I was looking.....

[b] …….I’d be looking foreword to headache free day today, if I weren’t so wrong in that assumption. Shyit…….! I woke up thinking I was feeling just fine. Took my proverbial walk to the white man’s water hole and returned. The woodstove radiating cold, I opted for reassuming my horizontal position pulling my blanky’s comfort up tight under my beard. Then….., here they come…..,bam, bam, bam…., they cowardly started nailing me while I was down, and defenseless. I might just as well have gotten up, which I did. While I pondered my situation sorting the day’s rattlers I heard two sirens in the distance. It’s a wonder I hadn’t gotten at least three phone calls asking it they were for meant for one of us, asking, “Are you guys right?” It’s no easy task Frieda being the abusing wife and myself the dirty old man of upright society in this otherwise stalwart neighborhood.
Damned it these lightening attacks ain’t taking their physical tolls somewhere else. My forehead and check bones have taken up a dull ache of their own. Luckily(?) my face feels like an over used sadly abused punching bag missing only cauliflower-ed ears. The lucky part, I’m reminded in pain I still have a live face. Saves time looking for my obituary.
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Today’s time line
It’s 10:00 AM already, finally dressed for taking carte of the ladies in side yard. Being as where they are they have to be hand fed and watered.
The spikes are back with a near vengeance, even before I went outside, on a pain level eight. Came back in and took another pain relieved. That’d be two different brands in three hours. Am counting on them as not overdosed. Now sitting tight in my chair waiting for the results one-way or another. Why does it have to come down to what needs doing and what I can handle. I still need to repair that Mo-Co fractured hydraulic line. Then move whole combined machine off into the weed/bushes so’s I can collectively rake hay and bale it. I’d like to comfortably finish what I’d started last night, letting alone pressing on trying to do any more for today’s tomorrow. SOB, this so GD aggravating.
Damn, would you believe when I was younger my mother’s Michigan was the center of my universe. I occasionally traveled it’s rivers often paddling against the current. How about hiking in and exploring abandoned/unprotected mine sites in grown over wildernesses wrought with the last of the last known native wolves.
Broadening my landscapes when I vacation/hunted Wyoming I enjoyed hiking/climbing the mountains to visit holy places. Fun’s reward came as finding fossils; seeing unpublished pictograph sites, the art drawn by Indians hundreds of years ago, finding the hole in the wall, taking a drive seeing the tea pot (the Tea Pot Dome named for that rock) before and sadly after it had lost it’s spout, and how about driving eighty/ninety miles per hour going for ice-cream driving under dear jumping over a Mustang car’s hood. And the all time Pièce de résistance the time I made love to my beautiful bride on a mountain top ALTER the next visible mountain top seven miles away peeking through the clouds separating our combined souls from the earth’s civilization below.
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Time line 5:00 PM
Since lunch, I’ve raked and baled some hay. The some hay was until the string tiring acuator quit working. I had to bring the whole thing home and dump it feeding out. While I was at I went after the second bale to feed it out as quickly as I could. I’d rolled that one the absolute so loop sided worst I’ve ever imagined I wanted it eatened before it were seen.
The lightening strikes are easing up in intensity and numbers giving way to a growing head encompassing migraine. If there’s anything I’ve been so lucky to have enjoyed it has been the variety I’ve lived my life in through varied loves and pain.
Time line 5:45 PM
Evening rattlers taken, I mounted the tractor to the shop I did go. Tried again the actuator’s workings, then unbolted it remaining froze. Taken apart I did find BB sized like ball bearings rust through and through. What rusted solid mass/mess that worm drive is going to need a fix. As it rests soaking in oil inside the shop tonight it’s only the easy half thus taken apart.
Time line 7:45 PM
Driven home, cows in barn’s side yard hayed again, it supper time for me too. The yard light’s a near full moon, one what was once good for a might hearty spoon.
Supper’s eaten, eye lids tried Short country’s seein’ me tired. I’ll sleep good this night. BGKC.
Fernan