Frank Sinatra - The Lady Is A Tramp (Lyrics)

Tweaking Roxie

 

It's been a month now since Roxie called the sheriff on me.   I was so outraged I decided to write my senator.   I've felt like writing my senator about the post office before,  but this time I did it. 

But since February 25th, Roxie has stopped harassing me.   Has she come to her senses?  I doubt that.  I think the sheriff was embarrassed by raiding my house because Roxie told him to.  Then?   He insisted on going to mother's bed and shouting at her until she woke up.  Then, judging by his expression,  I think it became clear to him he had done something ridiculous.   Because of Roxie's hysterical report to him, he was certain something was bad wrong here,  and I had smothered my mother.  

Since that time,  I've expected the sheriff to come over here again every day to break down the door and "save Mrs. Billingsley."   Now I've started to believe the siege is over.  

What sets Roxie off?  Roxie has a hissy fit if I don't go out every day and pick up the mail.   If she delivers the mail, and sees yesterday's mail still in the mailbox, she calls the sheriff and tells him that I've killed Mrs. Billingsley.  

So today I went out to check the mail.   All that I got was an ad from a jewelry company.   Just for the drama of it, I put it back in the mailbox to set off Roxie.  

Look out!

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil

 

I needed a minor issue to be addressed by a lawyer.  But which one?  Danger Dog says do your homework.  

I chose the first one on the list when I googled this county.   This has led to a difficult experience.  I explained what I needed from him, and even why.   He seems to have jumped to the conclusion that I needed a will.   Absolutely no amount of talking to him about this issue has in any way deterred him from making a will.  When I say, "Well, that's not what I needed.  This is what I need," he begins to tell me, incorrectly,  the name of the only person I happened to mention, which is my nephew.  Calling him by his nickname, the lawyer said, "Tater Tot has been excluded from the will."  This lawyer doesn't actually know my name.  He asked me to call him with the full names and exact spellings of two witnesses.  I got that and called him back.  "Well, I can't take that information right now because I'm driving."  That's another thing about this sketchy man.  He originally made an appointment with me at his office at 1:00 pm on a Friday around a month ago.  When I went to his office, he wasn't there.  The office was a glass front room in a strip mall.  The door was locked.  

I called him from home to say that he had missed the appointment.  I had arrived with Mrs. Billingsley at his office.  I told him that it had been necessary for me to call 911 to get first responders here to help me get her into the car.   I had called 911 to help me get her back in the house.  He blathered on for a moment, not understanding that my mother was not in the house but still sitting in the car, where she would be for another twenty or thirty minutes.   He offered to come to the house on the following Monday.  He started to discuss "the will," but when I tried to tell him it wasn't about a will, he began to define a will.  Then he told me there would need to be chairs.  On and on he went about chairs.  Next he told me we would need a table.  Did I own a table?  "No, I don't own a table," I said.  

I have spoken to others about going down this rabbit hole, and how I need to climb out of it.  Oh no.  All lawyers are rabbit holes.   Just continue forward with this one and get it over with.  But I am never going to be able to get the actual document that I needed from this person.  I googled his name to check reviews.  Goodness.  You never saw so many people spitting tacks.  "Unprofessional," was the kindest review.  "Rude," was ubiquitous.  "He belittled me."  "He cursed me and hung up."   One said he was filing a complaint against him with the bar association.  

So even if I were resigned to all lawyers being demons from hell, I just can't take any more stuff from this one.  

There are two lawyers that I'm considering now.  One is in this county.  One is in the next county.  I actually went to the one in the next county in the past.  I had seen his father about a will, but then his father had retired, and his son had taken over.  Well.  OK.  I wasn't completely sold on the son, but he seemed adequate.   Oh, by the way,  there had been no witnesses to this contract that I had been required to bring.  The other one, in this county, I don't have any history with, except that I once took a civil lawsuit to court, and either he was the judge or one of his relatives.  The lawsuit was judged in my favor.  Goodness the hooting and hollering that went on outside the courtroom after that.  The entire benighted clan was there.  That little battle had had way more drama from the people I sued than one would ever imagine.   I needed them to chain their vicious dog.  I knew that if I could get one penny from them for any of the damage the dog had done, that dog would be chained.  And the dog was chained after that.   Mrs. Billingsley told me she could see the roof of their house blowing off when they had to pay me $150.   

I guess it's a toss up now between the lawyer in this county and the one in the next county.  Maybe I should go to the next county.  At least I don't feel that either of these two are out of their minds.   All I need is a one page form.   

I wonder why every step of the way in any endeavor has to be made impossible?  

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Fooled Again

 

The clock people, together with the federal government, have made a mockery of all that is holy again!  And I fell for it.  I have always fallen for it.  

Last night I fell asleep around 11:30 pm.  I remember wondering what I had eaten for dinner.  I had forgotten to eat dinner.  Cheesh.  Would hunger keep me awake?  Poor little me.  What shall I think about?  The Lord's Prayer would be good.  

Hunger did not keep me awake.  I awoke bright and early today.  OK.  Not early.  Somehow I had slept till 10:00 am.  How could that be?  

I got up to check on Mrs. Billingsley.  I expected to find her sitting up, just a little annoyed with me for neglecting her.   She wanted breakfast.  Now!  I mentally braced myself.   But, Mrs. Billingsley was still sound asleep.  

I went into the kitchen and got the coffee started, then fixed Mrs. B's protein drink.  After delivering her drink I went back to my room and began to play chess.  My strategies were worse than ever, which made me wonder about my sanity.  

At around 11:00 am I decided to drink coffee whether Mrs. Billingsley was ready or not.  I supposed she would wake up soon, and went ahead and made her a tomato sandwich for breakfast.  After delivering the sandwich and the coffee, I went back to get my own coffee...finally!  Twenty past 11:00??  This was odd.  My chess was odd, my start to the day was weirdly late.  I puzzled a bit over the shake up in my life.  Oh well.  

By noon, Mrs. Billingsley was eating breakfast and drinking coffee.  She did not find anything off kilter about the day.  OK.  The mystery deepened.  

Well, she said, she was going to lie down, but she was sure I wouldn't want to go rest.  I buzzed back off to my room to play chess again and regroup.  Maybe I needed an aspirin.  

I was playing another cockeyed game of chess, when suddenly I knew what the trick was.   We had switched back to daylight savings time.  Some of the clocks had automatically changed.  The rest had never been changed last fall.   Fooled again.  

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Why isn’t anyone addressing this?

Roxie?

 

Early this morning, while I was peacefully sleeping,  I was awakened by loud banging sounds in front of the house.  It sounded like explosions.  Four times, then four times more.  I thought it was Roxie, and she had finally decided to break down the door with a sledgehammer.  OK, Roxie.  We'll see about this.  

Without getting dressed I jumped out of bed and rushed to the front door.  I was relieved to see it was intact.  I threw it open and saw an enormous gravel truck putting its carrier up in the air with hydraulics.  It was a huge truck, a larger gravel truck than I had ever seen.  I would say much larger than the one in the photo above, with higher walls.  

It was a strange sight for a lot of reasons.  One was that this piece of equipment was too large for the road.  Way too large.  This is a one lane dirt road and a thing the size of a semi was on it, right in front of the house.  That was weird enough, but it was pouring rain.  We are just entering the rainy season here.  It had not rained in around ten days.  So today was the perfect day for major road work?   On top of that, although this mammoth dump truck had lifted its gravel carrier sky high to dump gravel, I saw no gravel come out.  

This monster truck zoomed up and down the road for several hours, pulling in front of houses and raising its gravel carrier up in the air.  Each time there was the sound of explosions.  I called the county and asked them about it.  They told me they would call the road department and get back with me.  But no one ever did.  I called the foreman of the road department, since I acquired his number somehow and put it in my directory.  Someone answered and hung up.  I know that was you, Bobby!

I did drive out on the road after all the commotion.  It looked like a jumbo truck had been driving up and down the road and who knows?  Maybe the road was grated.  It was a lot more drama than usual.  

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