One fine day

For 52 years it has never ceased to amaze me how easily it seams to me my arse is always in trouble. When 9:00AM rolled around, with my mate beside me, we were off and running to find her a book, lingerie, and some-thing pretty to wear.
First stop was the Clio senior center for crafts room yarn for Frieda’s knitting projects. Frieda makes receiving blankets for our favorite hospital for premature birth surprises. We also looked over the fine selection of books upon the book shelves. The books at the center may be purchased from two bit’s a paper back up to a buck for a hard cover. Out of a 7 book selection I got me another Louie Lamoure book and all for three dollars. Normally a lending library Frieda wanted to pay for them should one come-up missing during her stay in the horsepistol. I also borrowed a walker for Frieda’s use around Clio town, having forgotten to bring one of ours along with us.
Next stop, I dropped Frieda off at the Goodwill store for some odds and ends shopping, for the next to the best deals around here. Leaving her, I went on to our bank’s branch office to make some account adjustments. Then backtracked to TSC. To pick me up a couple wrenches and cat food.
My leaving TSC Goodwill was only but a couple doors west the TSC. Hmmmm, rather than pull out on state road M-57, Ugly more or less took for a short cross-country trip over a snow bank between the two parking lots, and what to my wondering eyes should I see, Herr Mostess picking them up and setting them down, her two feet and the walker’s four rubber tipped feet. Pulling up along side her she was in a more liking a Herr Clink mood so mad she was she had tears in her eyes while she laid her built up what-for‘s upon me. Good thing I was there so’s she let it all out. First and foremost they had no seats for a tired lady to rest upon. Add to that when she hadn’t found anything to her liking they denied her using their phone to call me, her shopping there done. Whew, was she steamed. So steamed she wouldn’t let me go back inside with her to let me see what I might find something for her!!!
Next stop I took down the road for a thrilling shopping experience at K-mart. Hey, I thought I had it made. Seeing on of them electric scooters in the handicap parking spaces I wheeled us right in beside it. Expecting no less than a rest full drive for her use we got her loaded aboard to fine the mechanical animal had died. Crap! Abandoning the scooter she had to walk in. Inside the doors I informed a kindly employee of the scooter’s dreaded condition. Concerned, she at least found Her Mostess a wheel chair for her seating for myself furnishing the power behind it to cover the store. The store watching the borrowed walker we were off covering the isles in some smooth style. Shopping light traffic was light. Getting around was easy. We found her lingerie, and some men’s socks. Wheeling her to housewares she found herself a slotted spoon, a colander sort of handled basket, and some closing-out glass soup bowls for less than half price. Everybody happy it were once more time to head us up and move us out.
Well leaving was a good idea in itself. Only when I had gotten her wheeled out to Ugly’s side she couldn’t get out of the chair on her own. Then I could not get her out of the chair on my own. It were about here we started drawing a crowd. Somebody holding the chair minus parking brakes, Frieda’s hands in my hands leaning back as in pulling, and two more folks hands under her arms we moved the cow…..er…..Frieda’s wedged in form out of the uncompromising wheel chair. What a relief getting out of that grabber. I hadn’t brought a tow bar along with us.
Three more stops: gasoline, non existent picnic paper plate holders (wont be in for another three weeks for spring sales), and dropping he walker back off at the senior center before going Otisville.
In Otisville we picked up Frieda’s one refilled prescription. Then slipped down Otisville’s whole half block business district for the Fairway store in high hopes Frieda finding yarn. She did manage to fine three scans and the encouraging info this store is no longer carrying Frieda’s preferred good yarn. Likely another product probably lost to dying USA manufacturing. We’ll likely have to bow to yak-yak processed wool from the Gobby Desert just as soon as some china-man figures out a way to get it to a container ship waiting at the coast????????
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While in Otisville I took Frieda out for a belated brunch at the corner café. Shucks, again Tara wasn’t working the tables today!
Getting back late I found myself in a panic to re-supply shelled corn before the weekend. In spite my hurrying it were no good. The Sixguys’ farm had started hauling out beans and I couldn’t get my shelled corn until next Tuesday. Oh well, now maybe that’s why our homemade northern chilli and cornbread is made the way it is?!
Back home again trailing disappointment behind me, I moved right on out to the hay yard to see to my ladies eating. Checking my traps, what do I see but just as figured there was one cat in one of them. And who should it happen to be but Sweetheart. To either show her a thing or two or to learn her another durn good lesson I let her cry out to me her predicament as I went about the ladies needs first AND THEN, when I got a round tuit, I gave Sweetheart a durn good shaking inside that wire trap before flipping it upside down for the trap door to flop open. And when it did She was gone leaving nary a track behind her moving over the snow back to the barn as if I had lit her afterburner.
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Getting in at about dark, having had a late brunch lunch I popped me some corn for a start. Now plan on finishing with a chunk of cheese and an apple. BGKC.
Fernan