Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Darn, Double Darn It.

I swear, I can neither keep up nor get caught up around here…, hear? Only but three pieces firewood in the house. What seasoned wood there is its buried under a load of relatively green stuff. Foyer’s full of burnable trash needing condensing. There’s summer tools and such out there needing winter put away. Undependable weather forecasts mess up universally changed on the go-go lanes. My biggest problem I realize is I can’t keep up with myself!
Between hay making, baler repairs, unsuccessful weed control do to unreliable old mowing machine having been pushed further than it is capable of doing what has been asked of it. Nuts!!!
I’m hop-scotching across my calendar with my journal up-keeps. Nuts!!!!!!
Haying’s opportunities not yet done, loads of firewood still uncut, I’m tiring out and slowen down. Nuts!!!!!!!!!! And I’m sure snow’s coming.
Waking this AM I had another one of them rare feelings I was about to set the world on fire. Out the door, I set out on foot down to the barn. We (Sneak & I) hoped into dumpy truck to feed out about six bushel bread and a couple bushel carrots to the neighborhood ladies. That went well enough until we’d headed up the driveway. Both of us having a need I let Sneak go first. Big mistake!! A Gargantuan mystake!!!! While I waited in a line of one, I experienced another one them 102% fall outs. An Oop's had over taken me! Frieda suggested I must have taken a chill sometime during these last few days. Crap! Shower time again. I was scarcely cleaned up and I again had a repeated urge. Taken care of it without renewed disastrous miscomings I opted to stay home close to the facilities.
Well, while we hadn’t set the world on fire Sneak and I attempted to catch up on some household chores. Really more like household needs. While Sneak attacked the kitchen I took to hands on combat clearing out the foyer for it’s seasonal transformation into Winter’s wood shed. Sneak had also started more laundry. Lawd, I needed some, as it seems, clean emergency fallout recovery duds.
I got down and clever cutting up useful sized shop rags. I hate that kind of a shop job when I need a clean rag rat now and I’s grabbed some whole hat’s sized as a full scale garment. So if thing’s is going-a get made right, its up to me. Nuts. Threw-out some numbers of ruptured-knee/torn-pocket bibs. It’s evening now, and I’m still feeling queasy. Damned if it don’t feel like it might better be a depends night. Argh!

1 comment:

Donna said...

Hello, Fern: Just for you I did an entry with pictures of Cliff's Oliver project. I hope you're happy. By the way, I need your email again since I deleted my AOL account and that's where it was stored.