She actually did something she said she was going to do. I am really shocked. I mean, I was all ready to pounce and then I was so disappointed.
Anyway, I saw a comment someplace that the color of Nicole’s blog is so apropos, and it is.
They went to court, as we know, and Joe pled not guilty, as we expected, and Joe has court on June 28th but that’s just a pre-trial conference, so this could go on forever. And Nicole has explained the whole thing in her blog.
We begin here. This is terribly misleading.
It wasn’t an issue.
We are talking about Child Protective Services. We’re talking about a potty-thing that looks from the outside and with only a casual glance like an outhouse. Of course it wasn’t an issue. That’s because CPS social workers don’t have special courses in sewage management.
The truth is more like this. Nobody paid much attention to this until Nicole put up photos of the various incarnations of outhouses (mostly abandoned before being finished) and finally the last great effort, that filthy awful particle-board thing. And I, along with some other folks, started asking the question.
What are they doing with the contents of the bucket?
. . . every effort to put my family in harms [sic] way.
That’s so ludicrous it defies logic. In harm’s way? What? I blog, Nicole. How is that putting your family “in harm’s way”?
. . . to try to get us to move.
Nope. Don’t care if you move. If you move, I will continue to write. I don’t care where you live.
What I want you to do is quit begging online. That’s it. I want you to quit pretending to be “homesteading,” when what you really are is homeless. I want you to quit with all the “simpler lifestyle” crap, when what you really are is broke. Just stop.
And I have absolutely no influence over the health department in Breckinridge County. I know not one single person there. I have never been there. I don’t know where it is. I don’t know their phone number.
I just blog.
They got a notice.
Nicole doesn’t appear to know how to rotate a photo, so I’m doing it for her. Here, so you can read it, is the notice.
Notice what it says?
. . . inadequate treatment and disposal of human waste above ground.
Notice what it does not say?
Do you see that word? I do not.
When we were engaged in beer drinking with Joe last Friday night, he carried on quite a bit about diapers and run-off and contamination. That’s because it appears that his neighbor has found, at the very least, some of the Naugler trash on his land. This is really not hard for me to believe.
Remember, I’ve been there.
That place, the Naugler place, is strewn with trash. It looks like an inner-city neglected playground. The only thing lacking is a wall with graffiti. I don’t know if the Nauglers just toss their trash around, or if they set bags of trash outside and the dogs get into it and they do the tossing, but somebody does. The trash does not walk there.
So, the idea that some of this trash might end up at the neighbor’s place is not outside the set of “possible.”
The rest, the whole “contamination” thing, I have no way to determine. One reason is that I have no idea where they are dumping the shit. She won’t tell us, except to make some vague reference to a supposed compost heap, covered with a tarp (which would make it all just smell lovely), in the back of the Blessed Little Property. Only elsewhere, she or Joe said something about multiple compost heaps. So who knows.
But anyway, the letter just says “Hey, Naugs, you can’t dispose of your shit above ground.” Period.
Okay, so supposedly Joe spoke with Jeremy Hinton the next day and he said the “C” word. Really? Did he? I thought Joe recorded everything. In fact, Nicole made it easy for us by providing a linky to the recording.
You go listen. Now then, did you hear Jeremy Hinton say “contamination”? You didn’t because he didn’t. The person talking about “contamination” was Joe Naugler. In fact, Joe did most of the talking which is much of the Naugler problem.
I’m reminded here of some lyrics from the musical “Hamilton.” In “Aaron Burr, Sir,” Hamilton is having a beer with Burr and Burr says,
While we’re talking, let me offer you some free advice
Talk less, smile more
Joe might consider those words.
Anyway, what Mr. Hinton said to Joe was basically, “Kentucky law does not allow you to dump raw sewage on the ground.” And Joe insisted that it does. Only I can’t find a place anywhere that says so. Now that means, well, not very much because maybe it’s out there and I just haven’t found it, but really, I tried.
And the reporter “has been linked” to the “trolls.”
I could not tell you the reporter’s name. I have no idea. I never spoke with the reporter (her? him?) I assume because Nicole wrote a whole blog post about “trolls” and named me by name that she considers me a “troll,” but I do not know this reporter.
And see how Nicole and Joe set up a straw man (a logical fallacy) and then start to tear him down?
There is no reason to believe there is any contamination. . .
Nobody has accused them of that in any official document. Mr. Hinton didn’t accuse them of that.
What follows is the Blessed Little Trip to the health department in search of the elusive permit. Naturally, they recorded it.
Let me digress a minute.
When we were planning our cruise, we realized that we would be docking in Copenhagen, Denmark, on May 17th. That was the day of the Kentucky Democratic primary. That meant that we needed to vote via absentee ballot.
So I contacted the clerk of court in our county and verified that we did, in fact, qualify to vote absentee. However, there was a fairly big problem, and one we just didn’t understand at first. Kentucky law requires the clerk of court to mail absentee ballots to an out-of-state address under most circumstances (confinement in a hospital might qualify as an exception). And the problem with that was that the ballot would need to be mailed to us in some distant location in such a way that we could get it, vote, and mail it back to Kentucky.
The clerk asked me, “Where will you be?”
My answer was, “In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.”
So, as you can see, there was a problem. The clerk of court had not the slightest idea what to do about it. She simply had her rules. The ballot had to be mailed out of state. Furthermore, they didn’t even have any ballots and couldn’t print any until they got clearance to do so and she didn’t really know when that would be.
We were leaving the USA on April 10.
It is our right that we should be able to vote. We know that. The clerk knows that.
We could have gone into the clerk’s office and raised holy hell and produced a copy of the US Constitution and talked over her and carried on about “Article Thus-and-So” and totally pissed her off and we wouldn’t have been able to vote.
But instead, we went to the clerk’s office (actually, Dave went once and then we both went the second time because I had to sign for my own ballot) and we worked it out. We were nice. They were nice.
We came up with a Plan A and a Plan B. Two different out-of-state addresses, one in Florida, the other in Copenhagen, Denmark (we docked there three times during our trip). If the ballots were mailed before a certain date, they went to Florida. If they were mailed after that date, they went to Copenhagen, to our B&B. I contacted the B&B people and they were happy to get the ballots, hold them for our arrival and we’d fill them in and get them to mail them back to the USA for us.
As it turned out, they were mailed to a friend’s house in Florida, and got there before our ship sailed. The friend met us at the airport, we went to dinner, and filled the ballots out, and she mailed them the following day, April 11, in plenty of time to get to Kentucky.
But here’s the deal. We are the ones who had to bend. They couldn’t. They can’t change the rules to suit every individual who walks in the door. They had to mail the ballots out of state. So we worked around that and satisfied their requirements and we voted successfully. And furthermore, the clerk called me on the day she mailed the ballots and said, “Success! I am mailing your ballots to Florida today.” She was all happy about it. I was delighted. Dave was delighted. Even our friend in Florida thought it was fun.
So, Joe and Nicole went to the health department and badgered a woman who worked there to get a permit that simply doesn’t exist. The woman had no such permit. It’s not her fault. And Joe and Nicole should have known before going in there that they didn’t have such a permit.
Listen to the audio. Joe is belligerent and hostile. He goes in there prepared to do battle with a woman behind a desk. (Joe is typically very hostile to women—the menacing conviction is an example— but has a beer with the guys.)
Then they got a letter, Nicole says. Here it is.
In the letter, Mr. Hinton tells them that he’s extending the deadline because he failed to tell them how to fix the problem. That’s fair.
How could they fix the problem?
Get a septic system. Either get a new one, or fix the old one. Get it inspected and approved. And then he tells them that he’s happy to meet with them on their property to talk about it.
Notice that there’s nothing in there about “contamination.” The issue is simple. There is no approved method of dealing with sewage, so get one. If you wanna talk about it, call me.
They didn’t, of course. Instead, they called the state dude, who told them exactly the same thing Mr. Hinton did.
But of course, Nicole and Joe know more about everything than anyone else.
Anybody watch Nicole’s nauseating little vlog done while she’s grooming a dog?
Notice how she emphasizes that they are just beginners and are making mistakes and why is everybody always picking on them? They are just beginners. So humble. So sweet. So fake.
If that’s true, why are they calling the fucking Department of Agriculture and when they don’t like what he tells them, going online and declaring that this “display(s) the complete ignorance of the state”? If they are just beginners, maybe they have got this all wrong? Maybe they do not know what the fuck they are talking about?
One of her followers had this to say.
Nicole seems to have no idea that Becky Blass is a blithering idiot. In Becky’s opinion, it’s all the same, human or animal. And Nicole thinks that is fine. This isn’t the only instance of this sort of stupidity being displayed on Nicole’s wall and she never corrects it. She obviously doesn’t know any better, and this is enough to warrant never giving her any permit to handle human sewage, ever, under any circumstances.
See all the pejorative language?
. . . neither party understands. . .
. . . ignorance of the matter has led to bias.
They sent it to the court, which was exactly the right thing to do.
The original issue wasn’t “contamination,” as I have clearly shown. The original issue was dumping raw sewage on the ground, and having no approved and inspected waste disposal system.
Even if our compost was leeching, it wouldn’t effect my neighbors.
Dear Flying Spaghetti Monster, Nicole, you moron, please learn how to spell. The words are “leaching” and “affect.”
What are you doing with the shit?
We are contesting the contamination aspect.
Which, of course, is not the issue at all.
We do need to file for permits and have a site inspection. Which I have agreed to since the beginning.
Oh, Nicole, you are such a liar.
Uh, that is exactly what Joe was in court for. Doing it wrong. That’s what it clearly says. Doing it wrong.
Quote from the citation:
. . . inadequate treatment and disposal of human waste above ground.
Do you see an accusation of “contamination” anywhere there?
I’ve not refused inspection.
I will stand my ground.
What do you call these remarks, Nicole? You are a liar. You just plain lie.
The black-out name is one of the children, and not one of the oldest boys. A child.
And this is what is most troubling.
Even after Jeremy Hinton offers to come out and talk with them on their property, Nicole carries on about lawyers and the 4th Amendment and standing her ground, and worse, the 2nd Amendment.
I know I have said this before, but the Blessed Little Excursion last week taught me something.
Nicole is not mistaken about all this. She knows how to read. Her comprehension isn’t very good, but she can read English. She knows what this is about. She knows it’s not about “contamination.” She’s not misunderstanding anything. She’s way smarter than Joe. He’s just all bluster and blather and has to ask her about everything, including what you call this : (a colon). (In the video at the health department)
Nicole is not mistaken.
Nicole is lying.
We did not have a permit.
And there’s the whole problem in a nutshell. Not only that, Nicole and Joe are very unlikely to get a permit. That’s because the state of Kentucky does not approve dumping sewage on top of the ground. There are good reasons for this.
The main one is that in order to do it correctly, the resultant compost bin(s) have to be maintained properly. And Nicole has demonstrated quite adequately by her idiotic remarks (“what’s the difference”) on FB that she has no idea what “maintained properly” means.
She blithely waves her copy of the Humanure Handbook around but very likely has never actually read it.
And she’s the smart one in the family. Joe is clueless without her.
If anything, by definition, the state is the nuisance.
I know Nicole and Joe want to live in a stateless society like Somalia. They are free to move there tomorrow. I’ll help them pack.
In the meantime, the rest of us have a say in what they do. Funny how Nicole bitches and moans and actually calls the sheriff’s office because I rode down her “private” road and somebody took photos and Kyle gave Joe a beer and that infringes on her “rights,” but her neighbor is supposed to just suck it up when he discovers that the Nauglers are dumping human waste on the ground and refuse to allow anyone to inspect it to be sure it’s not a hazard.
In Nicole’s twisted mind, laws only apply to me and Al and the neighbor and the other local critics. They do not apply to her, ever.