Well, this morning I have something to talk about, so I'll join Brother Bob and break my short-lived vow of silence. The Sandpoint cop shop has dispatched one of its officers to the railroad parking lot across the Great Northern Road from our driveway.
While retrieving our roadside mobile garbage container, I ambled over to meet the handsome young fella and give him a thumbs up. He put away his gun (speed gun, that is) while we talked.
After watching a pickup and a car fly by here yesterday morning on a high-speed drag race, I appreciate his lurking over there. I hope he pounces on a few of the wild drivers who have turned this once-quiet rural neighborhood into a hazard zone.
By the way, during the time it took me to type that paragraph, he caught somebody. I don't know what his limit is today. Is there a limit in Idaho on how many speeders you can catch during a designated time?
Sandpoint's finest need to get used to spending more time out here nabbing the speeders. This becomes especially urgent today after last night's planning and zoning meeting.
Our fine planning and zoning commission, after voting the plan down once in December and tabling it a second time in January, bowed down to their big brother, annexation-hungry City Council members and approved a controversial new subdivision half a mile to our north.
That means at least another 29 cars zipping by here daily within the next year or so. That is, if they don't get hit by a train while hurrying over the dangerous crossing leading into their subdivision, a lovely old farm once owned by my folks.
But, the developer (from Spokane), who surely won't line his pockets before leaving town, has assured our trusting city government that he can talk the railroad into just about anything. And, we all know we can count on the integrity and clout of land developers.
Brother Bob, can I join your monastery?
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