Red lipsticked bunny

First thing up each morning I sort and take my rattlers. So cold hearted is my woodstove this morning, while I was sitting here under my favorite blanky, that iron dragon in the basement dungeon came on. I'm going to fire that God Damned parlor woodstove; and, snow's only a month away!
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Something somebody has said “Red.“ I’m reminded a second New Year's Eve Square dance! At midnight some gal wearing RED strawberry flavored lipstick kissed me. I spent the rest of that morning kissing every party gal what'd let me...and everyone of them let me! I never did find her, her strawberry lips. What I did find was after Frieda had suffered a fainting spell; a couple women were suggestin’ she needed to consult a rabbit, a-kind-a making references without saying anything sure, and I stood there stupid faced and asked the all time classic question! "How'd that happen?"
PS: It took ten more years and six more kids before we figure it out and quit fightin‘.
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This God damned woodstove is as finicky as a hungry wife if’en I ain’t feeding it all the time it just might go out without me.
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Shop time, I finished drive chain repairs. What I was looking for was sit down work. (so much for that) My head’s undoing was having to unavoidably walk around. Had to grind rivets off a chain link, find a half link replacement among other things like tools and other miscellaneous parts. To much motion and the headache returned again deadening my mind’s working like remembering what I’m doing? Baler fixed I could legitimately come home for lunch. Frieda’s always saying eat something and your headache will go away. It was the sitting srill what did the trick.
Got out and down road mowing hay. It was nice to be out upon a field again enjoying the fall colors and wildlife scurrying hither and yond. In a sitting position keeping bodily movement to a minimum my head ache is lessened. A third of the field mowed I quit for today. Will rake and bale this tomorrow and mow again for the next day.
Getting back home it was chore time. Finishing outside I could finally put my mind to rest. Fixing to pickup the phone and call Doc with my first third day head report, Her Mostess had already called him and made me a Sugar Tolerance Test appointment for me come Saturday morning in Doc’s clinic. After sex….err….six PM tomorrow night I’m only allowed water. I wonder if I can use first making a ten gallon wine batch.
Only five weeks and a couple days more it’ll be Herr Clink’s champagne and my “plum weary wine” celebration’s night. I’ll deplore in advance she doesn’t need any more skillets. As for her limb’s physical fitness, her range of motion’s getting higher everyday. Rather than wait for that last moment’s protection I’ve already taking measures to protect my backside shoving a heavy-duty trash can lid into the seat o’ my pants.
Using a digital BP machine Bro’ hasn’t been using, my tonight’s BP is 134/70 p 61.
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A local close call on our road over night. A shirt shirt-tailed neighbor relation has banished the grim reaper for the meantime. Trying to avoid a deer, she tried steering to the shoulder of the road. Her tires sliding on the road’s graveled shoulder she lost control, rolling her car over again and again perhaps even an end-o landing in a combination drain and deep ditch. She remains in ICU this evening wearing a stiff collar about her neck. Upon her face and body she’s sporting a number black and blue bruises complementing her Frankenstein stitches completing accidental look. She may be released tomorrow. The car’s totaled. A very lucky girl. I’ve always told mine, “Hit the deer. It’s safer than hitting a cross country tree.”
BGKC.
Fernan