November 23rd, 2015
September 3rd, 2012
Just the facts, ma’am…
This is a chart showing the unemployment rate from 1948 to 2012, marked every six years. You can find the numbers for yourself at the Bureau of Labor Statistics Data page, plug in whatever years you want, and there it is:
Take a look at trends. This is not rocket science…
I’ve been seeing so much, opinions expressed by people who should know better, a handful or more I hear from regularly (maybe not so much anymore!), making statements so far in contradiction to easily discoverable facts, it’s so disturbing, and this mantra of “say it enough and it becomes true” is driving me nuts…
I went on a little Labor Day rant earlier:
And let’s be clear — I have a personal and professional disgust about Obama’s support of coal gasification a la Excelsior Energy’s Mesaba Project, and his fast-tracking SEVEN transmission projects, including “my” Susquehanna-Roseland and CapX? 2020 Hampton-Rochester-LaCrosse (What does Obama’s Xmsn push mean?), and then there’s fracking… I spend hours writing the White House (rattling the cage enough to get a call from Lauren Azar!), the campaign, and pieces here, and you all know about that disgust in detail, but the alternative? Romney is so repulsive, repugnant that I have no words, and I am going to have to hold my nose, and vote for Obama the corporate toady. But more than that, if there’s any chance Romney could get in, it’s time to act and do what I can to keep that from happening. It’s time. I now feel I have to kick into gear and do more, the prospect of Romney getting elected is more than I can bear, and it’s a lot more than Seamus:
It’s a lot more than giving my Social Security to Wall Street, or Romney and Ryan’s desire to eliminate Medicare (though having health care in a few years is something I am so looking forward too). This is a “Drill, Baby, Drill” guy, a proponent of nuclear power, his Energy Plan is embarassing, that he put something like that out in public, OH MY DOG, and yet, people aren’t rolling on the floor laughing? WAKE UP! Read the stupid thing:
How is it that someone this monumentally stupid, look up vacuous and there he is, he and his handlers, how can he be deemed Presidential material? Did you see his facial expressions during his big speech last week? OH MY DOG! Scary… utterly phony.
And they’re calling this election close. How is it that people I know and respect and care about can have their heads SO implanted? In large part, I think we’re seeing the result of our “educational” system, zero critical thinking abilities… So it’s time to do more than hitting reply and send the Obama team scathing emails about their horrible policy positions (don’t worry, I’ll be doing that too). But its time ramp up the challenge to the falsehoods that are being tossed about, over and over, in an effort to make it true. I just can’t stomach it anymore. I’ve seen one too many “Obama is responsible for this mess” rants. I’ve had enough.
Again, Dog grant me the serenity… and this situation, yes, we do indeed have a situation, this is something that raises the obligation humans have to change the things we can. Onward!
July 9th, 2012
Here she is, Rhea, a German Shepherd at the Humane Society of Goodhue County and she needs a home!
I’m on the Board of HSGC, and tour regularly looking for those special dogs that grab me, yes, it does happen, three times so far! I’d seen her a week before, when I brought in Kady-Kate for toenails, this was before Rhea went off to be spayed, and she was my kind of grrrrrrl (and had those pangs… hmmmmm… 3 dogs… one more??? FOUR dogs? No can do in City of Red Wing, 3 is the limit.).
She’s a 3 y.o. GSD. She’s now been spayed, and as a part of that, had bloodwork done and now we know she’s not just any shep, she’s a special shep, young, beautiful classic coloring, perky, and she has EPI. That’s Endocrine Pancreatic Insufficiency, meaning she needs the EPI drug to help her process her food, and she’ll need it for the rest of her life. It’s fairly cheap, and she should do fine as long as she’s taking it.
To adopt Rhea, contact the Humane Society of Goodhue County:
Phone 651-388-5286. Because she’s off recovering from spaying, she’s not on site, but let them know you’re interested in her and they’ll set up a meeting.
She’s a diamond in the ruff, she needs training, some love, and YOU! Just look at that face:
Is this a shep or what?
April 4th, 2012
In today’s STrib:
When I started driving truck in 1983, few companies would hire women, and the crap we had to put up with was disturbing. But those companies that would hire women knew the good deal they were getting and consistently hired without a hassle. Make no mistake about it, I loved to drive, it fit my personality well, nothing is better than heading west through Wyoming on a beautiful Wednesday or Saturday morning, looking for antelope butts on the horizon, waking up, a 2 or 3 step “commute” to work, with a quart cup o’ coffee or two going down the road. Yet I hated it at the same time, particularly on the receiving end, people who ordered the stuff but didn’t seem to want it and made it a chore to get unloaded. It’s an addiction, and one that’s hard to break, that’s why I’m not fit to work for anyone and need road time — this “job” now is perfect that way. On the other hand, I feel all those miles, to say I’m “high mileage” is an understatement, and my back, L rotator cuff, and hip are forever screwed up, glucosamine a necessity, movement is difficult and I’m in constant pain. Those days had a lot to do with my going into law, and were the way I paid for a B.A. – the pay is great but try getting through college in a truck, class between trips to CA, faxing assignments in… I don’t know what I was thinking and don’t know if I’d do it again knowing how hard it was.
You drive that thang?
I pulled into the Hammond truckstop,
tired, beat and worn
Feelin’ every bump in the 800 miles
I’d put on since dawn.
As I backed it up and I hit the brakes,
the cowboy next door yelled,
“Ohhh, baaaa-by, you drive that thang all by yourself?”
I took a quick look around the cab,
there was no one hiding there.
Just all my worldly possessions,
and me sittin’ in the chair.
He saw me pull in, he saw me back up,
and yell at the boss on the phone.
Tell me, why don’t he think I’m able
to drive this thing alone?
I’m the large car passing you by
don’t gawk, wink, or bat an eye,
‘cuz I’m a busy woman
with loads of things to do.
I’m the large car passing you by
and bubba, don’t you be surprised
I do this just as well,
and maybe even better than you!
February 10th, 2012
I know, TMI, but our dear Summer-doggy really did it this time.
Three months ago or so, we blamed Little Sadie for chewing the tails off the Wubba, we found it tail-less on the floor of the van, lost until this appeared at the “tail” end of a “Summerhenge” a couple days ago:
SUMMER ATE IT… OH MY DOG!!! … and it took months to go through… so DUH, ex post facto we checked the van, and there are indeed two of the tails still missing…
Are they in the dog?
Just now, all three were in the van for a bit when we went to lunch, and here’s what we found on taking them back into the house: NO LEASH!
SUMMER!!!! There is no trace of any part of the leash in the van, not a thread. This little red piece is all that’s left.
SUMMER!!!! We can’t afford surgery on you! Now what? And there’s no vet on duty tomorrow… we shall see…
For now, she’s on the floor in her favorite spot, snorin’ and fartin’ as usual, always under my desk or she shoves the lamp out of the way so her big butt fits in the corner. We’re supposed to feed her canned pumpkin, that’s supposed to be good for moving things around. And call if emergency…
It’ll probably appear in April!