What with this wet spring and all, I am having to get out in the garden when I can–which ain’t often enough. And it sure don’t leave me much time to keep up with those lollygagging rascals in Raleigh.
Hey, Nell here. Poor old Zell has been doing the lion’s share of the work here lately and I’m grateful to have such a smart little sister. Mother’s even getting in on the act–she takes white envelopes, opens them all the way up and writes on the blank paper on the inside of them. Ain’t that clever? She’s a pistol alright.
I feel plumb wore out with trying to understand what makes them folks tick down there. I was milking this morning and wondering–is it only about making a fast dollar for them? Or is there something else going on that I ain’t seeing?
For certain, it looks like they’re gunning for Asheville. Asheville is a city up here in the mountains. Big tourist town. Got the Biltmore and such. Lots of…interesting people down there, doing interesting things. Me and Zell gets down there every once in a while and marvel at the new buildings and all the dang traffic.
The legislature is taking poor old Asheville’s water system and turning it over to the folks that run the sewer treatment. I guess it’s all water of some kind but it don’t make good sense. And it really don’t make good sense when you see that them sewer treatment folks just this week “accidentally” dumped millions of gallons of what you flush straight into the French Broad River.
Yep, right in. And they barely apologized for it. Had some sort of accident while they was fixing something else. Uh-huh. We don’t hire folks like that to fix the roof on the corn bin–much less take care of our potable water.
Don’t make a lick of sense. But I reckon they’ll be some mighty big catfish in some of them deep ponds up near Hot Springs.