My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Police Blotter � Give me back my hound, dammit!

2004-08-09

One of the joys of living in the middle of nowhere is getting the county newspaper full of old fashioned folksy news. You know, in-depth coverage of the tomato festival, interviews with Miss Beaverdam and Little Miss Beaverdam, pages devoted to nothing more than library book sales and Board of Supervisors meetings and zoning issues. This last is of importance because one of the reasons we moved out here is to get away from the suburban housing developments. They don�t take new developments lightly out here, thank god.

My favorite section is the police blotter called Public Record. Here are the choicest bits from yesterday�s issue:

� Suspect lit an aerosol can at the above location.

� Suspect stole water from a public facility.

� Complaintant reported that he and the victim have been receiving bills for medical procedures that are not theirs.

� Victim states suspect stole his dog and would not return it.

They speak for themselves, don�t they? This and the various drug busts and stuff taken from truck beds is about the extent of crime around here. Except for the Sniper attack last year, the world�s pretty quite on the crime end. I don�t think I�ll be placing one of those �this house protected by Paranoia Inc.� signs anytime soon. If you want to steal stuff out of my open lean-to, be my guest. I won�t shoot you. I don�t even own a gun. I know, I know, I�m a terrible country dweller. I�ll always be a city girl at heart.

Maternity leave is officially over and I�ve handed my 7 week old off into the capable hands of her daddy and a sitter. She is unscathed so far. We�ll see how the months progress.

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Currently reading (book #35 for 2004): Master of the Moor by Ruth Rendell

Currently listening to: Greatest Hits of Bee Gees, Queen & Duran Duran. Am I hip or what? (Yeah, or what)

Currently wishing: I had some vacation time left. I need to go to the beach and walk barefoot in the sand, get salty air in my hair, drink a beer and stare off into the horizon, listen to the crash of the ocean. How do people in the Midwest stand being so far from the ocean? Damn, if I left now I could be there in���

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