Saturday, October 11, 2008
Had to be today
I titled this entry last night for I’d had high hopes I could get back to resemblance of my normal Shorthorn country routine. I awoke this morning havin’ enjoyed a solid six hours sleep. I laid on my palliate thanking the mysteries of life my feeling well again. Then sitting up, a few moments passing, “Bam, Bam, Bam” them miserable lightening bolt stricks hit me again just north of my left temple. They hurt, unbelievable invisible sensations of a dull knife stabbing me head. It has to be a dull knife for it draws no blood. It’s strange in a child like mind sort-a way for I can’t see the hurt nor watch it’s progress watching a continually naughtily picked away scab be smaller each and every passing day. I can see superficial hurt healing, I can’t see this inviable hurt going away. My eyes drying I don’t know from where the tears keep emerging. I’ve taken the medication prescribed as “Take as needed for pain.” I hate taking pills. There intrusion is about the same as when I was a child my Mom hauled me into town three tines a week for hay fever shots, until I pit my foot down the beginning of my twelfth Summer. I demanded I no longer find myself sleeping away half my Summers. That was my first adolescent revolt. I didn’t (don’t) remember my terrible two’s. It’s likely just as well as I might have tried to top them. That’s one memory lapse what could be a classified as a good thing. Now if I could only remember why I had made such a rash promise I’d take care of her always when her family had emphatically abandoned her for her association (growing relationship) with me.
“Abandoned her for me.” Such a strange an unimaginable scene to come to my mind this morning. It’s liking the thought of worrying over the promise I had made her years ago. How/ who’s going to take care of her should I leave us first? BUT, enough of these morbid thoughts. A new day has dawned and it needs celebrating just as furiously as every sunrise we’ve all readily lived to date.
SOB!!! I was feeling better before I laid down last night. Is this a blessing? Is it a curse? Maybe a punishment? Truthfully there’re gathering just to damned many days I’d like to skip celebrating life. Writing this reminds me watching week old calves having finally gotten or found there legs their taken to either high-tailing circles about their mothers or high-tailing in a mass little cow mob across the pasture in nature’s associating ways of making and bonding with new friends in the process deciding who‘a the leader of their season’s rising new click. Oh yes, watch the animals. They are a deeper miracle’s force in nature than the highest percentage of people have never taken the time to watch, study and enjoy their contributing miracles. The animals will even talk to you if you take the time to learn their languages. Imagining Dr. Doolittle believable has him living.
Lollygagging, I was in no hurry to go outside. Checking on the ladies could wait. I’d seen they still had hay in tier feeders. Yup, they could wait. It was the easier I set the easier the spikes to my left temple area. My morning moratorium was noisily broken by my cell’s aggravating sound demanding I answer it. The troops were outside wanting me to come out and get in the way. It might be alright I figured if I moved slow. Slow moving I did. Getting outside I saw they’d try to catch-up the ladies. How ever they was going about it, It wasn’t working. I slowly moseyed down to the barn, fetched me a couple pails, came back uo to the shelled corn wagon a dipped me two half buckets corn and again moseyed down to barn right on around the east end a-walking through the barnyard. My pied piper pails in my hands the ladies right away took a shinning Saturday morning liking to me and came on a running. I walked no faster, though I wanted to, around the barn at my established pace. Thinking they were about to be run over for those pails contents I kept my slow poking walk. I had found earlier if I hurried it the head aching strikes came oftener and harder. I held my slow poking walk and the ladies seemingly knowing my plight they didn’t seem press me. I could commend them for that. Making my way past the gate that’d be closed behind them I spread the shelled corn out in an assortment of feeders: A couple bathtubs, a super large steel feeder made out of flat cut fuel oil tank once solidly welded together and bolted on two tiers 4x6” timber for a bull’s weigh lifting discouragement and one more small inside used stall feed lighter no bovine bothers to play with it. The majority of the ladies preoccupied with the grain I went around the barn the same way as the first joining the troops backed up behind a few stragglers. Hollering my piece I had them moving for I mince no meaning in the tone of my voice, they moved as I wanted them. I quietly assisted in the manning the head gate so’s the vet could pregnancy check the lot. Out of 77 ladies 6 were found open (without calf). They’s going to St Louis come Monday morning. Gosh Darn it, I’m gonna miss a couple of them.
After a leisurely spell sitting I moved on down the road. First time since the day before yesterday. I was going to start making hay. As lonmg as I sat still on that tractor I mowed some hqay without any more them lightening strikes. That was until the Mo-Co blew a hydraulic line. Nuts! A call for a ride I was taken to where I had parked Ugly earlier. Checking out the shelves and Hydraulic parts cabinet I found the parts for Mo-Co fix. I had time this evening if’en only I hadn’t stopped a couple times. Once to Thank Loopymom know I appreciated her letting Loopydad chauffer me around all day yesterday. The last stop was via a command appearance before her Mostess. I was to come right home for a physical therapist’s visit. What? They still coming for Frieda? They’s a week off. Turns out this gentleman had come to see me. I need physical therapy? The therapist (one) seeing I had been busy all day figured somebody had been misinformed a few of my needs. Leaving he told me a nurse (two) was coming to see me next. SOB, I’m beginning to feel as though the spirits are coming to visit me as the did that misery fellow Scrooge. Boy, somebody’s gotten my life’s story fouled up. I ain’t ever been that miserly. A closet lecher maybe. But I’ve not been stingy, at least with the complements. BGKC.