Still packing. DirecTV, phone & DSL canceled. Pipes to be drained in the morning. I think we'll get out of here REAL SOON NOW. We're broke with just enough cash for tolls and a gas credit card to get us there. Wish us luck. We'll need it.
We'll be silent here for a while, most likely. Therefore, be good to yourselves and have a Merry Christmas. Or, if you prefer, Happy Festivus, Kwanzhaa, Channukah, Solstice, Pot Luck Sup for the Flying Spaghetti Monster. We hope you have a wonderful holiday season, no matter what you do or don't believe in, on or about. Have a happy. I'll try to post from Maryland else it'll be after the new year.
Toodles!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Hard Driving Seventeen Inches...
No, Silly. Not me. The blizzard!
Yep, still stuck in Maine. Up to my knees in snow after enduring 30-40 MPH winds driving 17" of the white stuff. It wasn't fit for a flea on a South-fleeing mule. Temps in the teens and the wind chill in the negative numbers.
I know how cold it was . I worked out in it for several hours trying to get ready to leave.
Everything takes four times as long as normal and exhausts me.
Anyway, still here. Still cold. Very, very broke.
Bah humbug.
Yep, still stuck in Maine. Up to my knees in snow after enduring 30-40 MPH winds driving 17" of the white stuff. It wasn't fit for a flea on a South-fleeing mule. Temps in the teens and the wind chill in the negative numbers.
I know how cold it was . I worked out in it for several hours trying to get ready to leave.
Everything takes four times as long as normal and exhausts me.
Anyway, still here. Still cold. Very, very broke.
Bah humbug.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Anyone for an omelet?
Still here in Maine, where it is less than 20°F and falling with 5 or 6 inches of new snow. SWMBO and I have taken turns being sick with colds and then severe bronchitis which has made departure for sunnier climes impossible. In the meantime, there's always the local daily to amuse me:
Click the title to read the rest of the story.
Nearly 260,000 eggs stolen in Maine
TURNER, Maine — Maine State Police asked authorities throughout New England to be on the lookout for an unmarked truck hauling eggs without the proper paperwork as they investigated the theft of nearly 260,000 eggs from a Maine egg farm.
An estimated 259,200 eggs, stacked on 24 pallets and worth about $25,000, were stolen from the Quality Egg Farm of New England in two separate incidents...
Click the title to read the rest of the story.
Friday, December 05, 2008
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Got My Deer...
At approximately 5:07 PM, EST (well after sunset in these parts) I bagged my deer for the year. A buck, about 225 pounds, jumped out into the middle of Broadway near Kenduskeag Avenue. I was trapped in a long line of cars heading out of town (what passes for rush hour around here). No where to go. An oncoming vehicle swerves, then skids into and back out of my lane...
KerBLAM! One second I'm minding my own business and the next I am turning off into a woods road to get out of traffic. I was just thankful the fellow behind me didn't ram me - I had two 30 gallon propane tanks strapped in the rear of the Suburban I had just had filled. Would have been a spectacular blast, that's for sure. I'd have been naught but smithereens, too.
Anyway, went out and took an initial look. Dang it - busted lenses. Went back around to get a flashlight and I can hear thrashing just off the road in the woody verge. No gun. Of course. Look down the road. No one else has stopped. Guess the other car didn't think they hit the deer.
Examined the front end. Not only are the lenses busted, but the interior housing is probably cracked, the plastic interface between the grill and front bumper is shattered and the mounts for the bumper are now smushed. I suspect other components of the energy absorbing front end are probably requiring replacement, too.
More thrashing and bleeting from the woody verge.
Being the possessor of enlightened self-interest and self-preservation, I sat my ass back in my truck and considered what to do. Potential for repairs to exceed the $1000 threshhold for mandatory accident report about 70%. So I dial 9-1-1 and go through the whole song and dance. Dispatcher refuses to believe me when I specify the city police - she asks for details as to where I am. Finally convince her all I need is someone from Bangor P.D. to come by so I can file an accident report.
It'll be a while. Sit tight.
About 30 minutes later a car pulls off behind me, turns on some blue strobe lights and a face appears at my driver's side window, inquiring whether I am OK. After a short discussion, it is pretty obvious that said police officer wasn't dispatched to my site - he was just driving by. In point of fact, he isn't from Bangor P.D. at all -- just a nice young (oh my, how very young he is) Maine State Trooper.
Trooper Bean then inquires as to the extent of damage - I do my song and dance and we both go to the front of the vehicle and look it over. He doesn't think it'll top a grand, so he calls Bangor P.D. and cancels them, then goes into the woods (we could still hear the deer in there) and dispatches the injured animal with his service automatic.
Later, back at his cruiser, he inquires if I want the meat. No tarp in the 'Burb and fully carpeted, and no plans to leave any power on in the house when we head out to the South lands. So, the local homeless shelter will be the beneficiary of my misfortunate meeting with Herr Buck and Trooper Bean.
Pictures of the truck damage after daylight. Maybe. I didn't take any of the deer - too P.O.'d
Yes, I am just fine - merely annoyed and dreading dealing with the insurance company, body shops and all before being able to leave -- snow is forecast for Sunday, darn it. Next week looks to be poor for traveling, too.
And So It Goes...
KerBLAM! One second I'm minding my own business and the next I am turning off into a woods road to get out of traffic. I was just thankful the fellow behind me didn't ram me - I had two 30 gallon propane tanks strapped in the rear of the Suburban I had just had filled. Would have been a spectacular blast, that's for sure. I'd have been naught but smithereens, too.
Anyway, went out and took an initial look. Dang it - busted lenses. Went back around to get a flashlight and I can hear thrashing just off the road in the woody verge. No gun. Of course. Look down the road. No one else has stopped. Guess the other car didn't think they hit the deer.
Examined the front end. Not only are the lenses busted, but the interior housing is probably cracked, the plastic interface between the grill and front bumper is shattered and the mounts for the bumper are now smushed. I suspect other components of the energy absorbing front end are probably requiring replacement, too.
More thrashing and bleeting from the woody verge.
Being the possessor of enlightened self-interest and self-preservation, I sat my ass back in my truck and considered what to do. Potential for repairs to exceed the $1000 threshhold for mandatory accident report about 70%. So I dial 9-1-1 and go through the whole song and dance. Dispatcher refuses to believe me when I specify the city police - she asks for details as to where I am. Finally convince her all I need is someone from Bangor P.D. to come by so I can file an accident report.
It'll be a while. Sit tight.
About 30 minutes later a car pulls off behind me, turns on some blue strobe lights and a face appears at my driver's side window, inquiring whether I am OK. After a short discussion, it is pretty obvious that said police officer wasn't dispatched to my site - he was just driving by. In point of fact, he isn't from Bangor P.D. at all -- just a nice young (oh my, how very young he is) Maine State Trooper.
Trooper Bean then inquires as to the extent of damage - I do my song and dance and we both go to the front of the vehicle and look it over. He doesn't think it'll top a grand, so he calls Bangor P.D. and cancels them, then goes into the woods (we could still hear the deer in there) and dispatches the injured animal with his service automatic.
Later, back at his cruiser, he inquires if I want the meat. No tarp in the 'Burb and fully carpeted, and no plans to leave any power on in the house when we head out to the South lands. So, the local homeless shelter will be the beneficiary of my misfortunate meeting with Herr Buck and Trooper Bean.
Pictures of the truck damage after daylight. Maybe. I didn't take any of the deer - too P.O.'d
Yes, I am just fine - merely annoyed and dreading dealing with the insurance company, body shops and all before being able to leave -- snow is forecast for Sunday, darn it. Next week looks to be poor for traveling, too.
And So It Goes...
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