I have to say this...
Feb. 10th, 2012 01:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
banjoplayinnerdSaturday afternoon I was checking my Twitter feed when I got a tweet from my sister in Salt Lake City.
"Do you live anywhere near Puyallup?" she asked.
This is not the normal sort of question from my sister. The normal question from my sister usually involves tech support of one kind or another.
"If Seattle were Salt Lake," I replied, "we'd live in Bountiful and Puyallup would be down around American Fork somewhere." Not 100% accurate, but close enough for visualization. "Why?"
"There was an explosion down in Puyallup."
I figured an explosion in Puyallup must have been something spectacular to make the Salt Lake news, so I called up the Seattle P-I website and saw the connection. Josh Powell, the leading "person of interest" in the 2009 disappearance of his wife, was receiving his two sons for a supervised visit. He had moved up to the Puyallup area from Salt Lake soon after the disappearance, which is why this was (and is) getting a lot of play in both media markets. As the boys entered the house, he shut and locked the door, leaving the supervisor outside. She pounded on the door, demanding to come in . . . and then she smelled gas. She was calling her supervisor and 911 to report the situation when the house exploded, killing Powell and the two boys.
Since then the case has only gotten stranger, with reports of chop marks from a hatchet on the boys' bodies, pornography on Powell's computer, and the slime from the Westboro Baptist Church promising to picket the sons' funeral to protest the Washington legislature's decision to pass a gay marriage bill.
Don't get me started on the Westboro Baptist Church.
My grandson is a handful. He's 4 and into everything, everywhere, all the time. It's all my wife and I can do to keep up with him. He moves so fast we have no idea what he looks like except when he's sleeping, which isn't often enough. And he has a mind of his own. If he gets something into his head, it's hard to convince him otherwise. I bought some dust masks for the power supply project on Monday and I finally had to break them out on Wednesday because for two days about all he could talk about was wearing those masks.
He gets into trouble. A lot. Usually for getting into things he isn't supposed to, or picking fights with his sister.
Just after I read about the explosion Igor the Younger came into the bedroom to see what I was doing, "Come here, buddy," I said.
"What, Grandpa?"
I gave him a big hug. "I love you."
He hugged me back. "I love you too, Grandpa. And guess what?"
"What, bud?"
"You're a boof."
(I'll have to explain "boof" some other time,)
I hate hearing about parents who have shaken their kids to death, or backed the station wagon into a lake with them in it, or left them alongside the road to fend for themselves, or blown up a house with the kids in it. It makes me sick and sad to hear those stories, because there's no way I would ever consider doing anything that would allow a child in my care to come to harm and I just can't understand why anyone would do that.
And I feel sorry for the families who have gotten caught up in this through no fault of their own.
That's it. I just wanted to get that out there. Now back to really important updates about my boring middle class life.
"Do you live anywhere near Puyallup?" she asked.
This is not the normal sort of question from my sister. The normal question from my sister usually involves tech support of one kind or another.
"If Seattle were Salt Lake," I replied, "we'd live in Bountiful and Puyallup would be down around American Fork somewhere." Not 100% accurate, but close enough for visualization. "Why?"
"There was an explosion down in Puyallup."
I figured an explosion in Puyallup must have been something spectacular to make the Salt Lake news, so I called up the Seattle P-I website and saw the connection. Josh Powell, the leading "person of interest" in the 2009 disappearance of his wife, was receiving his two sons for a supervised visit. He had moved up to the Puyallup area from Salt Lake soon after the disappearance, which is why this was (and is) getting a lot of play in both media markets. As the boys entered the house, he shut and locked the door, leaving the supervisor outside. She pounded on the door, demanding to come in . . . and then she smelled gas. She was calling her supervisor and 911 to report the situation when the house exploded, killing Powell and the two boys.
Since then the case has only gotten stranger, with reports of chop marks from a hatchet on the boys' bodies, pornography on Powell's computer, and the slime from the Westboro Baptist Church promising to picket the sons' funeral to protest the Washington legislature's decision to pass a gay marriage bill.
Don't get me started on the Westboro Baptist Church.
My grandson is a handful. He's 4 and into everything, everywhere, all the time. It's all my wife and I can do to keep up with him. He moves so fast we have no idea what he looks like except when he's sleeping, which isn't often enough. And he has a mind of his own. If he gets something into his head, it's hard to convince him otherwise. I bought some dust masks for the power supply project on Monday and I finally had to break them out on Wednesday because for two days about all he could talk about was wearing those masks.
He gets into trouble. A lot. Usually for getting into things he isn't supposed to, or picking fights with his sister.
Just after I read about the explosion Igor the Younger came into the bedroom to see what I was doing, "Come here, buddy," I said.
"What, Grandpa?"
I gave him a big hug. "I love you."
He hugged me back. "I love you too, Grandpa. And guess what?"
"What, bud?"
"You're a boof."
(I'll have to explain "boof" some other time,)
I hate hearing about parents who have shaken their kids to death, or backed the station wagon into a lake with them in it, or left them alongside the road to fend for themselves, or blown up a house with the kids in it. It makes me sick and sad to hear those stories, because there's no way I would ever consider doing anything that would allow a child in my care to come to harm and I just can't understand why anyone would do that.
And I feel sorry for the families who have gotten caught up in this through no fault of their own.
That's it. I just wanted to get that out there. Now back to really important updates about my boring middle class life.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-10 06:50 pm (UTC)I settled for curling around Ian and holding him safe. Drew was running around being hyperactive and three, and while it would have been heartfelt, he wasn't in the right mood to appreciate it. :P
I don't want this to be a world where someone can do this kind of thing. If he "couldn't live without" them...then why did he not just off HIMSELF? (I'd rather he'd gotten help, but if there has to be a casualty, I'd always rather it be the one with the problem.) Those poor boys, and their poor families.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-10 07:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-10 10:55 pm (UTC)That is certainly very disturbing.
Offhand I'd say he just wasn't thinking straight. It's remarkable how people's understanding of basic cause and effect can go right out of the window in some circumstances.
What a terrible thing.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-11 04:01 am (UTC)+1
Date: 2012-02-11 05:37 am (UTC)