Yesterday was fairly productive. As I predicted, we saw neither hide nor hair of the javelina. Since that's what I was expecting, I took my shotgun instead of my rifle. I got 3 cottontails - much less mangled than the one I hit with the rifle. Since the wash was still flowing river-style, I decided to skin and clean the rabbits before we headed back home. It was nice to be able to just rinse the sand off of them when we got home and toss them in milk to soak the game out of them. They're ready to go out on the grill, so I think I'll do bbq rabbit tonight, for sure. Corey suggested an irony-rich dinner - grilled rabbit on a bed of lettuce with carrots on the side. That's right - ironY, not IRON. Hee hee.

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I decided to call the mortgage company to find out where my $363 is. And you know what they told me? "What fax?" They're now trying to tell me that they never received the fax of the paperwork required to open the case. After spending a good 5 minutes biting the head off of the rep I was talking to, she said she was transferring me to her supervisor, and to please hold for a moment. After waiting about 5 minutes for someone to answer, I yelled into the phone, "Your moment is UP!" and I drove down to the bank.
Apparently, the bank is turning the case over to their Resolution/Escalation team. I'm hoping that this will scare the mortgage company into forking over my money. I was supposed to be paying off our repo this month, and because that money isn't here, no-can-do. So I just had to send off $200 to them to appease them for the last two months. Ridiculous.

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So today, I got up with the intention of getting totally wigged on caffeine, doing my dishes, doing the laundry, and going grocery shopping. I got all psyched up while reading diaries online, checking my bank balance, and surfing eBay. I was chatting with my darling Christine, and a call came in from Corey at work. This was around 7:30 this morning, so I'm thinking, "Oh boy, this can't be good."

And it wasn't.

He was calling to tell me that he took the van to work (so glad he did, too, I'd've been pissed if I'd carried two 10-lb baskets of laundry out to an empty driveway). Both of the rear tires on Dad's car were flat when he went out there last night. He needed me to find out (if I could) if it was vandalism, or if he'd just been lucky enough to pick up nails in BOTH tires. Well, the tires were punctured in the side walls. Not a knife, I don't think, the holes are very jagged, so probably something more along the lines of a screwdriver. I called the police to make a report, just for the sake of having a record of it. Of course, Dad didn't want full coverage on it, liability only, so it won't be covered by my insurance company. Just one more reason for me to want to be out from under the responsibility of the damned thing. I wish the tags would expire before September. *sigh*. Stupid rotten punks. How dare they get me out of doing laundry.

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I think I might make a trip to the police department. I want to see if they'll give me a listing of how many times we've been victims of crimes in the last 6 or 7 years.

the last trail...the next path