"Letters to Miss Emily..."

News that affects all of Canada, including Canadian Bills of Parliament and the Senate, the Firearms Registration Act and other Laws and Bills that are national in scope and affect us all.

Postby backhoe » 07/ 11/ 10 8:06 am

Edward Kennedy wrote:
backhoe wrote:Edward, I have always found dark amusement at people who are scared to death of guns ( Because they are so dangerous! They kill people! ) who will pile into their vehicles and without a thought, launch I don't know how many foot-tons of energy down the road.

Yakking, eating, applying makeup, thinking about everything in the world except--

keeping that much power and energy under control...


Yup.

In my younger days, when my peers were attending dances, getting sloshed and driving hell bent in cars provided for them by their parents, my mother was criticized for actually backing myself and my brother for purchases of "murdercycles".

A motorcycle is faster, more manoeverable, and can stop quicker than any car, but provides zero protection in the event of collision.

I have been driving them 44 years and have been to several funerals of people I went to school with who died in car accidents.


Yes, motorcycles are also considered "dangerous" but like any machine ( a device which generates, directs, or controls a flow of power ) it is as safe as the operator makes it.

The kicker to that is, naturally "all those other drivers"-- they are the real hazard when you are riding.
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Postby Edward Kennedy » 07/ 11/ 10 8:28 am

backhoe wrote:
Edward Kennedy wrote:
backhoe wrote:Edward, I have always found dark amusement at people who are scared to death of guns ( Because they are so dangerous! They kill people! ) who will pile into their vehicles and without a thought, launch I don't know how many foot-tons of energy down the road.

Yakking, eating, applying makeup, thinking about everything in the world except--

keeping that much power and energy under control...


Yup.

In my younger days, when my peers were attending dances, getting sloshed and driving hell bent in cars provided for them by their parents, my mother was criticized for actually backing myself and my brother for purchases of "murdercycles".

A motorcycle is faster, more manoeverable, and can stop quicker than any car, but provides zero protection in the event of collision.

I have been driving them 44 years and have been to several funerals of people I went to school with who died in car accidents.


Yes, motorcycles are also considered "dangerous" but like any machine ( a device which generates, directs, or controls a flow of power ) it is as safe as the operator makes it.

The kicker to that is, naturally "all those other drivers"-- they are the real hazard when you are riding.


Yup, was out last week doing prices, steaming down Bath Road and as I approached Gardiner's Road intersection, a young gal was staring straight at me while simultaneously pulling a right hand turn too close to me to avoid a collision. I had no time to check the rear mirror and whipped into the no man's land between the two lanes in case there was a car beside me passing in the left lane.

It worked, and the next light, I stopped in the left waiting for her to stop beside me, so I could ask her politely of she thoughjt I had a death wish. She stopped but it was two three carlengths back, tho she was the first in that lane. She must have been afraid I was going to verbally abuse her and known of her error.

One has to always assume they are invisible when driving a motorcycle, this happens lots of times.
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Postby backhoe » 07/ 11/ 10 12:33 pm

Edward Kennedy wrote:
backhoe wrote:
Edward Kennedy wrote:
backhoe wrote:Edward, I have always found dark amusement at people who are scared to death of guns ( Because they are so dangerous! They kill people! ) who will pile into their vehicles and without a thought, launch I don't know how many foot-tons of energy down the road.

Yakking, eating, applying makeup, thinking about everything in the world except--

keeping that much power and energy under control...


Yup.

In my younger days, when my peers were attending dances, getting sloshed and driving hell bent in cars provided for them by their parents, my mother was criticized for actually backing myself and my brother for purchases of "murdercycles".

A motorcycle is faster, more manoeverable, and can stop quicker than any car, but provides zero protection in the event of collision.

I have been driving them 44 years and have been to several funerals of people I went to school with who died in car accidents.


Yes, motorcycles are also considered "dangerous" but like any machine ( a device which generates, directs, or controls a flow of power ) it is as safe as the operator makes it.

The kicker to that is, naturally "all those other drivers"-- they are the real hazard when you are riding.


Yup, was out last week doing prices, steaming down Bath Road and as I approached Gardiner's Road intersection, a young gal was staring straight at me while simultaneously pulling a right hand turn too close to me to avoid a collision. I had no time to check the rear mirror and whipped into the no man's land between the two lanes in case there was a car beside me passing in the left lane.

It worked, and the next light, I stopped in the left waiting for her to stop beside me, so I could ask her politely of she thoughjt I had a death wish. She stopped but it was two three carlengths back, tho she was the first in that lane. She must have been afraid I was going to verbally abuse her and known of her error.

One has to always assume they are invisible when driving a motorcycle, this happens lots of times.


Tom McHail ( sic ) who was Mechanix Illustrated's test driver in days of yore said:

"always assume every oncoming driver is a Homicidal Maniac, and he has your name on his mind..."

Just by the way, I seem to have offended the Gypsy Woman of computers, and been accursed.

You've read of recent fried PC & router adventures-- just now, I tried to install Finepix on this new box so I could work in A/C.

It froze the box, and I did not want to wait 'till Monday to take it to Barry, so I put the old HD back. Lost four days, but I copied the doc files I had added from the now unbootable drive.

Went upstairs into the heat, to load some pictures I wanted to post here & maybe the other post-- Photobucket wouldn't load them for some damn reason.

So I copied them to a thumb drive and will try again from down here, where it's cool.

Tarnation.
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Postby backhoe » 07/ 11/ 10 12:55 pm

OK, here it is-- this is a mobile I am piecing together of "her favorite things"--

The red bandanna she wore all the time to hold her hair back ( God, how that hurts to remember... ), there's her EFM badge from the June 3-5 conference she hosted.

The last handkerchief of hers I found, stuffed under her pillows.

Her business card "EFM Coordinator," and her button.

The four colorful objects are things Cole picked out from the bottom of her hanky basket-- I had no idea they were there.

"Survivor!" and "American Idol" were two of her favorite TV shows, but the Survivor object is a can insulator from the 2001 Byars wedding at Honey Creek and an EFM pen is clipped to it.

God, if only we could go back, in time...

And that is one of her guitar stands holding it.

"Wench Bench" reads the sign on the bench Robert made for her, and the flip-flop is her favorite "Betty Boop."

<img src="http://tinyurl.com/2g3egjs" height="662" width="411">
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Postby Edward Kennedy » 07/ 11/ 10 1:24 pm

...personal items hold memories of yesteryear, or relationships, of feelings and emotions...and they are all everlasting...
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Postby backhoe » 07/ 11/ 10 1:56 pm

Continuing

"Letters to Miss Emily,"

Sweetie, among the many messes and loose ends and "stuff you ought to have written down?"

I just realized today it's been a month since you gave your mutts heartworm & flea treatments.

Luckily, there was one dose left. I emailed Doctor Overman about the need to get some more of this before the month is out.

As I recall, you got ours via the 'net, but of course you left no info I could find-- so I figure the easiest way is the vet.

Of course, you always made a big production out of this-- I just walked up to the dogs & squirted the flea meds between their shoulder blades.

The heartworm medicine you always cut into quarters and hand-fed it to them in Braunschwagger ( sic! ).

Zoey kept spitting hers out, so I pried her mouth open and shoved it to the back of her tongue.

Your Golden Boy is next, and he'd better take the damn stuff.

Irritably yours,
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Postby backhoe » 07/ 11/ 10 4:40 pm

Well, my Girl, your pack of mutts has been dosed- no thanks to them. When I talk to the Doc I will try to keep my wits and ask if there is anything equivalent that can be given easier... methinks you spoiled them too much.

Got a steak from Grandy's-- figured I wouldn't have to tell your story to "the girl in the box," unlike walk-in places we used to visit.

Fed & ran the dogs.

Another way I'm looking to shave expenses is doing wash less often.

Remember how we used to joke that one single person produced One Standard Unit of Trash-- dirty clothes, dirty dishes, and wet & dry trash?

And how when you got married, it became a square or cube of that number?

1 single person = 1 SUT
2 together?

4 or 6 SUT...

It's amazing how little there is now-- I could probably wash every second or third day, now, with you away.

I miss you, kiddo
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Postby backhoe » 07/ 12/ 10 5:58 am

The Lightning Storm

Well, my Little One,

We had some excitement last night-- another night “since you went away...”

I spent part of the evening watching the clouds roll in-- on the front porch, with the dogs in the yard, praying to you and to God with the usual stuff-
( “Let her be OK, let even Helen be... not in a bad place, but running and standing again, help me get thru another day... let my babies be OK, and just by the way, why did all this stuff happen? )

I got 'em in, and we started settling down for the night... and all Hell broke loose...

Rain, wind... fire from the sky...

You know how spooky old Zoey is-- loud noises like thunder used to make her stand, and tremble uncontrollably? Until we let her come in to out quarters here, and sleep on the sofa?

Well, she slept on the couch-- but Cole the Golden One followed me around as I checked for leaks ( the roof was fine, but the windows still need work-- funny, I thought I had fixed the ones downstairs... _

Then, there was a “boom!”

And the lights flickered... another “bang!” and the power went out...

I had the wits to shut down my computer ( so I wouldn't lose my places in email, your facebook wall, and here, where out kind hosts are putting up with my scribblings... ) but damnifIknow how to close that blasted netbook of yours-- I shut the case, and hoped the battery would keep it running in doze mode before it lost power and lost “your” places on the 'net I had it monitoring...

That standby light we got for your Mom- the one I brought here after she died-- came on, so the “bedroom” downstairs where we all were, had some light, but everywhere else was dark, so I started stirring around, looking for battery- powered ( remember “bat-tree?” That's how us Southroners say “battery...” ) lights...

The two Coleman lanterns I got for you-- you were always so scared of the dark-- hanging near my PC had enough juice in them to use, so I lit them and hung them on the hooks I put in the doorways so you could see to get around...

Zoey still slept, Cole kept getting, Taffy-like, under my feet...

I figured I'd better call Georgia Power, and try to get them to restore power-- the lights weren't too much of a problem, but the heat? Zoey was already panting in her sleep and it would only get worse without the A/C on.

Phone book? Where is the damn thing? Find it, call the number...

It's voice mail, dammit, and they want numbers ( Social security, account number... ) that I don't have handy... scurry about, grabbing old bills and tax returns, and the damnable thing squawks, “ You gave an invalid number! Thank you for calling... click!”

So I get all the numbers in a pile on the breakfast table-- with a flashlight in the growing dark-- and call the back, go thru all the damn numbers ( ever try to read a cell phone screen in the half-dark with a flashlite? Shore ain't easy... ) and finally get a human being...

I explain the situation-- why “your” telephone number isn't the one I'm using ( she's dead-- I'll change it next billing cycle ), why I need the power restored ( I've got a 17 year old dog who's scared of the dark ) and she tells me “power will be restored before 10:00 O'clock It's about 8... )

I thank her, and begin more stirring around-- set LED flashlights so the dogs can see to get around ( like I used to do for you, my nearly blind baby, when the power went out ), remember the damn flat roof upstairs ( Good God! It is so hot up there with the fan still-- but the UPS for the fallback computer is squawking loudly, “Beep... Blat! Beep!” ) and check it, and the windows that leaked so badly during the last squall...

You helped me bail out the upstairs, then... Jesus, that seems so long ago...

It's all OK, but I raise my fist to the overhead, and say something along the lines of,

“God!

Emily!

Don't you dare let this little bastard spring a leak! I can't get up there anymore to patch it, and I've got more than I can handle right now!”

The roof and windows hold-- with the UPS squawking in the background-- but it's still too hot downstairs.

I briefly toy with the idea of cranking one of the two generators on the porch-- the big one I built for you, the little on we got for your Momma, so her deep freezer would have power-- but I remember I gave our last spare can of gas to the neighbor across the street when she ran out, so I decide to wait it out...

Wait... and while we are all OK-- albeit a little hot, it occurs to me that I had better catch a shower before the hot water in the heater cools off-- I've been sweating like a stevedore in the heat all day-- been thru 3 or 4 shirts already... so I make my way, once more up those long and winding stairs...

How do you shower by flashlite? Flip in over, stick it in the sink so it shines up on the overhead, and you have Indirect Lighting-- of a sort.

Good enough to get around, but not see well.

I clean up-- with the backup PC's UPS still squawking as accompaniment-- and go downstairs.

Check the temp of the outside air versus where us critters are--- it's still cooler in the bedroom. So I decide to leave the doors closed.

Wait... get a “headlite”-- one of those strapon things I use for looking in tight places-- so I can read. I remember getting you quite a few booklites to help you read, but damn if I can find them.

There's a “purse light” in your sad nightstand-- I remember how proud you were of it, it came with that expensive purse you got recently- what is it doing, in there?-- and several booklites in the cabinet in the kitchen, but I figure the headlite will be more useful, since it points where I point my head...

Then the power comes back...

Mad rush to turn on all three A/C's-- power bills! But the old girl is panting...

Turn off all the battery-powered stuff... did I get it all? Make notes to buy more lanterns, and batteries.

Run around the house-- Miss Emily's, not mine-- to recheck everything... all OK, just “missing you...”

Get The Wind Machine off the front porch, and direct it to blow cool air over the Old Goat for a while, and damnif it doesn't cool her, quickly-- I just learned something new.

Pour a stiff drink, settle down with my puppies, and start reading that “last book” you gave me, since “you went away...”

Normally, I finish a book in a few days-- used to be a few hours, when I was young, and fast, and could see well-- but this one has stretched out a month and more, and I am about a third of the way thru it.

I kind of don't, want, to finish it... since it was the last thing you gave me...

Maybe I'll set it aside, with that stack of books you never got to, and take it upstairs, and place it with all your “stuff...”

Because nobody- except you or I-- will know, understand, or care anymore, about such things...

i

miss

you

Kid....

“...and I straighten
Miss Emily's picture
on the Wall...”

Minor Footnotes to this story?
1)- Offer the Thompsons across the street that smaller generator- I saw them peering out of their dark house, and I sure don't need two of the things...

2)- Get the electric lantern from Lucy's-- she won't be using it, and I can...

3)- The “new austerity” we are implementing is fine, but today I need to drive places & get things...

-30-
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Postby backhoe » 07/ 12/ 10 8:19 am

“...and I straighten
Miss Emily's picture
on the Wall...”

<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v117/rollinson/coleem0108cuddle.jpg" height="232" width="313">

Line up the electric lanterns on the counter, and make notes about batteries... naturally, the “rechargeable one” gave out first...

Drag the smaller generator out-- the one I want to give Sammy & Miss Cherry-- and remember the damn thing had a rusty gas tank problem-- I cleaned and OSPO'd it out for Lucy, but sure enough, it's rusty inside again... try to clean it to the bare metal, or buy a new one? About the same amount of labor either way-- it has to come off, first, in any case-- but it dates back to the 1980's-- can I find a tank?

Line up bills to pay and wonder again, “what am I going to do, without her...”

“...and I straighten
Miss Emily's picture
on the Wall...”

<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v117/rollinson/EmShellyRossi.jpg" height="232" width="313">

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Postby Edward Kennedy » 07/ 12/ 10 1:35 pm

Line up bills to pay and wonder again, “what am I going to do, without her...”



Answer to that is easy, you are going to keep remembering her and caring about her and missing her as long as you live as you did the first gal...but you are also going to keep on going as you did after you lost the first angel.
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Postby backhoe » 07/ 12/ 10 2:10 pm

Edward Kennedy wrote:Line up bills to pay and wonder again, “what am I going to do, without her...”



Answer to that is easy, you are going to keep remembering her and caring about her and missing her as long as you live as you did the first gal...but you are also going to keep on going as you did after you lost the first angel.


Edward, all I can to is go on, until "I cain't go no mo..."

Drive! Ever onward...
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Postby backhoe » 07/ 12/ 10 2:23 pm

Miss E?

Here's a Quikee, Cutie, in between trips.

Miss Cherry came over whilst I was pulling the gas tank and told her what I intended.
The tank put up the expected fight, and it was so badly rusted that there was not a chance of salvaging it.

My original plan was to see if Hogarth's could get one, get a lantern from your Mom's, shop at Wal-Mart and gas the truck and fill two jerrycans coming home.

Hogarth had changed owners, and first they thought the tanks were unavailable.

When they located one and added shipping and small parts ( gasket, dip tube, fuel pump diaphragm ) it was $107... yikes!

Did fast thinking-- unit's worthless with the old tank, the Thompson's have treated me like family, and I know "we" are tight on money-- but I did it, and hopefully can get the unit serviceable again, and give it to them for emergencies.

I think- and hope, you'd approve.

But this took so long I grew concerned about the pups being alone, with the dryer running, so I cut short "the plan," gassed up, and came home.

I'll take your car to WallyWorld shortly-- it's faster and cooler, anyway.

Get extra pj's so I can wash every second or third day, buy "D" batteries by the dozen and the other usual stuff.

It's really eerie, not finding you here, Sweet Pea. Damn. It.
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Postby backhoe » 07/ 12/ 10 4:51 pm

Sweetheart ( or is that Sweet Tart? ) I'm going to wrap it up early tonight.

Wal-Mart was the usual zoo of Zombie Elders in power chairs, grossly overweight men & women, and orbiting hyperactive brats. I got a clip so I can work off a line on the roof-- that damned plant that likes to grow by your sewing room- the one we never will finish, now-- is back and making the porch roof leak. Hate doing it without you to get help, but I probably can do it without falling off.

Got extra pj's so I can wash less often, a few food & dog items, Zantac for my "fire in the belly" woes ( this has been kind of stressful, and since I nearly died from bleeding ulcers when we were newlyweds, ugly thoughts keep crossing my mind... ) and what few batteries they had left-- there'd been a run on them.

Mounted brackets on the porch to hang the lanterns in a more out of the way area.

Nothing in the mail I couldn't manage without you here, but you are sorely missed.
I know I ought to consult with our financial advisor before doing anything about the credit card payments, but I can hardly stand the thought of doing that, or getting your death certificates from Miller-- I have come to hate that place, and never want to see it again, not even as a client...
I m may talk to your brother about it- he was a pretty good businessman.

The vet will bring heartworm and flea meds here on her next stop downtown, and I'll try to get her to trim Zoey's nails while I hold the old goat-- she's walking badly and I think that is most or all of it.

I'm OK, mostly... except when I'm not.

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Postby backhoe » 07/ 13/ 10 12:46 am

“Silent Keys...”

Sweetie, one of the worst things, about losing you, is the way you have become a Silent Key...

I wrote about closing your cell phone account here:

http://www.freedominion.com.pa/phpBB2/v ... 23#1510123

...but despite my written words, it was far worse than I wrote about... the mechanics of getting the account closed sort of insulated me from the awfulness of it all, but after I got home, it hit me-- once more, I had taken actions, that killed off a little, tiny slice, of the things that made you, You...

It still hurts. You, the cell phone you always carried-- I strapped mine on to my belt, like all that Heavy Iron ( weapons ) I carried, in days of yore, but you, you always just dropped the damned thing into a pocket, so you always had it-- have slipped away into The Dead Letter Office... into the Land of Dead Worlds, or...

Or the Land of Silent Keys...

Kind of like your Facebook account-

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id= ... 090&v=wall

I heard about it, joined it, and promptly forgot about it...

You, embraced it.

Posted pictures of the things you loved, chatted, did things I did not appreciate, or realize the significance of, at the time...

Both your cell phone, and your facebook page, were beehives of activity when “you went away...”

Now?

Dead...

Silent keys...

...and I left one of the big heat pumps running this nite-- Zoey cooled off, but God Himself only knows what the electric bill will be...

Missing you...

You were my Heart...

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Postby backhoe » 07/ 13/ 10 12:52 am

From my files- a comment by Miss Emily from 2008, about Silent Keys:

Well, if you had wondered why THEG became a Silent Key?

The increasingly unreliable, laughingly misnomered "high speed cable internet" conked out August 12, coming back for an hour the next day.

"Priority repair" was supposed to occur the next day, but when they didn't show up, a call revealed that their "priority" was scheduled for a week away.

Mad hunts for an AOL dialup disk ( Remember when you used to get one a week in the mail? Circuit City had one left, in a bag of trash... ) got Miss Emily's laptop back on slow, slow line.

Much complaining got a promise of a cable guy on the 16th. We'll see.

Slow as dialup is, at least as long as you have a dialtone and a number to call, you can get on line.

Unlike that "high speed cable internet..."

However, it turns out lightning had damaged both modem & router- from The Distaff Side:

Comment by Miss Emily

August 16, 2008 @ 3:02 pm

Our high speed internet is back!!! Teh Yay!

All it took was:

1 hour with the cable guy here
a new modem
figuring out our router was bad
a trip to Walmart for a new router
15 minutes on hold with Belkin (”your call is important to us”)
20 minutes on the phone with a foreign guy to figure out why the new router didn’t work

and voila! High speed cable!!!!

Now I’m off to gorge on the internet…or take a nap.
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