice cream cone. 

HEH, HEH! Bleachy was too close to pull out of line and go around the three of us ahead of her! No room to back up, because there were cars behind her. So she had to sit there until we were ready to pull ahead.

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SWEET, SWEET JUSTICE WAS SERVED! One out of three ain't bad.

Roads Are Designed For Automobiles. Really.

After my close encounter with the line-hugging cyclist on Thursday, I got around him and continued towards my bank. There's a section of this road that has a 3-way stop. It has traffic lights. Imagine an intersection that looks like this: lC, but with the top part of the C missing.

I was heading straight, but was stopped because the light was red. You have to wait for the C part of the intersection to get a red light, then you can go straight through when your light turns green. Cars coming toward me from the straight road also had a green light like the C part. That's actually MAIN STREET, and my part is a different road coming in to join it.

Anyhoo... ahead of me at the light was a young dude on a motorcycle. I use "motorcycle" loosely. It was not very big. Bigger than a Shriner's motorcycle. Bigger than a mini-bike. But not full motorcycle size. It was not a scooter, nor a moped. Just a really small motorcycle.

Anyhoo... Young Dude was sitting on his cycle, revving his engine, waiting his turn. The problem was, he was as far to the right side of the lane as he could get. I don't know why. Motorcycles have the same right-of-way as a car. They normally go down the middle of the lane.

Anyhoo... this little motorcycle and Young Dude were not in place to trigger the sensor under the pavement that signals the light to change. That light mainly stays green for the C and the oncoming part of my road. It's the main thoroughfare. If there's traffic waiting on my road, the sensor turns the Main St. light red, so my lane of traffic can proceed.

Such a dilemma. I was back a respectful distance, as I would allow for a car. So I was behind where the sensor is for the light. Yet Young Dude was not on the sensor. Even on a small motorcycle, I'm sure he would have triggered the light. It's not like traffic engineers don't know that motorcycles exist. 

We had been waiting an extraordinarily long time. Longer than I've ever waited at that light. At first I thought it might be malfunctioning, but then I noticed the position of Young Dude. What else could I do? I let T-Hoe creep forward until we were over the sensor. We were still behind Young Dude a bit. But so close that a car driver would have taken exception to my tailgating.

Young Dude didn't turn around to look at me. He didn't have mirrors. He didn't have a helmet. But at least T-Hoe triggered the light, and we got our green to proceed.

Roads are designed for automobiles. Or big fat motorcycles.

Roads Are Designed For Automobiles

The road where I almost met my doom by flying trampoline must be a bloodthirsty thoroughfare! There I was on Thursday, RIGHT WHERE the trampoline launched itself at me, when I spied a hazard. It was an old man on a bicycle. Not the kind of old-timey bike like that hateful dog-stealing lady rode in The Wizard of Oz, but a sleek 10-speed style bicycle. Old Man was not wearing a helmet.

Also, Old Man was not riding safely. There is actually a paved shoulder on that road, about 4-5 feet wide. It's where my deadly trampoline landed, after all, without impeding traffic. So there was plenty of room for Old Man and his bicycle. Yet he was hugging the sideline of that road. Good thing there were no wake-up bumps, or he might have jarred his false teeth loose. I could see that his tires were off the roadway, but his elbow was sticking over the line.

No way was I going to take a chance on hitting him! So I slowed T-Hoe down to Old Man speed, waiting for oncoming traffic to go by so I could swerve into their lane and pass him.

Here's the thing. Years ago, on New Year's Eve, a local state congressman was driving home from a night of celebration. Not on this specific road, but on the road that goes by the local high school. He hit a roadwalker with his passenger side mirror. You know how mirrors on a truck stick out. The man was knocked into a ditch, unconscious, and spent many weeks in the hospital. I think he eventually recovered.

Anyhoo... the congressman pulled over onto the parking lot of the high school. Threw away some beer cans from the truck. And switched places with his wife, so she was the driver. Then he went on his way, forgetting they had parked right in front of the school's surveillance camera. He did NOT turn around and go back to check on the Old Man. Obviously, they knew they hit somebody, or they wouldn't have switched drivers or gotten rid of beer cans. Not even sure they were fresh beer cans, since they had been celebrating at a local bar. I know there was a big stink, and the guy went to trial, but the results escape me at this time.

So... I was extra careful to NOT hit Old Man with T-Hoe's mirror.

Not blaming the victim, who should not have been walking on a dark road after midnight on New Year's Eve. Even though he was wrong, he did not deserve to be left in a ditch. I AM blaming future victim Old Man Cycler, because he should know better than to hug the road like that with his bicycle when there is room to ride on his private shoulder.

Farmer H's Buns

It is a full-time job trying to keep Farmer H alive! I don't know how he's made it this far. It's like on The Incredible Dr. Pol, when the vets say that horses will always find a way to hurt themselves. Farmer H will find a way to challenge his health.

Tuesday night, he got home from the auction around 9:00. He had skipped supper. Not because of his medication that non-diabetics clamor for, to decrease their appetite and lose weight. Nope. Because he had been feeling a little bit... indisposed. He elaborated as we chatted before I left for town.

"I don't know what's going on. This morning before I left home, I filled the toilet. At my doctor's appointment, I filled the toilet again. Then I went by and got my donut and headed to my storage unit, and had to go some more. I had lunch at the Senior Center and went by my locker to get some stuff, and went AGAIN. So I'm not sure if I want to eat before I go to the auction."

"I'd say maybe you should wait..."

Anyhoo... when Farmer H got home, he set about warming himself some supper. It was the hot dogs he grilled on Sunday. Since the time was late, he was only having one.

Farmer H stepped over to the kitchen sink, and reached across the counter to where I have a plate sitting with an old biscuit, a few potato chips, and a slice of bread dabbed in bacon grease. Also there's half a bag of bread, and four hot dog buns.

"Is this the buns?" He asked, while opening up the bag.

"NO! That is for dog treats! Put that down!"

"Huh. I thought them was the buns."

"The buns are where we always keep them. In the corner cabinet over by the refrigerator."

"Well, I thought that's where they were. But then I saw these."

You may recall, if you're a long-time reader, that I've caught Farmer H eating dog bread before. When I used to take it out of the cabinet, and set it on the counter in that area. I suppose Farmer H thinks that EVERYBODY is as lazy as he, and would leave bread 18 inches below the area where it is normally stored, rather than putting it back. So for that reason, I moved the future dog treats all the way across the kitchen, to the counter beside the kitchen door.

Farmer H's behavior such as this MIGHT be a reason he was feeling a bit... indisposed.

A Benefit Of Dwelling In Outer Hillmomba

Though I never have much of a schedule to keep, I sometimes grow impatient in the Gas Station Chicken Store. It mainly centers on people using their cards for trivial payments. The technology there is a bit lacking. 

Monday, my favorite cashier was working. Not her usual day, but she'd missed the weekend because she was sick. I was happy to see only two people ahead of me. The lady set her stuff on the glass-topped counter, and motioned for a man to go ahead of her. Then I'd be next. 

Dang it! That dude was buying lottery tickets! So much for getting speedy service. Of course I don't take long to buy MY tickets, heh, heh. But this guy was cashing in about 10-15 draw tickets. It took a while. Then he only bought two scratchers.

The lady stepped over next. I'll be darned if SHE didn't also have a passel o' draw tickets to scan. She was also paying for gas, had a fountain soda, and asked for a pack of cigarettes. After she re-did her malfunctioning card, she stepped aside to tear off her red tickets for the weekly gasoline draw, leaving her junk on the counter where I couldn't see the scratchers. So annoying.

Oh, and Lady kept talking to the cashier! Not fair. Her time was up! There were four new people behind me in line. But Lady asked about the "colored water." Cashier said she had not noticed before she came to work. I was too busy inwardly fuming to dwell on it. Until Tuesday, when I saw a story on the Facebook page of a city news station.

Hillmomba has a water problem, that being BROWN water coming out of the taps. One lady said after she and her husband finished their coffee, they turned on the sink faucet and saw that the water was the same color as their coffee! Another showed a picture of a bathtub full of gray water, and said she couldn't give her son a bath. A man commented that the water went from brown to gray to a variety of colors like an oil slick.

City officials said that the issue was related to a flush test on certain fire hydrants. Sediment got stirred up in the pipes, and that caused the discoloration. That they were flushing the whole water system to correct the problem. They "did not think" that such water was a health hazard...

Seriously. I'm pretty sure I would not want to drink water with sediment in it. Citizens complained that they had no notice of the hydrant test, nor the subsequent flushing of the lines. They suggested a notice on the future water bills of the schedule for future tests. Seems fair enough.

Farmer H says that most cities will issue a boil water order when there's sediment. Makes me really happy that we don't have city water. Just our cold, clear, well water. 

Check The Calendar, Universe!

It's the 1st of May, and The Universe continues to conspire against Mrs. HM. The winds that March supposedly came in with should have blown on their merry way by now. But no. March refused to go out like a lamb. Lioned its way right into April, and is still going strong in MAY!

Today we had 30 mph winds, with gusts over 40. Oh, it wasn't a chill wind. Temps in low 60s. But it was just an annoying wind that was most unwelcome.

Every time I stepped foot outside the Mansion or T-Hoe, that wind tried to rip the lovely lady-mullet right off my head. Tendrils whipped my face like a cat-o-nine-tails. Stinging like a dry jellyfish. Hair stuck to my teeth like shredded coconut on the outside of those delicious Snowball snack cakes. 

No matter which direction I headed, that wind was at my back. Eddying like a whirling dervish, covering my face with hair, trying to flip my shirt up over my head. Good thing Mrs. HM does not go to town in a dress!

The trees behind the Mansion sway violently. I don't fear them, because they can't reach the house. But on my travels with T-Hoe, I am apprehensive that a giant limb might come crashing down on us, or into our path. The metal roof of the Mansion sighs with annoyance. I'm pretty sure the trash dumpster is identifying as a heavy metal industrial version, in hopes of staying upright in our yard/field, and not prone in the middle of the gravel road.

Yesterday, in the field behind the Gas Station Chicken Store, in the area between the auto parts store and the can opener factory... I saw an upside down TRAMPOLINE. Yes. I had PTSD from a couple weeks ago, when one came flipping at me off the back of a truck. This one was twice its size. 

I got out of there as quickly as possible, hoping that trampoline wasn't coming after me!

I will take rain any day over wind.

Farmer H's Behavior Is What Most People Would Call Non(common)sensical

When Farmer H discovered that my oven wasn't heating normally due to a broken lower baking element, I ordered a new one. The UPS driver tossed it onto the gravel where Farmer H parks SilverRedO. 

I'm sure that driver tossed it, because nobody gets out of a delivery van to lay a package on the gravel beside a garage. Most of the drivers will bring it to the porch. Some knock on the door and then leave. Some set it on the end of the porch. Some lean it against the garage wall, between the two doors. And some leave it on the porch of a non-neighbor a half mile away on another road, or at a completely unknown house out on the blacktop county road. Still, my presumptions stands: no delivery driver gets out to lay a package on the gravel beside a garage.

Anyhoo... Farmer H got home that day as I was walking to the garage to leave. He was carrying my element under his arm, in a flat cardboard box. I had no idea he was going to install that part while I was in town, but he did. It was nice to have a fully-working oven again to make supper. But I DID have a gripe with Farmer H. 

Come on now. You can't say you are surprised...

When I turned the oven on, it smelled all burn-y. I commented on that to Farmer H.

"I turned it on for about five minutes to cook the new off of that element."

"Well. It still smells like something's burning."

"I guess maybe I should have left it on a little longer."

When I opened the oven to put in our taquitos, I saw the reason for the burn-y-ness.

Remember the state of my oven when I took the picture of the broken element?

It still looked the same, with the exception of a bottom element that was intact now. Farmer H had not brushed out those crumbs!

Don't get me wrong. I don't expect Farmer H to go in and clean my oven. However... if he's going to be shoulder-deep in it, using a screwdriver to remove the bottom element, I don't think it would be a hardship for him to brush out those crumbs onto a paper plate. He could use his hand. The element would have been out of the way. Not saying he needed to get the broom and dustpan. Just scoot those crumbs out while he was in there anyway! But no. He left them, and put the new element in over those crumbs, which responded by charring themselves under the extreme heat of the new working element.

I guess this lack of attention to detail is why Farmer H will step over items dropped on the floor, rather than picking them up. Perhaps it's something to do with his vision...