I should have bought a lottery ticket. I should have gone to Reno. Jupiter must have been aligned with Mars because it was a day filled with good news, lifting my spirits that even the pouring rain could not dampen. As soon as the morning's milk was strained, I raced into Placerville to get the truck smogged. My good old workhorse is fourteen years old and I had my fingers crossed. The truck of the man ahead of me failed the test and I eavesdropped enough to hear the jaw-dropping total of what it would cost to fix the problems. I crossed legs and toes. I almost did a happy dance right there in the shop when I was told my truck passed!
I have been stressing for nearly a week over the summons to jury duty. I believe in the system. I also believe it behooves retired persons to serve. For the most part, we have life experience, if not legal training. For the most part, we have the time to give. For the most part, serving does not create the hardships that are placed on those in the work force or mothers of small children. I have sat on panels in the past and found the experience interesting and rewarding. This time, I simply did not know how I was going to make it happen. The logistics of getting the girls milked well before daylight with no electricity in the barn, the stalls (and myself) cleaned, and getting to Placerville on time were overwhelming. There just aren't that many substitute goat milkers available, and I don't know any, period. I had called and left a voice-mail message with the court last Friday. The recorded voice had informed me that any request for an excuse must be in writing, and I promised I would provide same. I hadn't had time to do it, but when I picked up the mail on my way back from town, lo and behold, there was a card saying that my request had been considered and granted and I am permanently excused from jury duty! They must have heard the desperation in my voice.
Karin (my apologies for previously misspelling her name) called. The tax packet had been received and processed and I will receive a modest refund. I will wear out my shoes doing the happy dance!
To end the day on the same high note, I talked with a friend who's been going through a rough patch, and things are looking up for her. Best of all, a family member of mine had had one of those onerous medical tests and had gotten a clean bill of health.
It was a good day.