So today I went and picked up my new little redhead. We figure her to be two years old. She’s a love sponge, and while originally I thought she had been somebody’s pet, she isn’t trained in any language. I’ve tried English, German and Spanish. Still there is nothing like the love of a little redhead. I taught her down on the way home and she’s doing pretty good with sit. The prong collar was a fine how do you do and she had a few things to say about that barbaric practice, then she walked perfectly at heel. She’s a lot smaller than Beauregard. He thought “Great! A playmate!” and then she took him to school. They’ll work it out.
I was a little nervous about driving across the State today to get a dog in my pickup truck. I got up this morning and it was clear as can be, so I thought I’d run up there before anything bad happened. About an hour and a half into the drive I decided it was time to stand up and maybe get some coffee. My hip flexors have been an ongoing issue ever since I went to work for the Bloodless Empire. I have to sit all day in a chair with no other tasks and I’m pretty jacked up from it. Now, since they can’t seem to get the ergonomics people out to see me, in spite of my pleas, I just stand up and stretch every 20-30 minutes. It’s better, but 90 minutes in the truck is about critical mass. So I stopped in Willows. They may have done an X-files about Willows, California. The one where everyone was so inbred that they had a hand coming out of their forehead and couldn’t add even using all fifteen fingers. Yeah, Willows, California. 9am, no rain, no wind in sight and the Starbucks is closed. The McDonalds is closed. The Chevron is closed. All that is open is a packed Arco and a Murder King. I choose the latter. We’ll check later for a hand coming out of my forehead, because that was a completely moronic move. The one girl at the counter keeps asking the cook for XYZ surprise and the cook keeps saying “I put it out there”. Well, come to find out the guy with the hand coming out of his forehead was giving her orders to the drive-up. Randomly. This whole process takes place while I stand alone in line, waiting. (BTW, today is my free day) So the cook says, “put the guy with the hand coming out of his forehead on the register”. My register. Which even with three hands he can’t operate. I think back to the piece Keith Olbermann did when the FBI arrested five terrorists for trying to blow up JFK by getting into the jet fuel line and detonating it. He correctly opined that jet fuel could not ignite without oxygen and that trying to blow up the airport via the fuel line would not work. (It won’t) He said “So the FBI arrested five morons”. They must be out on bail and working at the Burger King in Willows, California. It took 30 minutes to get coffee and a biscuit sandwich this morning, for no real reason. I was sure I was in the X-Files.
Riddle me this, Batman
Why does the State of California have rest stops up and down Highway 5 if none of them are open. Not one. That’s what got me into the fast food joint in the first place. What the hell are our taxes paying for anyway?
What’s really a little surreal about the whole thing is how the 5 looked so much like the 49 in Mississippi after Katrina. Of course, not so much as I got down in the Gulfport, Long Beach area, but up in the Hattiesburg area, it looked very similar. Businesses were closed from the storm, the big lighted signs were damaged, the road signs were uprooted and twisted and you could see large trees just snapped. In a few places you could see where water had come up onto the highway and left debris. It really looked like Mississippi 2005 out there today. Luckily, I missed all the rain until I was about 15 minutes from home.
When I returned I went out to Lowe’s and got a couple of 2X4’s and some braces to kludge the fence back together. Currently it’s standing. I have an easement in the back yard, the very back for a creek. When I bought the property I couldn’t see a creek anywhere near the property and the aerials didn’t show anything either. Now there is a rushing creek about 50 yards off from the property where they was a dry bed last week.
Tomorrow will bring the further adventures of Beauregard and Rita, who looks marvelous with her Rockabilly dog tag.