Fasten your seat belts…

December 10, 2012

Ellen/Reid: Fasten your seat belts, your dad is about to go ballistic.

I am disappointed, taken aback and steamed beyond belief about the stinky white gunk this morning floating in the otherwise tranquil little stream behind the house.  You should have a photo of this environmental snafu by now.  How the hell can people dump stuff like this down a storm drain?  It’s the same body of water I watch birds wash themselves in, little fish and tadpoles swim around madly to escape herons and where deer stoop for a drink.   I know it’s only a small stream that emerges from a culvert and that you could jump across without a running start but holy smokes, this is my back yard.  In another 400 yards it empties into McMullen Creek and so whatever damage it may cause here will be multiplied down there.

The white goo that seeped into the stream behind the house. There was no rain to shove it downstream or dilute it; whatever it was stayed this way for most of the day.

It just sickens me that this is how we deem to treat our small chunk of the world.  If Mother Nature has a temper, then it has to be screw ups like this that would set her off.  I sent an email along about the situation with my phone, offered to send an email with a cell phone photo of the white water (and left a voice mail, too), to the pollution control folks at Mecklenburg County but no response so far, which infuriates me.  It is supposed to rain later today, and that will accelerate the problem, literally, by flushing it out of my back yard where it will then become someone else’s problem further down the watershed.  I suppose this is why some of my donations go to the Nature Conservancy, the Sierra Club and the National Wildlife Federation.  Excuse the rant but it drives me nuts.

After you’ve just read the first paragraph, don’t drive me any more nuts by getting me anything for Christmas.  Those iPhone Facetimes with Emma, and your trip to CLT, Reid, are all the gifts I need.  Also, I’ve taken to leaving on the Christmas tree lights at night because when I come downstairs about 5:15 in the morning to make coffee and retrieve the paper, its multi-color glow seems pretty welcoming.  A gift-laden tree it’s not, but that’s okay.  By now you should have received just about everything you’re gonna get.

The newspaper delivery lady got $25 as a holiday gift.  I was up Saturday morning (ugh) about 5:30 and her truck was running in the common area.  I scribbled out the check and carried it outside just as she was getting back into her rig.  It wasn’t much, but enough for her to at least get some thanks.  She delivers the paper like clockwork, rain or shine.  I didn’t say, ‘rain or shine or snow’ because we don’t seem to be on the verge of snow.  Saw that you guys got dumped on in the Twin Cities, Ellen.  Too bad.  I played golf in shirt sleeves yesterday, although don’t read that as trying to rub it in.  Ha.

Reid, you will meet Felicia for the first time when you arrive.  She will meet us at Mac’s for some wings as soon as you step off the curb at the airport.  She won’t go with us to Oak Island, and a word to the wise: we will likely get up pretty early in the morning on Saturday to give ourselves a head start on what should be about a four hour drive.  Those cursed fisher-guides still have not returned my calls.  Hell, we ought to rent our own boat.  If by any chances one of them does call, we may get up really early so we can fish about 11:30 or noon for a half-day.  I’ll be so disappointed if we don’t get out on the water, but at least you can say you’ll have driven through Laurenberg, Monroe, Rockingham and countless other eastern NC bergs.  Trust me, you will see how the other half lives.

Okay.  Outta here.  Work to be done.  Unfortunately, no one to pass the buck to.  Happy holidays!

Big time climate deniers…

November 5, 2012

Ellen/Reid: Was traipsing past the frozen turkey aisle this weekend and at 99¢/lb., the food additive amped-up frozen birds seemed a pretty good deal.  I guess we are coming into that season of gluttony, of which I am only too happy to contribute.  Ellen, Reid and I will do as much of the heavy lifting in the kitchen as you will allow us. 

Reid can bring it in the kitchen. This is a couple of Thanksgivings ago in Hilton Head. He knows his way around pots and pans.

Our one demand is that Emma toddle around the kitchen and look cute-as-can-be in her little self propelled mobility thingy.  The tunes will be cranked up, and the rule is that ‘cooks are allowed to consume wine during the preparation of any and all foods during the duration of such preparation.’  That’s not my rule, but it sounds like a good one.

There is a Carolina blue sky out there this morning but Minnesota-Illinois like temperatures.  Unseasonably cold here but most likely mild by your standards.  The feeders are now stocked with sunflower seed, and the squirrels have resumed their shameless marauding of the bounty.  My pellet gun is at the ready but I seem to have lost a step when it comes to loading/aiming/using the darn thing.  All the fricking rodents need is a couple of seconds to take it on the lam and they seem to be laughing all the way to the cover of trees.  I hope they choke on a seed hull.

We’ll know the results of the elections well before this arrives.  There was a big article in the paper this morning about the tea party.  Zealotry knows no ends.  On the same page was an equally big article about a major meeting of climate scientists here in Charlotte.  They estimated that by 2100, the sea will have risen 39 inches or so, but they caution that they are erring on the low side.  The low side.  The folks here in North Carolina, particularly a consortium of developers on the coastal side, are still big time climate deniers.  I know I rag on that and your dad will never be confused with a rocket scientist, but holy smokes, the nutcases east of here are a testament to poor public education in these parts.  The environment is enough to vote ‘Blue.’  In short order, housing foundations will form new underwater reefs, and scuba divers will be able to swim out and around the 10”x10” treated lumber posts that homes once rested upon.  Mt. Everest will dip below 29,000 feet in above-sea-level elevation.  We didn’t invent idiocy here, but we are damned well perfecting it.

The porch lights were again off for Halloween.  I don’t know that there are more than 3-4 candy-eligible kids in our development, so they probably exported their bags to other neighborhoods with higher densities of children.  I would have eaten all the candy anyway had any been purchased.

For the first time, I paid property taxes by check rather than have them included in the escrow portion of my mortgage payment.  Ouch, ouch, ouch.  That is one big &(*$%# check.  Gag-ola.  But I like this ‘hood and tis’ better than paying interest.  Talk about the acid test of my budgeting powers over the next year.

Reid, I am mystified why the tepid little fleece comforter from the National Wildlife Federation has yet to arrive at your office.  There’s not much to it, probably enough to possibly keep your tootsies warm on a cold night.  But it went for a good cause.

Next Monday is an off day, and a friend at the bank has proposed golf.  I am getting to the point where I think ‘anything but golf.’  Still, it is on the calendar.  It will be another round of abject humiliation.  You should be glad you have other hobbies.