Showing posts with label A trip to Portland Maine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A trip to Portland Maine. Show all posts

Saturday, June 28, 2014

LET’S SUE THE REPUBLICAN CONGRESS!





I would love to see a class action law suit against each member of the Republican Congress for malfeasance. 

 Congressional Republicans wasted the Nations time and money voting 48 times to repeal The Affordable Health Care Act, knowing full well that the proposal was impossible to pass with a Democratic controlled Senate and a Democratic President holding a veto.  

They shut down the government causing a downgrading of the US world financial standing knowing full well that their effort was for naught.  

They caused serious damage to the nation over a partisan frivolity.  They did not act in the best interest of the electorate, the Nation, nor did they uphold the oath of the position they were elected.

Congress persons do have every right to bring to the floor bills asking for a symbolic vote opposing any law or government action; however, 48 votes on a proposal that can not pass is misuse of public power and position. Shutting down the government and allowing the Government to default on the faith and credit of our Nation and at the same time disrupting the pays and obligations to government workers and federal programs over partisan frivolity is malfeasance.

Would that we could…
the Ol’Buzzard

     


Thursday, March 13, 2014

A TRIP OUT



A TRIP OUT AND BACK - AS IN OUT OF TOWN.

If you ever needed proof that an infallible GOD who built the cosmos and set the planets in motion and oversees the universe doesn’t exist you only need to visit a gynecologist office and see all the women needing medical service.     Even disallowing periods, PMS and menopause; women’s plumbing and reproductive systems break down more often that a 1964 Rambler station wagon.    You would think the perfect creator could have come up with a more trouble free system: or else you have to conclude that he actually does despise women. 

My wife had an appointment with her doctor in Portland (Maine,) about one hundred and twenty mile to our south.  We decided to go down a day early and check into a motel, 



enjoy a good seafood restaurant, 




remain a second night after her appointment and then return home leisurely.    


But as Stephen king wrote in Pet Cemetery: when the baby wandered into the road and just missed being killed by a semi-truck:



It didn't happen that way – he goes on to describe the body of the baby being sucked under the truck. 

A major storm (for this time of the year) came across the mid west and roared into Maine at exactly the hour of my wife’s appointment.   Immediately afterwards we pulled out of Portland in the rain and within half-an-hour we were creeping along the freeway at forty-five miles an hour in a mixture of sleet and rain, which soon turned into snow and sleet.   After leaving the freeway for the final stretch back home we were in a wet-snow storm that slowed our progress to thirty mph. 



About 20 miles from home there is a huge hill to climb and then descend - and this was on our minds the entire trip.  We crested the hill in third gear with no problem and then descended in second gear.   I am so impressed with this little Toyota RAV-4’s handling on ice and snow that I should be a spokesman for the company: the computer controlled independent all-wheel-drive constantly adjusted each tire for the road conditions and made the trip back uneventful.  



We got back at four-o-clock: I fired up the wood stove and then broke out the snow blower to get a jump on the plowing.   After supper we lost electricity, as we knew we would, but got it back about daybreak.  

Early this morning, after a banana and a glass of milk, I tackled the snow clearing.   We received well over a foot in a twenty-four hour period and so it took more than two hours to clear. 

 

Now, back inside – the wood stove is pumping – a hot cup of tea – and all is right with the world.  



I love winter; but I think I am ready for mud season (also known as spring here in the Western Mountains of Maine.)


the Ol’Buzzard