3-10-2011 Phooey Rain
A-wake at 5:00 AM, grabbing a few pieces of fire-wood, looking out the front door, I saw the deck was wet and I could hear rain water dripping off the eves. They’d be no cutting wood this day. If this melt is going to be so seasonally persistent I had better move a load of fire wood back up to the deck before the snow melt. I’m afraid the next few exceptionally warm days could turn the grassy area around this house into a tire churned muddy moat.
This chore must now be ideally attended to while the wood-hauler is unoccupied by another farm or home matter. (sigh) This is just another one more heavy burden making decision!
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Out doing the day’s chores earlier today here and half way down the road I believe I came back in just as wet inside as I had socked the outside. The heat felt good. Got another load of wood backed up to the deck. And…..
I’ve got to write it. It is so icy out here in these farmyards my pulling the electric fence wire gate handle to the right, to close the gate, my feet were sliding to the left.
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A quick lunch after I had loaded the wood-hauler and backed up to the deck. I was ready for Sir William’s lift when he had arrived to give me a lift about a number of shopping sites. Made fives stops in my shopping circuit having to repeat one to have TSC make good a discount coupon. We brought home parts for noth Chevy trucks, briefs’n’socks, groceries, and some initiated help with some money matters at the bank, the bank taking on AOL...
The best (disgusted) part had to have been my getting this unholy urge after returning home; my unloading, putting things away, and my settling in the house. Her dingbat, she tells me I need to pick up her prescriptions. “The urge to kill!” Argh! As hard as it was to find an able bodied person healthy enough with a free afternoon to cart me around; I’m gotten this primeval Mr. McNasty urge to kill. Arrggghhhh!!!!!
Well now, seeing what luck I’ll have with the weather and giving the Ugly truck another try I’ll see what happens with it. (Grumble, grumble, growl, growl, ding’a’ling, Ding Dong!?!?!?) it’s is no wonder my hair has turned gray.
I should kick her butt out the house and promise I’ll leave the door unlocked until she’s completed eight mile round trip walk. (grrrrr) This has got to be another new height of thoughtlessness!
“Rainbows.”
Fernan