Good Morning Ted and Jody:
Nancy continues to show signs of improvement—subtle, but signs none-the-less. As predicted, she is now able to do the lateral exercises without my pretending to help her move (reminds me of the classic parent pretending to hold up the bicycle the first time a kid takes off on his or her own). It is going to be a while before she discards the walker for a cane. But that day is coming. That is good, for I will need the walker by then.
Rain replaced the snow yesterday evening as the temperature rose a bit. Consequently, we have less than half the snow we accumulated (less than half of 2 and ½ inches isn’t very much. However, I don’t know what we expect when there are places the snow here simply doesn’t bother to go. It never falls on one side of the house, or all sides; there seems to be a foot abutting structures in which snow just will not stick. Given that is the unheated garage in the photo, heat from the house is not a likely explanation. No, a more plausible explanation is as the snowflakes fall, they know not to fall on certain places because monster snow flake eaters live there—alongside houses and garages. So, they avoid those places like the plague. Yes, that is a much more reasonable explanation than heat, wind or the like. Besides, the 115th Congress will more than likely repeal all the laws of physics once they discover that Obama believed in them. So, we best hold on to non-logical or scientific explanations for things, for that is all that will be left. (Strange, I turned a paragraph about weather and snow into a political rant. I must be weirder than I thought).
Speaking of snow, the Dwarf Valencia Orange tree I have had for eight or nine years in a ten-inch pot in the front window is ignoring all of that and blooming rampantly. A few months ago, I took all the ripe oranges off the tree and it stood there defiantly for a while, then one bloom appeared and turned into a green, baby, orange. Then another appeared, and another and another until the tree is decked out in blossoms and veracious sizes of green, baby oranges. I water it regularly, give it plant food now and again, but largely just enjoy it when I walk through the room it is in. I would re-pot it and give it more room, but it tends to spread as it is and I hate to have it think the whole room is its and its along. There is, after all, a lemon and coffee tree in the room along with smaller cousins in the violet, bamboo and orchid families. All seem to enjoy the semi-Mediterranean climate our heat pump provides year round. I’m sure that if the heat pump ever went on strike for higher wages or better working conditions, the plants would all pack their bags and call a shuttle to PDX for a flight to more stable climes.
I am appending the next installment in Amanda’s saga. It seems this is turning into a story of sorts with a plot even potentially emerging.
Warmest regards, Ed
Edith Gunderson Recovers Four Days After Christmas (6th in the Amanda saga)
Fiction in 706 words by T. Edward Westen, 2016
Edith Gunderson had never been sick a day in her life, not until Christmas Day. She awoke with a fever, the chills and made more visits to the bathroom Christmas Day than she had in the previous two weeks total. She was able to get some ginger ale and soda crackers down, for a while. But, nothing appealed to her. So, she didn’t eat or drink. Being both feverish and a bit dehydrated, she hallucinated most of Christmas Day and well into the early morning of the 27th of December when the fever broke. She slept until late afternoon on the 28th before calling her office. While she did not remember calling in on the morning of the 26th the Secretary assured her that she had and hoped she was finally feeling better. Edith then asked “Did the lab reports on the DNA sampled I left on your desk Christmas Eve come back yet?”
“Yes, Mam,” the secretary’s voice over the phone said. “They came in yesterday.”
Edith Gunderson was weak, but still determined “Well, read them to me.”
The voice over the phone replied, “They are long, which part do you want me to read.”
Edith Gunderson began to show impatience, “Is there a match to anyone in the system?”
“Yes, they both have matches to Amanda White, a convicted felon.” The voice on the phone stated.
Edith Gunderson drew in a sharp breath, a gasp really and sat stunned for a few seconds.
“are you still there” the voice over the phone inquired.
“Yes,” blurted Edith Gunderson, “I’m thinking. Give me a moment.”
More than a moment passed. Indeed, it was closer to a minute or two minutes. Finally, Edith Gunderson began to bark orders. “I want an arrest warrant drawn against Amanda Clarkston aged 24 of” she looked down at her file ”1246 Brentwood for neglect and providing a caseworker with false information. I want a pick-up order dawn for her daughter Amanda Clarkston, aged 4, called Mandy, to place the child in protective custody. Get those over to Judge Bellamy within the hour and I’ll come in and execute them.”
The voice on the phone replied, “The Judge is traveling today and won’t be back in chambers until tomorrow noon.
Edith Gunderson, “Where is he? I’ll go to him.”
“Probably at 10,000 feet somewhere over the Midwest. He’s flying home from Christmas in California with his grandchildren” the voice replied.
Edith Gunderson’s memory cells began to function a little better “Oh, yes, he took them to Disney Land.” She paused before asking “Which judge is still there?”
“Phillips,” the voice replied.
Edith Gunderson had not had much truck with Judge Phillips since the judge ruled against her in a custody suit and turned the child over to neglectful parents. “Get the papers ready. I’ll take them to Bellamy in the morning myself.”
With that she hung up the phone.
Edith Gunderson sat for a moment then picked up the phone again and dialed. After a few rings a voice answered “District Attorney’s Office, Florence speaking.”
“Flow, this is Edith. I’m going to need an ADA tomorrow early afternoon for a neglect and placement.”
“Hi, Edith, I can get Cameron Diggs for tomorrow, he OK?”
Edith smiled, and thought ‘that boy takes orders well.’ Out loud she replied “Yes, he’ll do just fine. See you tomorrow afternoon Flo.”
Edith Gunderson smiled as she hung up and did not hear Florence say “Looking forward . . .”
Edith flipped a page in her notebook and immediately dialed another number. “Sergeant Swanson, Brentwood Precinct.”
“Sergeant, this is Edith Gunderson, Child Protective Services.”
“Yes Ms. Gunderson, what can I do for you.”
Edith began, “Tomorrow around noon, I will need two officers to accompany me to 1246 Brentwood for a neglect arrest and child pickup. It might help of Patrolman Philipson was one of the officers as the child knows him.”
The Sergeant did not reply immediately, but Edith Gunderson could hear paper ruffling. Finally, “Yes, Mam, Eddie Philipson is on duty tomorrow. I’ll make a note for the morning desk to see that he is available.”
Edith smiled ‘We will get that poor child out of that neglectful woman’s clutches.” To the phone, “Thank you Sergeant.”