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My first out-of-town court appearance of the year was this morning. Fortunately, not too early, since there was seriously disgusting ice coating the roads at the morning rush. By the time I got on the road, it had turned over to all rain, and that rain even did a decent job of cleaning crap off my car by the time I got back to town.
The court appearance itself took a minute and a half, and was successful. Leading up to it was an hour of pain. Fully. SLOW. Arguments on behalf of other people in other cases that dragged well into the afternoon. The saddest of those was a pro se (self-represented) creditor of a Chapter 13 debtor, who came all the way downtown despite a broken foot to oppose the disallowance of her claim against her former husband. On the merits, the disallowance was appropriate, since the scumbag had, in fact, paid the medical bills that she'd filed claims for in his bankruptcy over a year before. In equitable terms, though, it kinda sucked, since the scumbag had failed to pay a bunch of medical bills that arose after his filing, and the judge had to explain that he couldn't take that into account in disallowing the earlier claim.
As she hobbled out of the courtroom, she said, slightly under her breath, to the half dozen or so of the bankruptcy practitioners in the audience, "I can't believe you can do this for a living."
Just as slightly under my breath, I replied as she passed by, "Neither can we."
----
I hightailed it back to town before the rain turned back to snow. That was with some sadness, for in a parallel universe, I would have stopped at a home around the corner from our last Rochester residence to meet a Friend from here, whose cousin just died and for whom the family was sitting shiva. Unfortunately, her employer doesn't give bereavement leave for relatives so "distant," although I know perfectly well how close the bond between cousins really was, and how unfair that policy was to her and the rest of her family.
That Friend referred to her own cousin, and to my just-departed friend from church, as women of valor. I agree 200 percent with those assessments.
----
Speaking of "fairly disgusting ice" as I was earlier in this entry, the nom nom nom I would have otherwise posted about last night was this:
The NHL has since suspended the tooth-weilding instigator of that scene for two games. The best line I heard about it on the broadcast last night was how sad it was that the Sabres would have to hire a veterinarian now in addition to the assorted orthopods and neurosurgeons they maintain on staff for such on-ice incidents.
----
After a stop at work on the way back from Rachacha and picking up Emily from an afternoon of afterschool, I headed back to church for the second of, most likely, four consecutive nights. Tonight was part of a service project required for the kid I'm mentoring to be confirmed, and involved helping to take down the many Christmas decorations all over the church, the particular hurry being driven by Lois's memorial service being scheduled for tomorrow night.
At least the levity has started to return. One of the lay ministers asked me to help with laying in some provisions for the buffet after the memorial service (we're Methodist, yaknow), and she apologized profusely for not having called me earlier to let us know Lois had died. Someone else then asked about the internment arrangements- would Lois be buried, or cremated?
"Oh, she's already been cremated," Barbara replied. "She's in the office."
"Still answering the phones," I surmised.
Everyone laughed. Including, somehow I just know, Lois.
The court appearance itself took a minute and a half, and was successful. Leading up to it was an hour of pain. Fully. SLOW. Arguments on behalf of other people in other cases that dragged well into the afternoon. The saddest of those was a pro se (self-represented) creditor of a Chapter 13 debtor, who came all the way downtown despite a broken foot to oppose the disallowance of her claim against her former husband. On the merits, the disallowance was appropriate, since the scumbag had, in fact, paid the medical bills that she'd filed claims for in his bankruptcy over a year before. In equitable terms, though, it kinda sucked, since the scumbag had failed to pay a bunch of medical bills that arose after his filing, and the judge had to explain that he couldn't take that into account in disallowing the earlier claim.
As she hobbled out of the courtroom, she said, slightly under her breath, to the half dozen or so of the bankruptcy practitioners in the audience, "I can't believe you can do this for a living."
Just as slightly under my breath, I replied as she passed by, "Neither can we."
----
I hightailed it back to town before the rain turned back to snow. That was with some sadness, for in a parallel universe, I would have stopped at a home around the corner from our last Rochester residence to meet a Friend from here, whose cousin just died and for whom the family was sitting shiva. Unfortunately, her employer doesn't give bereavement leave for relatives so "distant," although I know perfectly well how close the bond between cousins really was, and how unfair that policy was to her and the rest of her family.
That Friend referred to her own cousin, and to my just-departed friend from church, as women of valor. I agree 200 percent with those assessments.
----
Speaking of "fairly disgusting ice" as I was earlier in this entry, the nom nom nom I would have otherwise posted about last night was this:
The NHL has since suspended the tooth-weilding instigator of that scene for two games. The best line I heard about it on the broadcast last night was how sad it was that the Sabres would have to hire a veterinarian now in addition to the assorted orthopods and neurosurgeons they maintain on staff for such on-ice incidents.
----
After a stop at work on the way back from Rachacha and picking up Emily from an afternoon of afterschool, I headed back to church for the second of, most likely, four consecutive nights. Tonight was part of a service project required for the kid I'm mentoring to be confirmed, and involved helping to take down the many Christmas decorations all over the church, the particular hurry being driven by Lois's memorial service being scheduled for tomorrow night.
At least the levity has started to return. One of the lay ministers asked me to help with laying in some provisions for the buffet after the memorial service (we're Methodist, yaknow), and she apologized profusely for not having called me earlier to let us know Lois had died. Someone else then asked about the internment arrangements- would Lois be buried, or cremated?
"Oh, she's already been cremated," Barbara replied. "She's in the office."
"Still answering the phones," I surmised.
Everyone laughed. Including, somehow I just know, Lois.