Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury

It's been a long time since I had jury duty, and I almost forgot I had it today.

Almost.

Fortunately for me, I was summoned to my local municipal court, which is about three minutes from my house. I got there a few minutes late to find a crowd standing around. I handed in my jury summons form and waited. And waited some more.

The woman who collected the forms explained that the defendant hadn't arrived yet. Bad form. Both for the defendant, who should be on time for trial, and for the clerk, who shouldn't tell the jury that the defendant is late (or so I would think). Isn't that prejudicial?

We were finally seated in the courtroom. I was Juror 27. That's a nice comfortable number, especially once I noticed the six juror seats at the front of the room.

Then they made us go to the back of the room and reshuffled us. I then became Juror 7. Uh-oh. That's not good, especially when two or three of the seats in front of me were empty.

The prosecutor told us the trial was for someone who had been pulled over for running a stop sign. He asked if any of us had gotten a ticket we felt was unfair. Several hands went up. He asked each of them for details. They were all for speeding, and none was issued in our small town outside Austin. I didn't raise my hand, but I probably should have; I was recently issued a speeding ticket in Austin for which the officer said I was going faster than I think I was. But no matter.

When they called the names of the jurors, I was among them. There were four women and two men on the jury. The prosecutor and the officer had prepared their case carefully: they had pictures of the intersection, video of the officer pulling over the defendant (useless because of wind noise), notes the officer had made on the back of the ticket.

The defendant had made a diagram on a small white board, and she told us how she knew she had stopped: she was turning left at the intersection, and there was a Suburban turning right. There had been a jogger crossing the road that the Suburban had to wait for before it could turn, and she couldn't see around the Suburban to turn left. So she had to stop in order to see. She described every detail and admitted to us that she had thought she was being pulled over for failing to signal the turn. And why else would you insist on a jury trial for failure to stop at a stop sign unless you felt you were not guilty?

The officer didn't remember the details of the Suburban and the jogger, and her notes on the back of the ticket were wrong; she'd said the defendant was turning right at the intersection, not left.

When we got in the deliberation room, it really just came down to this: we all believed the defendant. We took a quick pre-vote a few minutes after entering the room, and it was already a unanimous Not Guilty. I was elected foreman due to my proximity to the door, so I got to write up our verdict -- although the judge read it, which I thought was anticlimactic. We were dismissed before 11am.

The best detail of the day came after all that, though. I pulled into my driveway and saw my neighbor from across the street, which wouldn't be relevant except that I had heard his name called that morning -- he was supposed to be in that room with me as Juror #2! So I waved him over and informed him that he was in violation of state law. He chuckled, but when I told him he had jury duty, his jaw dropped. He had just forgotten, like I almost had. I told him that, since he's retired Secret Service, I thought he had just gotten out of it somehow -- hey, he's done his public service time, believe me. Then we joked about how his son, the local police officer, could come and arrest him. Good times.

This is my first time to get picked for a jury. I'm glad it wasn't a serious criminal charge. What's your jury duty experience? Been called? Been seated on a jury? Tell me about it!

Where Have You Been, Lisa?

What, have y'all been missing me?

Really? Aww, that's so sweet!

Well, I'm not participating this time around, but make sure you check out the Bloggy Giveaways carnival. Lots of great stuff there, as always.

Through an acquaintance on twitter, I found out about this sweet baby girl who is fighting for her life. Send prayers and good thoughts her way. Cute pics of her can be found here.

If you ever doubted the devastation that's taken place in Africa, this video is a little long, but WOW.

And for a little levity, or maybe just if you want something over the top to serve at your Super Bowl party, check this out.

Oh, you wanted to know what I've been up to? Oh, OK. Well, other than working and playing World of Warcraft, I've been trying to finish this little project for a baby shower on Sunday:


I don't know if I ever mentioned that I crochet, but I make baby afghans for friends. This one is for a friend I've had for 15 years or so. I'm SO excited about her baby girl. Her shower is Sunday. I went to three places on Saturday to find just the right yarn (she's a crocheter too and has opinions about such things), so I didn't get started until Sunday or so. One week to finish an afghan is pretty ambitious, and it's not really what I had in mind, but for Shell I'll do it. It's less than half done now, so I have a long way to go.

It's kind of hard to tell in the pic, but the blue is really more purple (her favorite color and mine), and the variegated white has pink and purple in it. I hope she and her baby girl love it!

My Home Away from Home

I'm in Taiwan this week, and since I've been attacked by the jet lag monster, I haven't had much to say. I've been asleep or at work pretty much every minute since I've been here.

Tonight I promised myself I'd stay awake long enough to post something, even if it isn't much.

When I found out I would be coming back, I asked Jessica (the fabulous admin who handles such things as my hotel reservations) if I would be staying in the same hotel as last time. She asked if I wanted to stay somewhere else. My unedited answer is a little stronger than "Heck no!" but it's along those lines.

Here is my current home sweet home... the Berkeley Business Hotel.

That's right, I'm staying in The Classy Hotel For Classy People.

And do you want a list of reasons I wouldn't want to stay anywhere else? Aside from the fact that I've been here and I know it, these are the reasons why I love it here:

• The staff is the friendliest I've ever come across. I'm greeted with a smile, a "Hello!" and a small bow every time I walk in the door. I'm sure they all know who I am because I'm the only American in the hotel, but still, virtually any American hotel could take a page from their book.
• The room is large, comfortable, and reasonably priced.
• Every day when the maid service does their thing, they leave two fresh bottles of water in my refrigerator.
• There is a small basket of goodies (cookies, crackers, and fruit) upon arrival.
• Within one block of the hotel: 7-11, Starbuck's, and a Mister Donut.
• I don't rent a car when I'm here, so I have a driver every morning (usually a taxi at night). It's possible I might have the same driver if I were at a different hotel, but I might not. I like her (I posted her pic when I was here before), and in this part of the world, having a driver you trust is kind of a big deal.
• And last, but certainly not least... my hotel is four doors down from the world's greatest beverage!
  

My, how I've missed this bubble tea. Yes, there is bubble tea in Austin, but not THIS bubble tea.

They have a big sign up advertising what is apparently a new flavor: hazelnut milk tea with bubbles. And I keep not seeing it until after I've ordered my tried and true milk tea with bubbles (usually small bubbles, although today they were out). But tomorrow? I'm gettin' me some hazelnut, y'all.

What the Heck: a Book Review

I know, I haven't posted in eons, and you'd think I'd have something to talk about, like an upcoming trip to Taiwan or something, but no.

So I think I'll tell you about the book I just finished: The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson.

I've already verbally recommended it to a couple of people, but I have to say -- providing you can get through the gruesome first part, in which the main character describes how he was burned in his car accident -- the book is very involving. As he recovers in a hospital burn ward, he is visited by a psych patient who tells him stories of true love, heartbreaking loss and redemption. Their stories are intertwined further than he can imagine (the angel wing tattoos on the front cover are hers, not his).

The narrator begins the book as a drug-addicted pornographer who had been a gorgeous physical specimen of a man. After he is burned beyond all recognition, he changes of necessity into a different sort of man. The main characters aren't people you might normally pull for in your real life, but Davidson infuses them with humanity so that we can see their good as well as evil. It's a fascinating look into the heart of a man. Highly recommended.

Barely a Teen

Today is the 19th birthday of my first child.

It's an odd feeling to know that your baby boy -- not so much a bouncing baby any more, but now a freshman engineering major at a major university -- will only be a teenager for one more short year.

We went to dinner tonight, the barely-teen, his father, and I. Son the Younger had other things to do. We have a tradition on the birthday of Son the Older. We go to the Black-Eyed Pea, for there my son can eat his favorite food on earth: broccoli rice casserole. And it's been his favorite food since just after his first birthday. If you'll indulge me, I'll repeat an old family story.

It was a tradition in my family that we went to my grandmother's house on Christmas Eve and my great-grandmother's house on Christmas Day. Since my mother was the oldest of 13 children and my grandmother is the oldest of seven, both of these occasions were pretty much a mob scene. Each adult family member had a dish they usually brought to each function. My mom always brought broccoli rice casserole on Christmas Eve.

When my boy had just turned one, we were in Lubbock for Christmas, and I decided to see if he liked the casserole. He ate it faster than I could spoon it into his little open mouth! He ate the bowlful I had spooned out for him and begged for more. I got him another bowlful, with the same results: he emptied it and wanted moremoreMORE. If memory serves, he ate either three or four bowls full of broccoli rice casserole that night.

When he decided he had had his fill of the casserole, I got a piece of my grandmother's made-from-scratch chocolate cream pie (for myself, naturally) and decided to see if my hungry tyke would like to try some. I gave him a bite, and -- GASP! -- he spit it back out at me. And I asked him, "Whose child are you?" Or so the family legend goes.

Ever since a very young age, he has asked for broccoli rice casserole for his birthday dinner. For several years, that was all he ate -- just two or three sides of the casserole, no entree, no dessert. For tonight's dinner, he had a cup of broccoli cheese soup, grilled chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and the infamous casserole. Good eatin'.

When we went back out to our car, we discovered that there was a very large flock of grackles in the tree we'd parked under. If you're familiar with the bird, you know what that means: our car was covered in large splotches of grackle poo. Yuck.

Then, as we walked up to the car, I felt a telltale splat on the top of my head.

Yep. That's right.

I used to merely dislike grackles. Now I really, really hate them.

And I'm really, really glad that my hubby carries tissues in the car.

Larry's New Web Site!

My niece Courtney is really the coolest ever. Anyone who has ever met her knows this.

She has recently proven it again by creating and committing to update (daily, no less! She may be a little nuts too) a web site for Larry so that everyone can know what's going on with him. My own paltry updates are here and here.

So if you want to read more about Larry, you may do so here. You can also see a couple of pictures of him and his beautiful family. It's always nice to have a face for who you're sending prayers and good thoughts toward, I think. Feel free to sign their guestbook to let them know you were there. I'll be sending them a link to my blog.

You know what? I have the technology. I'll just post my favorite of the pictures here for you. This is a shot of them after one of Andrew's football games. Susan is on the left; Larry is on the right.

Thanks again for praying, y'all.

Update on Larry, December 1

As my hubby left Corpus to come home, he called and gave me his last in-person update.

Larry's 24-hour cultures came back last night, and he's negative for everything. They had thought he had pneumonia, but he didn't, just stuff in his lungs, I guess, plus a fever after surgery. He also was negative for strep, staph, all the nasty bugs you worry about.

He is still on a ventilator (he was breathing on his own after the surgery), but hopefully they will be able to wean him off it within 2-3 days.

Yesterday, when he was asked to wiggle his toes, he picked his foot up off the bed. He didn't have sensation in his feet at that point, but this morning when Dianne (Robert's other sister) grabbed his big toe, she said she saw him react (obviously he can't talk, with the ventilator tube). Apparently motor control comes back before sensation.

Hubby said when Larry is ready to leave the ICU, he will be transferred directly to a rehabilitation facility in Houston, which will be much better for everyone.

He's doing as well as can be expected, but he still has a long road ahead of him, and Susan is understandably still very concerned about him and probably not sleeping well. Continued prayers for them and for their son (who visited over the weekend and headed back home this morning to go to school) would be much appreciated.