I was looking in my MWN worthy story pile just now (the cupboard being basically bare), and found a pair of lists. One is the most dangerous place to live list- the US cities over 25,000 where the odds of being victim of a violent crime are best. Not surprisingly, most of the top ten were in either New Jersey or next to it (#1 Camden, #2 Chester PA, #8 Atlantic City, and # 9 Wilmington DE), or in Michigan (#3 Detroit, #4 Saginaw, and #7 Flint). The home of my favorite baseball team, Oakland CA, copped the next highest spot at #5; the remaining hellholes were #6 Bessemer AL and #10 Memphis.
On the bright side, the other list I had were the BEST places to live by state. This was based on a variety of criteria such as price per square foot (Where Indiana , Ohio, and Mississippi were lowest, and Hawaii at some five times Indiana was most), percentage of appreciation from 2013-4 (which Nevada was best), foreclosures per 1,000 (Nevada, not surprisingly high here as well- but not as high as Florida, whose total was over twenty times that of the Dakotas or Wyoming), and burglary rate (I know you're expecting Jersey or Michigan here, but it was actually Arkansas, followed by New Mexico and North Carolina). The winners were Wyoming, North and South Dakota. (Which when you consider that they have 6, 10, and 11 people per square mile, tells you all you need to know on the current American take on having neighbors.
ITEM 2: What the stuck...
So last night I stick myself for the glucose meter. 156!!! I thought, that can't be right; perhaps that's what I get for not changing the needle. Try again- 45????? All right, there is some nonsense going on. Clean needle, clean finger, try again- 108. I gave up.
This morning after the "night fast", 130. Fairly normal for what I've been getting thus far.
Today, after work and a short walk- NINETY ONE.
Needless to say, I recorded the last night's 108 and opened a Pepsi to celebrate. Chris gets a "cookie"!!!
ITEM 3: The Untold Story
The other day, I forgot a very important part of the story of a walk Scrappy and I took. You see, one of his favorite places to sniff ground hog dens is near where the windstorm this summer took down the six trees. As per usual, Scrappy was off to one side sniffing God only knows when a ground hog springs up and takes off running right in front of me, less than ten feet away.
Why didn't I take a picture? Laughing too hard. For in his effort to flee, the little fatty ran directly into a small tree just after he took off. And then, just to make it look better, he "tried" to climb the tree. The charade ended when he found he couldn't move his fat gluteus off the ground; then he swerved to one side and continued fleeing. By the time I could say, "Scrappy! Get him!" he was gone, although Scrappy followed his trail as if he'd been paying attention.
|I know you're supposed to read this as disappointed spring seekers berating Punxsutawney Phil, but just for this, read it as a disappointed ground hog hater berating a dumb beagle...|
ITEM 4: Winner, celebration having least to do with event being celebrated
Event- Yesterday was the 107th anniversary of Bulgaria's independence. How does one celebrate that?
Answer, anchor waterproof copies of The Last Supper and the Mona Lisa to a Black Sea reef and have an exhibition.
That's it for tonight, be safe and be fun!