White Lightning Axiom: Redux

Yikes ... they day is flying past and I've had nearly zero time to do the things I want to. I did leave at a reasonable time yesterday evening. Well, late afternoon actually. Since I got in at 0730 I bolted out the door 8 hours later at 1530. Let me tell you, the traffic at that hour is significantly less congested but not any better. Meaning that, even though there are less vehicles swerving about and fewer people throwing hand-grenades, they seem to drive a lot slower too. The current plan for the turnpike is to raise the speed limit to 65 from KOP all the way over to Jersey, but people are still going 55-60 in the passing lanes. I cannot blame them, it is the law after all. You don't HAVE to go exactly the speed limit, but if you can see the veins on the temples of the driver behind you through the rear-view mirror and feel the hot breath on your neck ... move over please.

The new projects at work expanded to include 2 new tasks ... interesting how all the work comes at once. Feast or famine. The current high-priority project is a nasty one. It takes 4 hours to run the process at it's leanest invocation. Argh ... I hate to wait. Fortunately, it gives me some bandwidth to research some of the background on the other slices of work laid out for me.

I had a bit of a surprise awaiting me when I conducted the daily S&R mission. When I arrived at Cell Block C, I found that the kids cubbies were no longer labeled. In fact, all of their possessions were missing as well. Ooookay. Did the government snatch my kids and make them 'disappear', yet they had forgotten to erase my memory. Hmmm. No, I call the Mrs and she confirms that we do have children and she did drop them off at the same address as she always does. Okay, alternate dimension perhaps? I ask around and get an answer fairly quickly ... they have been 'graduated' to the potty training room. Well, ok. I guess it's all the talk about potties that spurred this sudden escalation of rank among the pecking order of captive children. Well, after the anxiety attack receded, I trotted off to the NEW AND IMPROVED CHILD DETAINMENT ROOM and collected their things before heading out back. Since the weather has been nice, they have been spending a lot of time in the exercise yard lifting weights and swapping cartons of cigarettes for extra ding-dongs. You know, the usual activities of the incarcerated. Needless to say, they were very happy to see me and stormed the gates before I could get there. The old gimpy legs just don't carry me as fast as they used to. After the Daycare Professionals set down their tazers and stun batons, they picked up the half dozen victims that Jake and Alexis rolled over and opened the security gate so that they could launch themselves into my arms. 60+ lbs of flying fury can really put you off balance if you are not ready for it. I quickly regained my composure and we headed off to the SuperSaturn for a quick trip back to the Haupertonian HQ where the Twin Towers were standing in wait for the little ones.

What seem like seconds after we had started digging in the sand and swinging/sliding/running and looking at the clouds, the Mrs arrives in the carport. Now the kids are thrilled to play with me, Alexis more than Jacob for some reason. When the Mrs arrives though, you think that Jacob has seen the second coming or an alien battle cruiser land. He takes off like a bullet and starts shaking the gate like he is about to rip it off it's hinges. Today, however, he shows me that his cognitive development is well under way. He rattles the gate for a bit till the Family Tank finally comes to a rest and the hydraulics allow the disembarkment platform to lower. He suddenly ceases his agitation, reaches up to the latch and flips it open. Zoom, out around the front of the Tank and directly into Mommy's path before she can set one foot on the asphalt. Ok, he can open the gate ... swell. I was not about to put a lock on the gate, but I did have a titanium C-Clip (you know, the ones used for mountain climbing) and snapped it into the slot so that he could not open the gate without figuring out how to remove the clip. This should be good for a week.

I spent the next hour cleaning the gutters of all the decaying matter that had collected there since mid-winter. The wind picked up a few leaves and pine needles which clogs the down-spouts. This renders the gutters fairly useless and only invites mosquitoes to leave larva in the stagnant water. Oh, and speaking of stagnant water, I also go to wriggle beneath the kitchen sink and diddle with the faucet attachment. It had managed to come loose and the retaining screws had worked out of the cuff so much that one had fallen to the back of the cabinet. Getting under there is a bit of a hassle for a person of my size. With all the associated cruft under there (Sink disposal, water purifier, misplaced feed pipes), I barely had space to reach up behind the extra-deep skin basin and put the screws back in. Ended up irritating an old weight-lifting injury in my shoulder from my college days and swiftly put an end to the evenings heavy industrial work. Wuss? Perhaps, but I can live with that.

The only other thing to note is the unusual occurrence of howling hounds. These days, the dogs bark now and again and whimper a lot when they want attention, or to go out and pee. For the most part, they do now howl. In fact, this was the one of the few times in 2.5 years that they have ever 'Sang'. We get a lot of emergency vehicles going up and down the road behind the Manor. Fire engines, police, ambulances. The works. And for the most part, the hounds pay very little attention to them. The siren has to be at just the right volume and pitch, the speed/velocity has to be just right too. When all the stars align, Thor will go off on this elongated howl that isn't necessary loud, just omnipresent. He'll stand there like a statue and bellow away till you give him a shove or distract him with food. The Mrs just sits there and laughs. I must admit to her credit that it is a bit humorous mostly due to the infrequency of occurrence and special conditions that it takes to set him off. Now if I could only get him to sing on command.

Oh, one last thing. Since I met up with the Mrs at the grocery store on Sunday morning, I got to grab a slab of meat for Jerky. I spent a chunk of time slicing up a big sheet of briskett. Mmmmm, jerky. One week to cure, 2 days to dry, 1 hour to eat. :)