St. Valentine’s Day

For the day it was supposed to be other than the exchange of greetings, nothing happen. There was no expensive exchanges of aphrodisiac dark rich chocolate candies. There was no mad passionate exchanges of pleasurable romping throughout the house. Where was however a genuinely slow day my taking care of Frieda’s more important needs: changing dressings and poking her with antibiotic shots. Extras included my seeing our Genie down the road for a slight longer ribbon stirrup on an exercise strap for Frieda’s modified limb. Even further down the road I sought out Mrs. Loopy. She graciously fixed me up with a fitting fashionable pouch for Frieda’s use to carry with at all times her senior citizen emergency help call cell phone.
I carried in more firewood piling it all the way to the top of one of my normal stove wood’s pile’s. I remained on close call to assist Frieda’s rising off the sofa. The wood hauler disappeared for awhile returned with a full load of cut and split stove wood. I picked up and packed the all the triggered live traps into the barn. There was the feeding the ladies. I got to go out back to see how one of my wood needing neighbor’s was fairing in a woodlot.
She’s up and down her wheelchair, tromping about the with and without her walker, and taking her pain medication as needed. Her knee’s stapled shut incision continues to weep plasma while otherwise looking good. Best of all she’s wearing a happy face. The kind of face I enjoy seeing all the day’s long.
I’ve got to fix my own supper while also trying to stay awake long enough to enjoy eating it…. Then it was my supper turned out so badly I popped me some popcorn to augment it. BGKC.
Fernan