SWANS! (Update: SANDHILL CRANES!)

So I was outside the afternoon, and heard a weird noise. I thought for a moment it was Triffids, from that movie.

But the more I listened, the more I began to recognize the noise. It was something I remember hearing at scout camp. Swans.

Then there they were in the sky. They don't show up very well in this video, or in the subsequent photos. But you could sure hear them. And there were fleets of them in the sky, passing over on their way south.

It was a touching moment, to be sure.

I have since confirmed these are sandhill cranes, as a swan's call is more "swan-like," whatever that means. Still glad to I got to see and hear them.

Mon Oncle

I don't pretend to be a film snob, but I do know what I like.

And I finally spent the time this weekend (and tonight) to watch Jacques Tati's "Mon Oncle" in full, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Definitely for the French aesthetics. I lived in France for almost two years, for a time in a building that reminds me a little of the one M. Hulot lives in:

There's still plenty of new coming in among the old, but they've done an amazing job of preserving the old. The apartment building I lived in when I lived in Blois is still there, built before Columbus discovered America.

And I love the visual comedy of it all. This is clearly a tale that could be told with lots of jokes and dialogue, but it's not. Most of it is in the visual absurdity of the new world M. Hulot is called to live in compared to the fuzzy, grimy, comfortable one he calls home.

There are a few odd editing moments that confused me a little, and while the payoff at the end is nice, I'm not exactly sure what led up to it. But seeing father and son holding hands like that is precious (I won't spoil the joke for those who haven't seen it).

It was this bit from the Royal Ocean Film Society that convinced me finally to watch the entire film:'

As this bit says, Tati does visual comedy well. The photo that starts this entry is a great example. The old Mr. Tudball character trying to help this guy park his enormous Cadillac between the cart and the beat-up local-production truck.

Anyhoo, for now the film is available to see at dailymotion.com, here. It's worth a try.

Seventy-One Degrees

So it was 71 degrees today. Outside. On November 6th, in Idaho.

We raked up leaves. I finished installing a gate on the north side of the house and cleaned the camper out from the campout last month. Liam and I took down the Halloween lights and started on the Christmas lights.

Good thing, because even though it was 71 degrees today, it's supposed to snow a couple of inches tomorrow.

This is November. Snow is expected. Seventy-one degrees is not.

It was nice.

Winter. Yes. That's coming. In 2020, we also get winter. What joys will it bring?

We finally had a covid-19 scare in the house. The test came back negative. But we were in that odd little loop for about 36 hours. And an odd loop it was.

Started out at crushthecurveidaho.com, where we were assured we'd be given help to set up an appointment.

They got personal information. Insurance information. Email addresses and phone numbers. And at the end, a list of test providers in our area whom we had to call to set up an appointment. They also gave us a handy reference number to use with our selected provider to make the process go faster.

That's helping us set up an appointment in a technical sense, by which I mean I got a list of providers in the area offering tests. Not quite the help I wanted, so I decided to roll with it.

Called our selected provider and their first question was: "Are you in the parking lot?"

No. I'm at home, calling for an appointment like I was told to.

"Oh, you have to be in the parking lot, then call."

Fine. Maybe crushthecurveidaho.com could mention that with the phone number, but okay. We're only ten minutes away.

So we drive to the provider and are in the parking lot and are trying to make a call when another guy pulls into the spot next to us in a massive diesel Ford and I can't hear the person on the other end of the line.

We get the appointment. I offer them the handy reference number I got from crush the curve. "We don't do anything with them," she said.

Okay. So I give personal information. Insurance information. Emails and phone numbers. And we wait. For twenty minutes, we wait.

Finally get called in. And are told their test isn't accurate in the first few days of exposure, but we get an "order" which will allow us to get a test at another place.

We go to the other place. Behind a really slow guy clearly looking for an address. Very slow. Like five miles and hour up the road slow. He pulls over and we go ahead, because we've been to the place before.

And get in a line to wait. Finally it's our turn. We give personal information. Insurance information. Email and phone number. And finally get the test and a little card with a web address on it where we can go for results. We might have them in one to three days. As we're heading into the weekend, well, I'm not so sure about that.

Go home, and go to the website. There we're told because of a national backlog of covid testing, it could be four to six days. Or ten to fourteen days. WHO KNOWS? And we have to have a negative result or the testee has to quarantine for two weeks from both school and work.

Tonight, we get a call from the original provider, the one who could not administer an accurate test. The test from the other lab came up negative.

Good.

But I don't want to know how much that all just cost me. We're told insurance will cover it. But allow me a cynical chuckle. We'll see how that goes.

But today, today paid for it a little. Seventy-one degrees. And snow tomorrow. Maybe we'll last to 2021. Maybe.

VICTORY! [Squidward Looks Terrible]

So this came in the mail this week, and I'm supposed to be happy about it.

And I guess for a given value of happy, I am happy about it. Happy in that they agreed they won't cut our rate to the bone and keep on cutting, as they are doing with their solar customers in Utah. But unhappy in that I learned about the decision this way, rather than through the Idaho Public Utilities Commission.

And this is the first time I've heard of their "No more than 10% addition to capacity quid pro quo."

I defy any normal human to go to the Idaho Public Utilities Commission website and find either:

1. The final decision

2. The condition on the no more than 10% capacity may be added.

I've looked. If it's there, is so well hidden as to make me suspect it's hidden on purpose.

Y'see, we got solar on the house to try to save money. We refinanced our home mortgage and rolled the solar loan into it to save money. And Rocky Mountain Power, and their pseudoaccomplices at the IPUC seem determined to scrape back any money they can.

And let's face it: Rocky Mountain Power says its solar customers aren't paying their fair share of upkeep on the grid. I've been on this grid most of my life, and I can say it's been in pretty sorry shape since before solar became an issue for them. Maybe if they spent less time making money for stockholders and such and put more of that money into, say, upkeep and such, they might have better equipment and not be forced to soak customers for upkeep on their monopoly.

The monopoly thing. That's why I'm supposed to be happy with this decision. "See? We wanted to soak you more, but the IPUC wouldn't let us, so be glad there's a flimsy layer of government between you and us."

I know I'm sounding cynical. If the cynical shoe fits, wear it.

So I am happy. Looking like this, holding their blessed letter up for all to see.