La Quinta, California: When I left you last evening, our Jeep had been repaired and was ready to be fetched. My jury duty loomed for Thursday morning.
Meaning we were up early and out the door this morning to get the Jeep. It didn't take ten minutes to discuss things with our service writer. There was no charge for the electric updates (as they had been completed so many times prior at Jeep dealers - with no satisfaction. EVER. We did have to pay for a new battery and a new headlamp.
Dave headed home - via Costco - in the rental car; I headed to the county justice center in my "new and improved" Jeep. When I started the Jeep, I immediately had an error message on the dash! OF COURSE! It was, OF COURSE, for the start/stop system. This "feature" has the engine stop when at a red light/stop sign, and start again when the driver removes pressure from the brake pedal. Saving the environment 20 seconds at a time. The start/stop has NEVER EVER worked on this car for more than twenty times total in five years. Not a huge issue, but the constant reminder on the dash that the start/stop system is unavailable is really a major pain in the rear, no matter how many times we have had it fixed. Plus, the dang alert is accompanied with a very loud DING. Thank you for telling us something that has never worked is no longer working!
I hate this car.
First positive of the day: Costco had the huge "handle" jugs of Tanqueray gin for $16.99 each - if you bought two. (Nearly $45 - for one - at State of Oregon liquor stores.)
After checking into the jury pool, I situated myself in a seat along a back wall and stayed social-distanced (while wearing a mask) in the jury room. No one came to talk to us - about 40 of us - and we simply sat there as 40 conspiring strangers for several hours. I was reading a new book, and was "entertained" by a fellow juror who farted loudly and proudly on a regular schedule. (Wearing a mask has several advantages.)
At 10:45a there was an announcement we would be released at noon. (Why didn't they just release us at 10:45?) At 11:45a, we were told to take a lunch break and return at 1:30p. Guess we were NOT going to be released at noon? I came home for lunch and returned to the courthouse... only to sit there until 3:30p, when an announcement came over the loudspeaker stating we were excused, and had dutifully fulfilled our jury duty for a year.
SIDE NOTE: When I entered the Justice Center after lunch, my bag was rejected by the X-ray because I had a tape measure in my purse. I always carry a teeny little cloth tape measure (similar) in my purse. When I entered the Justice Center at 9 o'clock this morning, the evil tape measure went undetected, and I had no idea they were not allowed. Going through security after lunch, the tape was declared a possible weapon! I was not rude, but did ask why it was okay at nine o'clock and not okay now. The guards were not amused at my inquiry. I had to race back to my car (110 degrees) to deposit the tape measure in my Jeep. Otherwise, imagine the headline: BUBBE STRANGLES SECURITY GUARD WITH POCKET MEASURING TAPE.
I was only thinking of all the tasks I could have accomplished at home - 10 minutes from the Justice Center - while waiting in the jury room all dang day. Wouldn't our world be a better place if people simply chose to do the right thing, like not breaking the law? So many fellow jurors were having a paper stamped to prove they were at the Justice Center for their employers. Yes, it is a duty/privilege to serve on a jury, and I would want my fellow citizens/peers to decide my fate, but what a mess this system seems to be. Dave did this several months ago. He sat in the same jury room for five solid days and was then sent home. Why?
Home again, happily. DT had also procured items for an easy dinner tonight - and I am going to post a week-o-meals in a few days.
It is hot and oddly muggy.
I will leave you tonight with this wonderful photo of our clever girl (that I totally stole from our clever - and beautiful - girl).
Until my next update, I remain, your "stealing is a crime" correspondent.