Why do I have to pay....

You don't.

 Move.

There are huge swathes of land in the Southern Hemisphere where you don't have to pay a penny in taxes. There are even some in the North. Syria for example is currently a tax free zone.

Doctors Without Borders won't charge for medical care.

Insurance is a racket. It is.

Now look around you. If you live away from other housing, don't pay for a fire department. In some parts of the states, if you don't pay, your house burns unattended.

If there is housing near you, think about it. If no one pays, everyone burns. Good luck.

States here mandate car insurance. It should stop. Handle any problems yourself. You
collect money from the guy who hit your car. Good luck.

The freedom you will enjoy in tax free zones is complete. You will pay nothing for roads, electricity,
schools, water, police or "government." Enjoy.

GD's Continued.

Oh. I might as well tell the truth. Great Danes are not dumber than turnips. The owners of the dogs, the dog sitters of the dogs, the beloved-we're dumber than turnips because we love the big idiots.

(For future reference, my husband is referred to as "the beloved.")

Great Danes are sly creatures. You may have to stretch a bit to imagine a gd flirting, but Skype flirts shamelessly with my beloved, especially at dinner time. It's entertaining. The beloved pets Skype, Skype edges forward. The beloved takes his eyes off the dog, the dog moves his foot long head right to the edge of beloved's dinner plate. Sensing an unusual warmth, beloved looks down and finds a big mouth right there. 

Following his genetic heritage, my beloved says in a gentle voice, " No. Skype. Don't eat my food."

Then it starts all over again.

The problem with gds is their size. So, we have tornado weather. Where the hell could I put them?

In the middle of the storm I heard rain pouring in...somewhere. I checked the downstairs window. Nothing. Rain was still falling. I looked upstairs and realized it was coming through the small window up there. I ran up the stairs and started to close the 100+ year old window ( everything here is 100+ years old). Unfortunately the dogs all followed. The landing isn't that big and the animals were spooked.

So, there I was at the top of the stairs surrounded by 300lbs of scared dogs, all of whom just wanted to stay close. It's a miracle no body tumbled down to the first floor.

I'd have hated to try to find a vet just then and I know for a fact that if I fell, Grover would have eaten the telephone.

(He's eaten one already.)

On the care and training of Great Danes part one.

Great Danes, subsequently referred to as gds, require special socialization.
Gds love people. They really do. They love people so much that love avoidance on the part of their human caretakers is absolutely necessary.

Oh, they arrive cute and cuddly. The neophyte owner, fooled by the outsized love of the undersized puppy is lured into unwise behavior.The owner puts the puppy onto his lap, he pats the puppy all the time, he encourages the puppy to play: he also feeds the puppy. The puppy loves his human even more.
Stupid owner lets the puppy sleep on his lap, and on the couch. So cute!

Three weeks later the puppy weighs 140 lbs and can easily eat off the stove.

He also has an insatiable appetite for every item in the house. Because of his love for his owner said owner begins for find underpants, bras, undershirts, dish rags, stockings, socks, smallish rock sculptures, etc. buried in small mountains of gd poop. Generally these items cannot be restored to usefulness.

Should the gds find a cache  of chocolate placed within reach (everything placed under six feet off the floor and not encased in an iron safe is within reach) the owner will begin to understand he has a problem. The $2,000.00 vet bill is a clue, as is the fact that after pouring hydrogen peroxide down the dog's throat, forcing him to vomit and then carting him off to a strange place where strange people torment him, the dog still LOVES his owner.

The dog can sit on the couch just like a person, butt and back legs on seat, front legs on floor. Indeed, he often is mistaken for relative. Does the dog want to do this? Never. The dog insists on sitting on his owners lap.

Should the owner attempt to read, play on the computer, clean or use the bathroom his gd will follow and ask to be petted. Unlike smaller dogs, ignoring the gd is perilous. Your gd will stick his foot long heavy head over book and key board. He will accompany you as you open the fridge, sticking his head in right next to your head. He will drool over the spot you just cleaned and his bathroom habits will astonish you.

The fact is-gds are not the brightest star in the canine constellation.

 I have met turnips with more brains.

My new self

I've been getting a lot of catalogues lately and have decided to acquire a new self.

Self:  Meet new self.

New Self.
I am a vibrant and interesting person who utilizes her time and abilities to the fullest.
After a long varied career in obfuscation, meta-explication and reformulation tabulation computing and electronics, I have designed my new career as a consultant around my many innovative studies into the art of the foible. It's ground breaking work and I have to run to keep up with the demand for my seminars and requests for my mini moments of presence.

Although my schedule is packed, I have, with the help of my new swell phone managed these multiple tasks with élan. So vital is my swell phone that I have had it implanted in my wrist so I need never be out of touch....as if I ever were!

Fitting everything into my day is easy with swell phone. I simply tell it I'm needed, say in Cape Town tomorrow and it instantly makes all the arrangements. All I have to do is stand up. My swell phone bathers me, dresses me, packs my purse and walks me out to the curb to the cab. It even curves time so I arrive precisely at 10:00AM local time unmussed and unfussed.

All the information about my audience is contained in my morning orange juice which I drink in bed.
Swell phone again. I am keyed in to the individual propensities of every person in the room. Did you know the whole human race picks it's nose? A Universal Trait ! The varieties of folding toilet paper are highly varied however....and I know how each and every person does it. Thanks Swell Phone.

I take three whole days a week for myself. I'm greedy, I know it, I do hope my audience understands the need for "me time."

On those days I greet my two sweetie poos at the door. Skippy and Groovie are matching Great Danes thoughtfully provided by my adorable little girl Maggie. Along with my two rescue dogs they make the day an active one!

Thanks to modern science and Swell Phone I have conquered all my "bad" habits. I no longer eat.
I run 60 miles a day and do weights for at least 4 hours every day. I have no wrinkles, thick hair and excellent taste in clothes. I would be happy to tell you all about my new self and to explain how you too can exorcise any foible that may make you a bad bet on the health exchange.

Before dog parks.

Before we had neighborhood dogs. They roamed around and made each other pregnant. That's where puppies came from.
We had a dog named Chuck. My parents never spayed him and so he had an adventurous life.
Recently I went by the old house and noted it was now fixed up. Apparently the owner murdered his wife and went away for a long while. Now he either returned and worked on it or it was sold and rehabbed.
I wandered down to the old play area and heard barking. The path down to the old woods led to long fenced in yards where there had been woods before. It was odd.
Slowly from two yards three dogs came out. They were carbon copies of each other.
They were also carbon copies of Chuck.

In this crevice, the old days live on.

Where are my three readers?

Drat it you all. Here I am, posting away, dispensing gems or wisdom, tossing out concentrated thought and wearing my little aged fingers to the bone. Where are you?

I really really want to incorporate-as in Nancy inc.

Incorporation sounds better and better.
I can vote forever.
I won't die.
I can give as much money as I want to buy politicians.
I can hide my money in really cute places-and I know a surprising number of those places.
I can get tax breaks such as-" asset impairment" and "good will write offs."

Golly good molly.
My assets are so impaired that I expect I'll get back payment from the gov't. ...years and years of my taxes returned. I even have pictures to prove my asset impairment, pictures issued by the gov't itself!

Good will write offs are a breeze. I've been giving stuff away for ages, stuff that's not even used! Why I give original jewelry away all the time. Of course sometimes I have to sneak it into others purses', but hey, they carry it off.

Of course big incorporations get asset impairment to the tune of serious money-millions or billions.
I think it works like this. "Big Mines Inc." has a mine blow up. More than thirty people die. and all the tunnels they dug fall in. People are not as asset, but the hunk of earth mixed with materiel and unmixed with tunnels and equipment is a damaged asset. Thus "Big Mines Inc." have suffered "asset impairment" and don't have to pay taxes on this part of their operation.

Directly following is another "asset impairment." Lawyers.
Lawyers for the families of the miners gather like vultures to sue the big mine. It happens that "Big Mines" neglected to follow excessive federal regulation. They didn't pump air down the mine, they insisted that miners work naked, they forgot that the gas was flammable and dropped a lit cylinder of dynamite down the hole to see what would happen....
"Big Mines Inc." then has to hire a fleet of expensive lawyers to defend against nuisance law suits brought by the bereaved families...and rarely the federal government which, depending on the party in power, may have noticed violations of excessive federal regulations.

All the money they spend defending themselves is anther asset impairment, so that money isn't taxed.

"Good will write offs" comprise the money "Big Mines Inc." spends on a media campaign to alert the world to their good intentions. They run these ads for as long as it takes for the attention to die down and to get themselves bought out by another corporation call "Minerals Gigantica Inc."

Works for them. Why not for me?

Oh dear.

Yesterday, in an effort to stay somewhat current with "modern life," I looked at the Huffington Post.
It's an awful on line paper which I guess is crafted to appeal to everyone. It contains political "news" and total trash.

I'd heard the news, suspected some of the reporting and wound my way down to the bottom.
It appeared that the current thing was Miley Cyrus-a singer whose dad came from Kentucky-who'd preformed at some awards ceremony. She seemed to have managed to shock people.

I clicked on the performance and CNN's commentary. I watched both long enough to gather that the young lady relied on sexual posturing and taking off her clothes. Nothing new there.

A CNN commentator was outraged. Well, that was sort of new.

Today I read the comments of the CNN news manager. She explained that the whole "news" coverage of Ms. Cyrus' "dance" was to improve their ratings. Nothing new there either. Then she lit into the audience of all the news on TV and on line. The audience, in short, comprised idiots.

Is that new?

I am ashamed to have fallen for this ploy and will never again attempt to figure out popular culture.
I knew I'd screw it up.

Winnie the rat slayer or why I love this bitch.

Did I tell you about the rat?

We came home from San Francisco to a quiet house. Well, sort of. I"d heard banging in the closet off the stairs to the basement and when I investigated I noted that whatever it was, it was active and had thrown a taped box of mouse poison to the floor. I should have taken this as an omen, but one can never be sure and we did have a ghost here when we moved into the house.

The old ghost stayed on the stairs up to the second floor though- and he was very well mannered, never threw a thing.

So I instructed John to close and lock the door to the basement.

That didn't take.

The night we arrived back I was a bit wonkey. I went to bed and awoke to Mickey the dog diabetic's tic tak-ing around the house. He was dumping urine. It happens sometimes and the poor beastie can't help it. Aside from his embarrassment, there is a problem with the urine. It's sugar and it hardens to a lovely gloss but as there's not enough of it to coat the entire floor and seal it, it's best to scrub it up. Which I did.

Mick and Winnie went to sleep and I fell over sideways on the couch and passed out.

I woke up. Winnie was drawn up stiff as a statue on the little couch. As I watched she launched herself into space, landed in the dinning room and flashed behind the table.

I heard THUNK, THUNK.

Then an animal foot nicked my field of vision, twitched and lay still.

Winnie came dancing into the room.

I have learned to be very specific with John. Shrill screams move him not, loud cries of pain pass him by, shrieks are beyond his experience therefore he hears them not. You get the picture.

I yelled (very, very very loudly) JOHN  COME  DOWN  HERE.  I   NEED  YOU !!!!!!

Reluctant footsteps later, John arrived and said. "What an unfortunate awakening."

He wandered over to the prone body, eyed it and went upstairs. Then he came downstairs with equipment with which to dispose the corpse.

He looked at the corpse again and walked to the desk. He pulled out a camera and brought it to the spot. He almost took a picture when he thought the better of it. He headed for the desk, rummaged around and hove to again. This time he had a camera and a ruler. He dropped the ruler next to the rat and then he took several pictures.

He checked the pictures, nodded with satisfaction and disposed of the rat corpse. Then he went back to bed.

I thought he was mad.

The next day Barney the exterminator arrived. He discoursed widely on the topic of rats. He doubted we'd had one and was disappointed when there was no dead rodent body on offer.

I went to the desk and pulled out the camera. With some difficulty I located the pictures.

"That's a rat allright," he was unwontedly cheerful. "What a clever man you husband is. This is just what I needed."

I may someday forgive the male race and only take comfort in the fact that the rat was male and Winnie the valiant bitch killed it.

Some things I've learned

What goes in doesn't always go out. This applies to everything from savings funds, to stocks and bodies.

Self interest can't be relied on to motivate anyone. Perception is all. "Anyone" includes dogs.

People are commodities.

Dogs are now "fur people." No one sees this as strange.

Cats are gods.

Check out lanes follow the rules of the universe. The "fifteen items or less" lines take the most time.

An amazing number of people are odd.

Suffering is boring.

A watched pot boils about the time the watcher has leg cramps.

Cooking is not an entertainment. It is a necessity.

Personality tests lie.

Youth is always remedied.

By the time you know something, no one wants to know it.

Statistics keep chart makers employed and thus should be permitted.

Realities differ.

People sincerely against the government should take up arms against themselves.

Time

I note the time listed for the above post is wrong. Where's infallibility?

Starting over in the new world

Google is trying to coerce me into giving them my cell phone number. I keep trying to tell them that I have no idea what the damn number is and I'm too lazy to call someone to find out. They pretend to be worried that someone will blog in my blog and all hell will break loose. Fat chance.

Currently some people are worried about their privacy. Once these electronics got going there is none. One must just count on being so insignificant that no one will be interested. It's a safe bet as far as I'm concerned. Of course any sane person would avoid some words and phrases, but given the accuracy displayed so far by our leaders, I think it's safe to say about anything.

So I will.

Big brother is watching, but as always he's not seeing.

I am reminded of my long ago youth. Setting: coffee house. (Pre Starbucks), characters: hippies, and a guy in white socks staring at a young man reading a Chinese newspaper. Person present who is dangerous, not the guy with the paper.

la vie encore

I'm trying to re instate this blog. One of my three followers is a tad bit cross at finding no writing here. If it works, I'll post much more.

Irritants

Radio interviewers should stick to the phone. Skype makes the speaker sound like he is underwater and    someone is blowing big bubbles behind him.

I don't care if it's free. Radio Canada, NPR and BBC can afford it.

Republicans should go home and get off the grid. All of the grid is subsidized by taxpayers and Repugnants haven't done their work. They think saying "No" over and over and over again is productive.

Repugnants should not use roads, health care, medicine, TV, radios, food, or any goods. All of those items are provided or overseen by the gov't. Surely Repugnants don't want to be takers.

My Senators are bad for my health. I want to abolish them.

Confused

Local farmer is interviewed on national news. He's livid. Gov't should not subsidize corn for fuel.
Gov't should stay out of all business.
 I nod.
Wrong. Farm subsidies are a national duty say farmers.

Business is stashing money in stock market because of uncertainty. Business is stashing money in banks because they don't know what will happen. Smart policy.
I nod.
Stupid people are stashing their money anywhere but the stock market.
I nod.

Wait a minute. News Flash.

Big banks are paying small amounts of money in fines. Essentially they and the bank inspectors were "out to lunch" said commentator.
MMMmmmm. People lost houses to bad banks. People lost money to stock market-though the markets are back up.
Who didn't lose money and houses?
Rich people and rich bankers.

Union busting aka "Right to Work Laws" are spreading. Good for business. Job creators abound.
I nod.
Only job creators aren't hiring much.
It is estimated that the workers are going unpaid. Tips are confiscated. Overtime is unpaid.

Yup. I guess I understand it.

Not pretty.

Why I can't call the exterminator

Some long time ago I was alone in the living room. A small mouse, driven no doubt by hunger, zigged into the room. I yelled and he zagged out. I picked up the phone and called Barney the exterminator. I think I went to school with Barney somewhere along the way and my friend had given me his number.
"Hi Barney," I said. "This is Nancy Blignaut and boy do I have a problem..."
As I described the difficulty to him in my usual way ( dramatic and over-verbal), the mouse skittered into the room again and sat down.
I yelled again.
Barney said, "You've got a real problem there, I'll..."
"He won't run away!" I shouted into the phone. Then goaded by some primal instinct I picked up the jewelry catalogue (Rio Grande makes a nice thick one) and headed for the mouse. Still holding the phone I whacked the mouse with the catalogue.
"He won't die!" I screamed.
I whacked him again.
"He still isn't dead!"
I whacked harder.
Mousie was dead.

"Barney? When can you come over?"

The phone answered,"ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ"

I've been too ashamed to talk about this till now. Barney won't answer my calls either.

Golly.

Ran through the news today. Amazing.
Paul Krugman commented on the use of common politeness  in social interaction. He noted that MidWesterners tended to suffer fools more kindly than others. Well, we do. Some many of us were raised with the notion that others deserve respect because "there but for the grace of God go I" or "you show yourself a jerk when you're unkind." or because "Be polite or I'll spank you." still rings in our ears. He quoted several sources, Jane Austin among them. The phrase "suffering fools gladly" was in play in his article.
The first comment on his post castigated him for his over niceness.

WalMart sold me the wrong insulin. I reported this to the Kentucky Board of Pharmacy and expect that the report is the last I will hear about the incident. For the three of you who read this blog, note. The failure to sell the right insulin indicates a systemic problem in this Walmart store. Be very careful.

Some voice among the chattering classes was raised about violence against women in relation to the murder by rape of a woman in Delhi.

Has no one noticed that the "problem of women" is at the root of most of the culture wars? China and India have a population imbalance that is growing greater by the year. (More men than women) These cultures deal with women by aborting female fetuses, exposing female children, killing women with inadequate dowries and giving away unwanted girl babies en masse.

In the States men continue to fight for control of female fertility.

I note that more women are succeeding in school, graduating from college and competing for jobs. I also note that the minute the general populace realized that nursing was secure and WELL PAID (compared to other work), men flocked en masse to nursing school.

Were I a conservative (thereby a congressperson owned by the NRA) I would raise teachers' pay.
Many men would fight to be teachers and be happy to stand armed in front of a playground, class or school.

I honestly think and have thought for years that the position of women the source of most of the world's conflicts today.