My Incredibly Unremarkable Life
A Journal (more or less)

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Had a call a bit ago--it was the supervisor for the maintenance crew, about my complaint yesterday.

Now--I have lived in the Deep South long enough that my speech patterns have most of the local casual accents. And I have lived in this location since 1976. It helps to be regarded as "local."

Anyway, the guy acknowledged the problem, mentioned how expensive a rebuild would be, and I think I have him talked down to a warning stripe--maybe even Bots Dots. He suggested I nag at my local councilman, and I shall--except that I'll lose the "local" aspects in my speech. (Said councilman has NOT spent most of his adult life in the South.) Actually, I regard him as a power-hungry whatever, who cannot be bothered with concerns of those who do not live in classy ssubdivisions. (Yes, I've talked with him before.)

I shall also run through a mental list of people I know who might put pressure on him.

(Maybe I'll get up a petition.)

But that's just background.

While we were shooting the breeze outside, my little part-albino raccoons wandered into the yard. He's a good 'ol boy and recognized the coloring differences immediately. And then Mama meandered over. She is almost totally golden.

That did it--he went and got his camera, sat on the step as I tossed out goodies, and got pictures of them.

As he left he said he couldn't wait to get them on the computer.

Now back to unpacking.

(Reminder--don't mess with old ladies. Our testerone level rises with age.)

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