No, I Don't Owe You Diddly.

So it's about the be the start of a new calendar year.

Which means, a new tax cycle.

And apparently the bad economy is hitting local governments so hard, that they are sending assessments to people who live OUTSIDE their jurisdiction.

I live in a small city that at one time many years ago (long before I even lived in the state) seceeded from the county. It happens every now and then, usually because it's a business center and feels it's paying an undue portion of the costs for the larger area without an equally larger say.

Apparently, the county is trying to get some of that money back. Because I've got bills, people. Bills for things I cannot rightly be billed for. Like dog licenses, property assessments, taxes....

Because I already pay all those fees to the city. Where I live. And where all the animals and property that the county is trying to wet their beak on also lives.

I call them, and am told to check the box on the forms that says I don't live in the county. THERE IS NO BOX!!! The lovely response on that? "Oh well."

I e-mail them to complain, I get a response that they do not accept e-mails.

So you know what? I'm just gonna ignore it. They can't rightly seize anything, seeing as they'd have to leave their jurisdiction to do it. And I'd freakin' sue the pants off of them (and it'd be soo easy to win) if they tried.

I know money is tight. But this is ridiculous.

The Age of Random

It used to be that I really wanted to get inside Sasha's head. To know what he was thinking about when he'd get certain looks over his face.

That's of course, back before he was verbal (and I mean verbal. He was always vocal).

Now, I'm glad I can't just be in his head. It's chaos in there.

Since he NEVER. STOPS. TALKING. I know exactly what he's thinking every moment of the day. Even when he's asleep.

We'll be having a nice conversation in the car on the way home from Grandma's. He'll be talking about what he wants for first and second dinners and what kids show he would like to see that evening. I'll ask something innocuous like "would you like peas or green beans?" and he'll say:

"I like...um....Bumble and Cornelius fall down and bounce!....peas."

Because that's a sign of a well ordered mind--self interruption. And that's the way it's been lately. He can't keep his mind on even a sentence before something Christmas inturrupts him. Christmas distraction is making his potty training success take a hit (he will obsess over a picture book or snow globe so long he messes himself).

Poor kid.

Good Intentions, not fully thought through

Occasionally, you get the idea for a really good gift. Something a little different.

I thought of getting the munchkin stuffed animal versions of his dogs.

After all, he loves them. He would like to have them around him at all times. However, the idea of the Hound coming to the grocery store is a bad idea from so many angles it could make your head explode. Being 2, though, Sasha doesn't fully appreciate that.

Hence my bright idea.

And then I came upon the reality of it. And wished I was a "lab person" like everyone else.

Because???

Just try to find a kerry blue terrier and (probably mixed) podengo. Just try. Go to your neighborhood boutique store even.

The truth is, they are too rare for people to bother making plush versions. For the most part.

I did finally find a kerry. As for the other? I've found passable dingos and chihuahuas. Hopefully he understands what I'm going for.

Old photo here. Very old.