Hunter Biden, Hunter Biden, free at last

 Just one more thing as Colombo is inclined to say just as you are about to slam the door and flop into the LaZ Boy with a big Phew!

This is from a letter I wrote lately and I wonder if either of you guys have an opinion on it.

This outrage over his pardon is bullshit.  The idea that Joe should be purer than Caesar's wife while Trump is wallowing in sin and leave his son at the tender mercy of the savages he is appointing is crazy.

Sorry to bother you but I am watching CNN alone with nobody to yell at but my cat who refuses to discuss politics.

septic tanks and drain fields

 I can always tell that Beagles is ok because he likes my paintings on fb, usually on a Sunday, and I assume that he can tell I am okay because I make those posts every Monday.

I can't find the incomplete sentence which he cites, but I am wondering about the last line on his post:  happend totop

My post was going to be about the feeling that my people are in charge sometimes and sometimes it feels like Beagle's people THEY are running things.  I was thinking of how I feel lately like an alien presence has taken charge.  Well Trump yes, and his merry band of savages, but what about the murky folks in the hinterlands that put him there.  Why did they do this, what do they want?  

I started it with my Berkely Barb selling days and was going to trace the events between then and now, but I only got as far as my days in Southern Illinois when it was getting late in the morning for me and I titled it with the 1, and was thinking I would continue it with 2, but I never got any kind of response and it was like when you are talking to somebody else and think that your conversation is sparkling and informative and then you look up and you see that they have left the room.

But wait, septic tanks.  I have been out in the country and seen them and talked to people who use them.  But not in much depth because, you know, icky.  I understand when you flush out in the country it goes down some pipe and then into some tank which is sometimes buried and sometimes standing out there in the open, like Pancho's gun, for all the honest world to see.  There are some chemicals in there that I guess sweeten the liquid, and then what?  I know it goes somewhere, but where?  I guess a pump makes sense, but the idea of a drain plain is intriguing.  How far away is it.  Is it a foul smelly plain where no plant dares to raise its head, or it full of luxuriant, well-fed flora.

Mr Google is pulling on my shoulder whispering of information just a few clicks away, but I would rather hear it from Beagles in his storytelling manner. 

I will respond to Old Dog's comments on misposting that watercolor post soon with a long and meandering and mostly pointless recount of my Artistic Journey.  Stay tuned.

The Joys of Rural Living

Thanksgiving went well, until it didn't.  After the guests had left, we noticed the high-level warning light for our septic tank was on.  That means the pump that pumps the used water out of the tank into the drain field was not working.  If this problem was not addressed in a few days, our toilets and drains would cease to function.  These pumps usually last 20 years or more, but this was the third one to go bad on us this year.  I left a message on the septic guy's machine, and he called me back the first thing next morning.  He came out and fixed it straightaway, but it failed again in less than two days.  When I called the guy, he said that this was not normal pump behavior and that something else must be wrong.  Turned out that the pipe that leads from the pump to the drain field was broken, and the water was going back into the tank faster that the pump could pump it out, which caused the pump to overload and shut down.  The septic guy's assistant assured me that it's fixed now, unless something else is wrong, we'll have to wait and see.  I seem to remember that the city sewers in our old neighborhood in Chicago used to back up and flood people's basements from time to time.  The only difference was that that there was nobody you could call to fix the problem.

The good news is that the big lake effect snow event missed us here in Cheboygan.  We got barely a trace, and most of that has melted.

Uncle Ken's last post was disturbing.  It cut off right in the middle of a sentence, and there has been no "part two" to follow his "part one".  I hope this doesn't mean that something bad has happened to him.  Do you know anything about this, Old Dog?

 happend totop

Chilling out

Finally, some seasonably cold weather much to my liking.  The lower double-digits are fine when you're out and about and moving; quite invigorating, maybe not so good if you're stuck in one place and can't get out of the wind.  Builds character, does it not?

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Thanksgiving has come and gone; I trust my colleagues had some familial gathering.  No turkey on the menu in my neck of the woods; nobody likes it so there was chicken and roast beef instead.  I wouldn't have minded some dark meat with gravy but making gravy is a lost art, it seems.  The stuff in the cans just doesn't work for me but I'm becoming more "old school" as the clock keeps ticking.

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Be careful what you wish for, Uncle Ken.  You might not like the sparks from a few new posts regarding your watercolors.  I've already given you the benefit of my constructive criticism (years ago!) and I'll leave it at that.  You don't need validation from me or anybody else as long as you find value in your efforts, so keep on keeping on.