Juries

 Have y'all been paying attention to the trial going on?  The one where the woman murdered her three children and the jury is hung up?

I'm reminded of Mark Twain's observation in his work, Roughing It.

The jury system puts a ban upon intelligence and honesty, and a premium upon ignorance, stupidity and perjury. It is a shame that we must continue to use a worthless system because it was good a thousand years ago. In this age, when a gentleman of high social standing, intelligence and probity, swears that testimony given under solemn oath will outweigh, with him, street talk and newspaper reports based upon mere hearsay, he is worth a hundred jurymen who will swear to their own ignorance and stupidity, and justice would be far safer in his hands than in theirs. Why could not the jury law be so altered as to give men of brains and honesty and equal chance with fools and miscreants? Is it right to show the present favoritism to one class of men and inflict a disability on another, in a land whose boast is that all its citizens are free and equal? I am a candidate for the legislature. I desire to tamper with the jury law. I wish to so alter it as to put a premium on intelligence and character, and close the jury box against idiots, blacklegs, and people who do not read newspapers. But no doubt I shall be defeated-- every effort I make to save the country "misses fire." 

Not much has changed.

Stranded

 Reminiscing about 9/11.

My Dad was 67 years old, recently retired, and wanted to see the great American Southwest.  The Painted Desert, Hoover Dam, the Grand Canyon.   He and Mom planned a trip and decided that Los Vegas would serve nicely as a hub for this adventure.  They booked the trip and in early September 2001 got on a plane.

Early afternoon of 9/11 the phone rang.  It was my sister.  "Dad and Mom are stranded in Los Vegas."

I considered that information briefly, weighed options, said "Okey", and hung up the phone.

She called back immediately.  "Did you hear me? Dad and Mom are stranded in Los Vegas!  They got on the plane this mourning, but it didn't take off.  They are back at the hotel. Stranded in Vegas."

I softened my tone. "Sweetheart, do you hearer what you are saying? If I had to make a list of places to be stranded in, Vegas would be at the top. I'm sure that the Old Man has a clean, comfortable room with a TV and a cafe on the first floor."  I continued. "If they were stranded in Jasper, Texas I would get in the car and head west.   They are not, they are stranded in Los Vegas. They'll be fine."

Mom and Dad got home four or five days later. The only thing Dad was upset about was that they would not let him board the flight with his pocket knife. They took his little 3-blade stockman knife that he carried everywhere and he was mightily offended.

Thursday, Again

 Its Thursday morning and not much happening on PawPaw's acre.  What's left of Edouard is dumping rain on east Texas.  We're getting a bit here in central Louisiana and we needed it.

Belle is running errands.  The dawg and I are out in the shop.  Belle has been hungry for chicken pot pie and that is her recipe.  She told me to take out some chicken thighs and she would make a pot pie when she finished her errands.

I'm thinking about the anniversary of 9/11.  It's been 25 years.

Belle and I had been dating for eight months.  I had worked a night shift at the Natchitoches Parish Detention Center, got off work at 5;00 am, went home and fell into bed. Shortly after 8:00 CDT the phone rang.  it was a friend telling me to get up and turn on the TV.

I saw the North tower burning and thought "what the helll?", then watched the second plane hit the other tower.  "That was no accident."  I stumbled into the kitchen, put on a pot of coffee and  spent the  rest of the day curled up on the couch watching television. I had calls from friends and family and got no sleep that day.  At 5:00 pm I reported back to work for another night shift, tired, grumpy and in no mood for standard inmate bullshit. The others on shift felt the same way. It was a quiet night.

Where were you when the world stopped turning?

TS Edouard

 It looks like Tropical Storm Edouard (ain't that cute) has finally been named.

As storms go, Ed is pretty piddling, but he will bring wind and rain to Texas.  It looks like he is heading toward Dallas, which is in the throes of a drought, having had no rain in August. The Houston/Galveston/Beaumont area is no stranger to tropical weather and I wish them no ill will, but if you are going to be hit by a storm, this one is the one you want.  If this thing goes as forecast, DFW will get a little rain, which they need.

Watching the Tropics

 On the last day of August, we are watching the tropics.  There is a blob of unsettled weather just south of New Orleans that everyone is expecting to become tropical storm Edouard.    For whatever that is worth.  it is expected to organize, gain strength and come ashore somewhere near the Louisiana/Texas line.  Maybe closer to Beaumont.  who knows.

They are also watching the remnants of Dolly.   It has been a slow season for tropical storms, and I am okay with that.

Pecan Island

 Governor Jeff Landry and Elon Musk made the announcement this week, Elon and SpaceX are going to build a launch facility near Pecan Island, LA.    There are lots of good reasons to build a spaceport on the coast and Musk chose Pecan Island as the place he wanted to build.

Termite sent me this graphic, which deserves wide distribution.

We wish Musk and SpaceX good things and we hope that Louisiana serves his needs and the needs of the broader community for years to come.

Gravel

 We built this shop during the winter of 2017-18 and put down gravel during that winter.  That has been eight years.  Around here, crushed limestone is the preferred driveway material  The limestone dust packs well between the stones and makes a firm driveway that needs very little maintenance.

That is Belle's parking spot, immediately adjacent to the main entrance door. I wanted to get this done before the winter rains set in. My gal is a diehard country girl but at this stage of her life objects to walking through mud.

Filters

 Sometime about the middle of May, we had to buy a new fridge for the house. Belle went online to the Lowe's site and picked out a fridge.  A nice Frigidaire on sale.  Had it delivered.  The fellow who delivered it and set it up was a nice fellow, very professional, did a great job setting it up, connecting the ice maker and walking me through the process.

Couple of days ago, the fridge threw a code on the door panel, telling me that it needs an air filter.

What?  An air filter?  Seriously?  So, we went to Amazon and ordered some air filters. They will be in tomorrow.  Today, I came in and it is throwing another code.  It wants a water filter.  Hence, we have ordered some water filters.

My old fridge stood there for almost 20 years and when Lowes hauled it off it had the same filter in it that the manufacturer had installed.

It is a nice fridge, but it is needy.

Wednesday

 It's hot outside.  Belle is puttering in the kitchen.  Lunch will soon be upon us.  Just another Wednesday in the piney woods of central Louisiana.

I'm being worthless today.  As is my right as an old retired curmudgeon.  I will haul off some trash later, but that is about the extent of my ambition today.  As I scroll through my news feeds I note that it is all Dolly, all the time. That is to be expected, I guess.

The tropics are quiet, almost spooky quiet.  Looking at the list of names for the 2026 Atlantic hurricane season, I note that the name Dolly is on the list.  Strange coincidence.