Last night I wrote a very important letter. I mailed it this morning after the visit to the court house. I went there to turn in my certificate of completion for the defensive driving course that makes me as innocent as I was before I was erroneously ticketed. IMHO. Yes! I missed three questions. So why did I end up with a 91.67% score? I won't ask for details; this woman is just happy that she wasn't arrested. I wish I could explain why I waited until the eleventh hour before taking the course and turning in the required paper work. Oh. Maybe I do know.
I took the first part of the course back in April. Before I was allowed access to the first test I was encouraged to "upgrade." I was charged twenty-four dollars for my driving record. I canceled. Asked for a refund. The company wanted eight dollars! For nothing. Okay. To shorten this rant, I looked for other options, got my record online for twelve dollars. I ended up doing the course and tests a few days ago. July 1 was my deadline. I was locked out of the exam several (at least three) times. When I called, you know I was kept on hold for too long, right? Each time. One example:
"Ma'am, you were locked out because you gave the wrong answer when you were asked, "Is the car you were driving paid for." Wrong answer? Of course it is paid for. The rep explained: The car was financed. You did not pay cash for it. "Oh, duh!" I pray that I never get ticketed again unless . . .
But anyway . . . So, I mailed the first letter on my way home. Oh, Anna! You made a stressful day better. Anna Mail! There was a minor incident with a member of a large wedding party--too large by courthouse standards. People were all over the place--in the way--disruptive. Had the "patriarch" not invaded my personal space, chances are, I would have wished the startled-looking couple congratulations, but men from certain ethnicities forget that not all women defer to them, and rudeness is inexcusable. In the end, after I'd had my say, he went around me instead of shoving me again. I actually said, "This is a wedding party." I said, "That's fine, but that doesn't mean you can run over me." Had he shoved my bad arm . . . I might be writing this from jail. Harris County makes mega bucks from traffic fines. I refuse to do anything to make me an involuntary guest. I don't eat white bread, or bologna, and communal bathrooms make my bladder malfunction. Oh. And my comment about ethnicities does not make me racist or . . . What's that other word? Bigot! That's it. It does not make me a bigot. I speak from experience.
So. I mailed my letter to the senator from Texas. What I said isn't as important as saying it. I wrote the first letter in long hand. I went to her web site again because I needed to pass on her address to someone, and then I saw her Austin address, and I needed to add a little something after listening to Perry's interview last night. Another letter goes out tomorrow. I had two Lydia Mendoza stamps left. You know I used one, right? Could I do less for a very important letter? The post office sold out of the Mendoza stamps
and can't seem to get more. Am hoarding my last one until they do.
Some days ago I went and did a little doodling. One is a favorite. Can you guess which?
All letters are very important. The senator's is just one among many. I usually spend holidays catching up on past-due letters but this holiday will be spent in the backyard. I'm putting a cover crop in the new large raised bed. A local Master Gardener recommended crops that can be planted now, but I want to enrich our future garden space first. I have good seeds for the job. I hope for writing time this weekend. Y'all have been steadfast and constant company since my forced R&R. I have some good things to talk about too. Not much, but just enough. Good things are going on here. I want to tell y'all about "The Wilson" and such, so expect a very important letter in July. See you in the mail!