Thursday, February 11, 2010

So Quiet
I’m up, I’m up only an hour past my usual. And after taking care of said cat she’s yowling and looking at me as if I had something to do with her mistress’s demise. Della (cat)(Frieda’s cat) Had gone in circles some distance from me giving some kind of an odd look each time she comes around her puss facing me. A body could drop a bowling ball in here with nobody what ain’t impotent to hear it.
Speaking of hearing? I constantly hear a telephone ringing beside my ears I can’t answer. That telephone’s damn near as load as it what had originally insisted I take the problem to Doc. Boring I’ll tell it as it is. Two medications over with and gone with only a third one to finish taking over time aren’t the least it helping YET!
I got to wash my dirty dish, spoon, and two coffee cups this morning. I wouldn’t have had to have another cup if it weren’t for my super sizing it so I could stay under my blanky waiting for the woodstove’s heat to catch-up and surpass the furnace‘s out put. It got that cold in here my thinking “What the Hell! I don’t want to get out of my warm bed a couple time to feed the fire.
So much for my exciting morning at this time. Continued…..
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Some thoughts:
Record snows, loss of power, food shortages. I can’t help but silently laugh to myself over all the problems people are having with the snows falling, paralyzing, folks all over the nation. When I was a kid if we got snowed in, so what? We stayed home. No point in going out if the work was buried under snow. We had our own kept and fresh stores, and feed in the barn.
Mom baked bread, I carried in the firewood and coal as needed daily, Dad helped with chores and shoveling paths to do those chores for carried water. Fresh stuff from outside: fresh cows milk, fresh eggs, and maybe a freshly killed chicken if the need be. Busheled fruits, some root vegetables, stacked high in the basement, fresh vegetables stored in sand pits on a sandy hill top, Mom’s caned goods filled (covered) the ledges of our Michigan basement. Mom’s pantry held a hundred pounds flour and sugar, cans of backing powder and spices. The cows didn’t mind staying in, as I didn’t either during the worst snow storms. Eating was good (I MEAN GOOOD), the Round Oak stove warming. We read books, played board and card games by lamp light if necessary if need be. Nights long we went to bed. Days light we were up for every minute for it.
Snow removal? Three paths with a couple square pointed spades. One path each the wood pile, barn, and chicken coop. If the paths drifted in they were easy walking on. Those were fun carefree days we spent some summer time’s prepared for.
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Thank goodness, Terry had finally come across the road with my tractor and finished cleaning up the yard so I could bring Frieda in the house if she were released. While Terry moved snow I snuck down the road for a short coffee break.
Back home I called horsepistol. Frieda said she’d been released to come home either this afternoon or tomorrow morning. It wasn’t going to be tomorrow morning! I packed my butt into Ugly and was off. About two miles down the road I tried finding the only soul he knew who drove an automobile. He wasn’t home. Another mile down the road I realized I had forgotten Frieda’s clothes to dress to come home. While wheeling home I made a couple cell phone inquiries. Found nothing! Nearing Juan’s abode he was home and I wheeled in. His trailblazer bilt closer to the ground than my Ugly he picked my up at home and we were off.
At the hospital Frieda dressed ready to go, Hurley’s one and only fault the paperwork wasn’t completed??? Finally moving on down one them perpendicular bus lines we were out front sitting on the curb. My *&^%%*& cell-phone had failed to remember Juan’s entered number. He was supposedly parked somewhere on the six floored parking garage. An elevator to the top I walked down never finding Juan. If I had to walk all them miles around and around any more I’d been a patient in Hurley. Desperate I celled Bro’, “Do you have Juan’s number?” Finally getting a-hold of Juan, he had parked across the street. (?????)
Trying to load Frieda…err…help Frieda into the van we had some difficulty. She couldn’t lift herself on her only good limb. And, I could not get her up there without a little her. We’d even tried using a walker for extra support to no avail. Only option left she needed (I needed) a foot stool for her to step upon to gradually raise herself to comfortably seat herself in he van. Nobody had a stool. At an impasse somebody had taken pity upon the situation and brought out a stool. Then standing back holding myself in reserve I let a couple younger burley gentlemen flex their muscles during this time of need. So quickly handled I missed seeing happen. Thank goodness we were on our way.
Stopping by a bank on our way home the ore assayed in my poke (right one this time). A third of its contents could very likely be classified as fool’s gold. The bank will send me the tendered results in a few days, as this was an up coming holiday weekend.
Getting Her Mostess home wasn’t the whole my getting her home? I made her comfortable and headed out agin for our druggist to fill a fist full prescriptions. Now some this stuff had to been some pretty heavy stuff. I was kept in a locked safe. Holy Molly! Now I got to arm myself against intruders?
The poor ladies while not complaining I took them a couple quicker dry bales for this evening social feasting. I was near out of light.
Then trying to fix some kind of a supper for myself, Frieda’s on a diet, She’s not interested. I’m hungry even if I managed to think about a couple hours later than the usual?
It’d take another couple hours waiting upon her, changing her dressing Photobucket, moving stuff around. I all but threw my own ass out of the house to make room for her rolling her wheel chair around in here... Now, how’s this for re-bandaging a knee? BGKC.
Fernan

PS: It ain't quiet anymore.

2 comments:

Paula said...

Awww Fernan you're a pretty good ole hubby after all. I know you'll take good care of Frieda.

Donna said...

Looks good to me, Fernan.