Free At Last and Where's Trina?

I left work on Wednesday (my Friday) with some good news for a change. The insubordination charges against me have been reduced to a non-event. My supervisor and I talked about it and I told him that I was disappointed that so much time had been put into something which was so wrong from the outset and that it was my belief that no necessary changes would result from it. It was a good outcome for me but I was always looking at the larger picture and for me that would have meant a thorough investigation of not only my actions but the actions of the supervisor who created the scenario which caused all of this to happen.

At some point in the future (when I retire) I'll publish the blog I've written about this matter and the associated back and forth letters between myself, my union, and management. I don't currently work for an agency (it's not a company although they like to think we are) which is at all cozy with the idea of allowing the truth to be spoken as it sort of gets in the way of the agenda.

A big thank you to Dog and Tim for all their help.

I was all set to ride today: suited up—water bottles filled and carbs replenished when I changed my mind and decided to stay home and continue with the yard work I'd begun last weekend. Again, it was pretty much an all-day affair. I'd hoped to get done with a couple hours of daylight to spare and I did but when it finally came time to ride there was a strong line of storms about to roll through. Last year that would have bothered me but this year I'm fine with it. I've accepted the fact that I won't be doing as many miles as the past few years.

Wednesday night Rachel was inducted into the National Honor Society with a few dozen of her classmates. When I was going through high school I didn't even know there was such a thing. I'm so glad for her that she's making the most out of her high school years in a way that I never imagined.

Funny story: Rachel got a call from one of her best friends, Katrina, who lives across the street. She called to tell Rachel that she was at track practice and that she thought she'd locked her keys in her car and could Rachel please go to her house, get her spare set and bring them to her? No problem. A few minutes later Rachel got a text message from a mutual friend asking if she knew where Katrina was because her car was running in the school parking lot with nobody in it. This was the afternoon and her car had been running all day since she'd parked it that morning.

They're thinking that a Native American nickname may be appropriate for her: Running Car.