Category: FYI

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Travel Tip

Ottawa Mounted Police Charge Horses IntoCrowd, Disabled Elderly Woman Using WalkerTrampled Reported Killed, Police ClaimHer Walker Was Bicycle

“Shortly after the police mounted the charge and trampled the crowd, the Ottawa Police claimed via Twitter someone threw a bicycle at one of the horses. Video of the incident shows it wasn’t a bicycle, and it was not thrown, it was the mobility walker of the deceased victim as she was trampled by the horses.”

Do not EVER visit Ottawa, folks, at least not until the entire police department is scrubbed from top to bottom, and the city’s government razed to the ground and rebuilt from scratch. Sure, there MAY be A decent cop left in the OPD, but if so, he’s not all THAT decent, because he’s still a part of the OPD. I do not care what excuses they come up with (“No one was seriously hurt” meaning “Not one of US!” and “That mobility walker was a bicycle, and that disabled old lady threw it at a cop.”), the entire force should be disbanded and replaced with decent human beings.

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Saw the Headline and Immediately Thought, “Democrat, right?”

Right.

Parents, 12-year-old say Abby Broyles verbally ‘accosted’ kids at Valentine’s party

And, filed under “In vino veritas,” this lil pull quote:

“According to multiple accounts of the evening, Broyles became intoxicated and spoke derogatorily to some of the girls. She allegedly called one girl an “acne fucker,” which prompted the girl to leave the room in tears. Broyles allegedly called another girl a “Hispanic fucker” and another a “judgy fucker.”

“At one point, Broyles allegedly vomited into a laundry basket and onto one girl’s shoes.”

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Eprep Isn’t “Once and Done”

And involves a LOT more than just the time I spent today reorganizing and resupplying/rotating out/in items in both my EDC bag and BOB. Need also to recheck the pantry (for “shelter in place”–the most likely scenario), our PII folders for quick evac, GOOD-y boxes*, update FAKs and trauma pack, etc., etc.

In fact, for “shelter-in-place” scenario, a LOT of supplies need to be checked/updated. Update will? Yeh, but that’s a bit down on my list.

*GOOD-y Boxes: “Get Out Of Dodge”-y *heh* include more food, clothing, etc., as well as places to quickly file documents cleaned out of the safe, hard drives (which include ebook copies of much of my hard copy library, pictures, etc.), notebooks, etc.

The difficult thing about GOOD-y Boxes is maintaining enough transport space in vehicles. *heh* Have to leave room for pets and their carriers (in the case of the cats) and supplies.

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Never Thought of That Before. . .

Just read a narrative describing some “eastern Über-urban greenhorns'” first experience tacking up and riding horses. I had never before considered just how intimidating horses could be to someone from such sheltered backgrounds. *shrugs* It had just never occurred to me.

*heh* Further descriptive narrative from short “horse trek” event: “Watch that back leg so he can’t cock his guns and [‘cow’-] kick you, and mind yer back when you pull off the bridle so he can’t bite you. . .” Yeh, probably the second and third lessons taught me by one cantankerous old guy. The first one was memorable (and I still remember it when the weather changes): watch your feet–or better yet, the horse’s feet.

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My Ever-Expanding World!

Left the house for the first time in nearly two weeks this morning. Went 10 yards. Installed new headlamp in Son&Heir’s car. Came back in. That’s enough for this week.

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How to Deal. . .

. . . with the loss of a loved one.

After her “sudden cardiac death” experiences, I used to wake up every night just checking to make sure my Wonder Woman was still breathing. I do so less often, now since, she has managed to live another 23 years, and thrive. This AM, I got a reminder of those “SCD” experiences and the aftermath was in my FarceBook feed (yeh, there are some folks I seem to only be able to stay in contact with that way. *shrugs*). A writer, former actual rocket scientist, whose books I have enjoyed and whose conversational abilities have lightened FarceBook, let folks know that she awoke this AM to find her husband’s body cold and lifeless beside her.

My sympathy for her loss was colored by a reawakening of those memories of nightly checks to make sure my Wonder Woman was still breathing. Those memories in no way lessen my sympathy for her circumstances. On the contrary, I feel the weight of her loss perhaps more greatly.

Processing. . .

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*shrugs* Sometimes — OK, Rarely — BrE Just Makes More Sense

For example, the Standard British English pronunciation of “echidna” is much more mellifluous than the Standard American English pronunciation.

Offhand, that’s about all I can think of that makes more sense in BrE. *heh*

(OK, OK, I suppose one could argue that the BrE silliness of calling a kitchen oven a “cooker” makes at least some sort of sense. . . in a rather vulgar sense — and I do mean “vulgar” in the nontechnical linguistic sense of “language of a lower order,” not in the vulgar, actually degraded, and flat-out wrong contemporary sense of “profanity” — which is also most often used in a degraded, and flat-out wrong sense nowadays. *sigh*)

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RIP, Olde Pharte Tom

Well, Jaxson (Max’s son, hence the spelling) has departed this vale of tears for The Land of Catnip and Sunshine Snoozes. Good cat. Known a lot of cats, and I can think of no more cuddly tom or one with a more engaging personality. It has been almost a decade since he last felt like playing fetch, but the memories of his lap massages and vocalizations are a comfort. We made his last days as comfortable and filled with care as he allowed, and he went gently into that good night.

‘Bye, buddy.

Jaxson-2010
Jaxson, 2010
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Olde Pharte Stuff. . .

. . .only THIS time Olde Pharte Tomcat stuff. Old guy (going on 19 years) has developed a skin condition. Petting him (while he was in his Demand Position, my lap) resulted in well-urined jeans, so. . . a soothing bath was in order. For him. Yeh, soothed his skin condition (for now; will require followups), but means, shucky darns *heh*, he’s avoiding my lap, now. Yeh, what a burden to bear: having non-cat-blocked access to my lil laptop.

He’s parked right in front of a heater vent, smartycat.

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*yawn*

Not even toothpicks help. (Eyes wanna close; head nod off.) Maybe a siesta, eh? Oh, wait. BP 102/55, pulse 65. Maybe more exercise instead. Or not. *heh*