The New Year's Eve Shadow Of The Tandy Hills Thin Man

You are looking at the long skinny shadow of the ever more skinny shadow of the Tandy Hills Thin Man, today around noon.

I thought we were scheduled for clouds and rain today. Apparently I thought wrong.

The Tandy Hills were still being a bit tacky, mud-wise, so I cut the hiking a little short. I was not liking mud sticking to my shoes. That and my right foot pain was paining me. It is getting better though.

Earlier today I blogged about the BIG Box I got from my mom and dad this morning. It was full of oranges.

That blogging rose Nick Beef from the dead to make a comment.

Nick Beef is the headstone next to Lee Harvey Oswald in Rose Hill Memorial Burial Park in my neighborhood of east Fort Worth.

I do not believe Nick Beef is actually buried next to Lee Harvey. I believe Nick Beef bought the plot as some sort of publicity stunt.

And now, on the day before 2011, Nick Beef is still doing the publicity stunt thing, commenting on my blog. I'm sure this will get Nick unprecedented publicity.

After I was done getting stuck in the Tandy Hills mud I headed to Town Talk. Not knowing if it was open. It was.

Even though I'd just gotten a shipment of citrus from Arizona, from my mom and dad, I got myself a big bag of Cuties for only a buck. Among other things.

I think MLK or MBK or both, may be right. My unfortunate weight gain might be traceable to Town Talk. I know having Town Talk in my life has amped up my access to a lot of different cheeses. And chips. Something I don't usually buy.

But.

For example, today, for 50 cents, Town Talk had All Natural Cheddar Tortilla Chips made with Cheddar Cheese, Quinoa, Soy, Flax, Sunflower, Sesame Seeds, Oat Fiber and Brown Rice. Made by some chip maker called Food Should Taste Good.

And I am sure it will. And be good for me. And not make me fat.

I will likely take a bag or two to my New Year's Eve Party. Due to start soon. See you there.

A BIG Box From Arizona In The New Year's Eve Mail

When I went to check the mailbox this morning I was surprised to find a BIG box. From my mom and dad. A very heavy box on which they spent a small fortune to mail. Whatever was inside was heavy and shifted around when I moved the box.

Jars of raspberry jam was my first thought. I figured, due to the weight and how I could tell it was small items rolling around, that no clothing items were inside.

My one longtime reader may remember that on Christmas I opened a box from my mom and dad to find some shirts and shorts that were a tad too small for me. When my mom asked if they fit I basically said I needed to go on a diet.

Which I am now on. I am making rapid progress towards being able to comfortably wear the shirts and shorts I got from mom and dad this Christmas.

So, a few minutes ago I opened the fresh, incoming BIG box. And what did I find...

Oranges, lemons, grapefruit and a shirt. Size Large. It fits. But not so much so that it will be baggy when I fit into the shirt and shorts that are currently not baggy.

This is my first Arizona citrus since mom and dad delivered a lot of lemons, oranges and grapefruit, almost two years ago, when they were here the first week of 2009.

Previous to that, I hauled Arizona citrus back to Texas myself, in April of 2006, direct from Phoenix, where my mom overloaded my carry on backpack with oranges. This created a very entertaining debacle when I went through security, losing my cell phone in the mayhem.

I know some of you reading this are thinking to yourself that I am awful lucky to have such a nice mom and dad.

You would be correct in thinking that. I am way luckier than you could possibly know.

The Warm Early Morning Of New Year's Eve In Texas After A Night Of Nightmares

As you can see, looking out the window, I am up way before the dawn of the last day of 2010.

The last day of 2010, in Texas, is already semi-warm, as in 62 degrees, according to my AccuWeather temperature measurer.

Apparently rain is on the schedule for today, with incoming freezing, starting the first day of the New Year.

I had myself some fun nightmaring last night. Including one where I watched two hoodlums breaking into my vehicle. I was helpless to stop them.

Soon after that I was riding my bike, fast, pedaling past Betty Jo Bouvier, who was in her yard, pulling weeds. I turned a corner and was at my house, which seemed to be my sister's house in Kent, sort of gone to seed. Parked beside my sister's house was my cousin Scott, in a Volkswagen bug.

I found this very disturbing. I've not seen cousin Scott since 2002. I was instantly perplexed, in my nightmare, as to why he was parked by my house, which really wasn't my house. And his presence was stopping me from heading back to Betty Jo Bouvier's to help her pull weeds.

The last I paid any attention to cousin Scott was a couple years ago, when he retired from the Seattle Times. He then took a cross-country trip in his Mustang convertible, going from the most northwesterly point in Lower 48 of America to the furthest distance to the southeast. Which meant cousin Scott started his trip at Cape Flattery on the Washington Olympic Peninsula, reaching his final goal at Key West, Florida. Visiting every one of his relatives along the way.

Except for me.

Cousin Scott had an aversion to driving through much of Texas, so he sort of skirted this state via Oklahoma, only entering Texas somewhere near Paris, quickly escaping to Arkansas, and avoiding me. I was able to follow cousin Scott's progression back and forth across America via his Scott's on the Road blog.

So, tomorrow starts the New Year of 2011. I think it will be a very good year. I think that, pretty much, at the start of every New Year, demented optimist that I am.

I am hoping to go hiking on the Tandy Hills today. One last time in 2010. If the rain does not arrive too soon.

The City Of Fort Worth's Personal Ad: I Am Fort Worth & I Am Looking For Someone To Love Me

Earlier today, on my Washington Blog, I blogged about an amusing article in the Seattle P-I in which the article writer conjured up a personal ad for the City of Seattle based on the various lists, rankings and polls that had Seattle on them, to varying degrees of it being a good or bad thing.

Seattle's Personal Ad went like this...

"Even though I'm getting up there in years (I was born in 1869), I'd like to find a young companion. A college student, maybe. Don't let my age fool you; I've been told I'm pretty cool and fairly romantic. I've also been told I need to work on my personal appearance, but I'd rather read a book than pick out clothes. Our first date probably wouldn't be too extravagant, and we'd probably have to take the bus. (I'm not a good driver, and bad traffic only makes things worse.) We'd probably go for coffee, or maybe to the nation's best cocktail bar. Or maybe we'll just read a book. Did I mention I like to read? You should know I'm especially good with men and extremely gay-friendly."

Fort Worth's Personal Ad goes like this...

"Even though I have been around for parts of 3 centuries I am quite immature in many ways. I have a big brother who I have always been envious of. He sort of dominates me. I've always felt like no one notices me. However, I have been told I am very easy to live with. I don't like to read, am a bit overweight, oh, all right, I'll be honest. I'm fat. I'm not the prettiest thing to look at, a little rough around the edges. Let's just say my infrastructure could use some work. I don't require indoor plumbing. I don't mind outhouses. Did I already mention I don't like to read? I also do not like to exercise. I do like fried food, donuts, catfish and anything BBQed. I can take you out to the world's biggest honky tonk. I do have some self esteem issues. I have been known to give away favors in exchange for promises that are never delivered. I have had more holes drilled in me than any other place in America. I'm a very cheap date. Really easy to bribe. I'll do just about anything for you if you dangle the right amount of cash in front of me. Did I mention I don't like to read?"

Okay. That was fun....

In Texas With Theodore Ryan & Ruby Jean Jones

You are looking at the twins, Theodore Ryan and Ruby Jean, born, I think, 2 weeks ago. In the Washington town that goes by the name of Tacoma.

The Jones Twins look awfully tiny to me.

The twins were sent to me, in Texas, via email.

I have not been informed, currently, what exactly is my relationship to TR & RJ. I know I share no genetic connection. However, that just seems like a technicality. Having the same last name cements the relationship deal.

I'm sure that's how it works.

I remember the last time I held a baby in my arms. It was sometime in the spring of 2000, in Mount Vernon, Washington. I held the baby for about a half a minute when it threw up all over me. Those watching the baby throw up all over me found it amusing. I did not.

The last time I tried to change a baby diaper was sometime in 1981. I was baby sitting my nephew Jason. His diaper needed changing. These were old-fashioned diapers, not those new-fangled Pamper things.

I laid my nephew down on newspapers and removed the bad diaper. I got the horrendous mess cleaned up, but then could not figure out how to install the replacement diaper. I called one of my roommates, at work, and she came home and finished the job for me.

Later that night, after Jason's parental units had picked him up and returned home, I got a call from my now ex-sister-in-law asking me why Jason had newsprint all over his butt. Said in a very accusatory tone.

And now here is more trivia.

The roommate who helped me change the diaper, way back in 1981, moved to Ada, Oklahoma one month before I moved to Texas. A little over two years after that a mutual friend from Washington flew in to D/FW. I drove her up to Ada the next day. I so clearly recollect sitting outside, up in Oklahoma, and remarking to my two other Washington natives, something like "if 20 years ago I had told the two of you that in 20 years hence we would be sitting under a pine tree in Oklahoma sipping wine, would either of you have been able to conceive of a scenario where that could possibly make sense?'

Neither could.

And now there is Theodore Ryan & Ruby Jean.

What a world.

So little of it I understand.

Jumping To The Ground & Jogging Through My Dangerous Fort Worth Neighborhood

You are with me looking down to the ground from about 30 feet in the air, looking through the bars of my patio prison cell.

No, I am not contemplating jumping.

What I was contemplating when this picture was taken was going jogging. And doing so in a novel, never before attempted way. As in go jogging right from my front door, rather than drive to a park to jog on trails.

I  am now back from this experiment. On the plus side, it saved time to not drive anywhere. On the non-plus side, I like jogging in a park better than sidewalks with cars in close proximity.

And my chronic aching right foot woe came back, which contributed to the jogging not being what I'd call a huge success.

It was warm enough to do the jogging in shorts and t-shirt. I currently have my windows open, due to the fact that I did jog enough to get a bit overheated.

Windows open on December 30. I do not remember this being doable in my previous Decembers in Texas.

This morning I blogged on my Washington Blog about an amusing thing I read in the Seattle P-I. That being an article that used the various lists, rankings and polls on which Seattle appeared in 2010 to compile what a City of Seattle Personal Ad would be like.

This had me wondering if I had enough creative juice to conjure up what a City of Fort Worth Personal Ad would be like.

This might be difficult to conjure due to the fact that Fort Worth does not show up on all that many of those type lists. And the ones it does show up on are usually not all that flattering.

Or it is some bogus thing.

Like a D.C. lobbying group, naming Fort Worth as one of the Ten Most Livable Communities in America. Which had Fort Worth, without looking too closely at the validity of the 'award,' having a city-wide celebration to celebrate this tremendous honor, while other, more informed places, like Tacoma and Pierce County, politely said thank you and then ignored it. With no city-wide celebration.

I'll see if I can come up with a City of Fort Worth Personal Ad. Later today. If I have the energy.

The Last Thursday Of 2010 Dawns Pink & Warm In Texas

The dawn of the last Thursday of 2010 looks like it might arrive with the sky clear of clouds, but I can not tell for sure at this point in time.

I can tell that the dawn of the last Thursday of 2010 has arrived warmly, as in just a couple degrees shy of 60.

In other words, no furnace running this morning.

Which pleases me, because I think it is the furnace running that somehow gets my eyes watering and makes looking at the computer screen a bit blurry until the eyes leaking situation gets under control.

The Scrabble Queen of Washington is heading to Long Beach today. That is one of my favorite locations on the Washington Pacific Coast. Apparently low tides will be turning the New Year's Day weekend into a razor clam digging opportunity.

Digging for razor clams, on a beach with thousands of other clam diggers is quite fun. In summer. I can't imagine doing this in winter. It seems like it would be very wet and cold.

The Scrabble Queen is bringing her iPad along so that she can continue beating me at Scrabble. I miss my Scrabble if I don't get a daily dose. It helps greatly with firing the synapses of parts of my brain that usually lay dormant.

The sun has risen quite a bit higher and I still can not tell if the sky is clear. I can see that it is glowing pink, as you can see in the latest picture, looking outside from one of my frost-free windows.

The conditions out there are such that we are under a wildfire alert in North Texas.  The way it is glowing out there right now it looks like a wildfire is in the neighborhood.

Anyway, all I know for sure that lays ahead today for me is a bowl of chili from a big pot of the State Soup of Texas that I made last night.

Flags At Half Staff For Policewoman Murdered In Arlington With Hay Pipes & Elsie Hotpepper Singing

I have seen a lot of fire hoses today. But that is not a fire hose that was laying on the ground in Veterans Park in Arlington today. Instead it is some sort of barrier made of hay-like material held in a hose shape by black mesh.

The "hose" leads to the Veterans Memorial, where, if you look close, you can see the flags are at half mast.

I wondered why, for a moment, and then remembered the rookie policewoman, Jillian Michelle Smith, only 24 years old, murdered Tuesday within 20 minutes of responding to a domestic violence call, where she was trying to protect an 11 year old kids from an armed man, who killed 2 others, in addition to the police officer, before fleeing.

The killer was later caught.

My phone rang as I neared Veterans Park. I had trouble getting the phone out of my pocket. By the time I was successful in that endeavor it had already gone to voice mail.

When I was securely parked I flipped open the phone to get the message. It was Elsie Hotpepper. A long, convoluted message about lies, betrayal and fraud. And then Elsie started singing some sort of jingle, like a parody of the Dr Pepper song. It was unsettling.

I called Elsie back, but I got her voice mail.

Then a few minutes ago Elsie Hotpepper called again. I successfully answered, because my phone was already out of my pants. Elsie sang her Elsie Hotpepper jingle again. It is quite catchy. And then she asked me a question. Or two.

And now let's change the subject to the weather. It is currently 70 degrees out there at 6 minutes before 5. I have my window open. I was overheated after talking to Elsie Hotpepper.

My Peaceful Wednesday Afternoon Has Been Interrupted By Fort Worth's Finest Putting Out A Fire

I got back here about 1, after going to Arlington to Veterans Park. And Pantego to ALDI. When I returned to my neighborhood my way to my domicile was blocked by a wreck. This has never happened before. It was an odd location for a 2 car collision.

Then, after lunch, I was peacefully minding my business, trying, desperately, to beat the Scrabble Queen of Washington at Scrabble, before moving on to more serious matters, when suddenly all hell broke loose with the noise from big trucks hitting loud brakes and more sirens. And lots of horns honking.

The noise seemed to escalate and was quickly getting on my nerves. I called Miss Puerto Rico to ask if she knew what all the noise was about. Fire, she told me.

So, I grabbed my camera and exited. Not bothering to put on shoes. Because I didn't think I was going far. I was wrong.

When I got a view of the street I saw the line of fire trucks and emergency vehicles you see in the picture above. And then I saw smoke.

I walked towards the smoke, along with a lot of other people.

Dozens of Fort Worth's finest were on the scene, in full action mode. Some were already in the building. The fire hose was not yet spouting water, but foam had been sprayed. I saw flames flickering out of the building in two locations. Oddly, there was no smell of smoke in the air.

A fireman got on the roof and attacked it with a chain saw, so that water could get at the flames. Soon the flames were extinguished, but smoke continued to spew. Soon it was clear that the conflagration was under control.

This is the second time I've seen Fort Worth's finest up close, in action.

A couple years ago I was walking over to Miss Puerto Rico's when lightning struck a roof, quickly causing the building to catch fire.

I have never understood how the Fort Worth firemen were so quickly on the scene. I saw the lightning strike as I walked to Miss Puerto Rico's. I then called her to tell her that I think lightning struck one of the buildings. She had already gotten an emergency call. I walked towards the building. By the time I got there the firetrucks were already on the scene. And firemen were on the building.

I have never figured out how this was possible. Maybe they were already there on another call. Miss Puerto Rico has never gotten an explanation either.

I'll likely hear the details of today's fire later.

Mimi The Pit Bull's Owner Steven Woods Not A War Veteran After Thousands Of Dollars Bilked To Save Mimi

That is Mimi the Pit Bull, all gussied up and ready for church. Church is where Mimi needs to go, to pray for forgiveness for the sins of her owner, Steven Woods.

In October, just after Veterans Day, a minor scandal erupted in Fort Worth when it was made news that Mimi had been sentenced to death, on Veterans Day, for attacking an elderly neighbor.

Mimi was described as the therapy dog of a disabled Veteran, badly wounded in either Iraq or Afghanistan. I forget which.

A lawyer, Randy Turner, felt sorry for Steven Woods and Mimi's plight and offered his services, pro bono. The public responded to the sad tale, raising more than $17,000.

The story of the City of Fort Worth sentencing a War Vet's Therapy Dog to death, on Veterans Day, convicted on flimsy evidence, went national, giving Fort Worth yet one more black eye in Fort Worth's reputation with the rest of America.

Well. Apparently the City of Fort Worth has been unfairly besmirched in this particular incident.

WFAA, that is Channel 8, on your D/FW TV dial, reported Monday that there is no record with the Office of Veterans Affairs that Steven Woods served overseas. His only connection with the military is that he had served in the Arkansas National Guard.

Steven Woods' Attorney, Randy Turner, is now his former attorney.

Apparently Steven Woods has been cited on 3 previous occasions over attacks by his pack of dogs, including a 64 year old woman who was seriously injured by 4 pit bulls. On that particular attack, Steven Woods left his house to come to the rescue, kicking one of this dogs to stop the attack. In other incidents police had to pepper spray two of Woods' pit bulls. And in another incident, Woods got testy when a neighbor confronted Woods after Woods' pack of pit bulls was chasing children.

I don't know if there is any plan to return the thousands of dollars to the victims of this fraud, who good-heartedly came to the rescue of Mimi. And her undeserving owner.