Had a hard night’s….
….sleep liking a log. Up only twice, neglected the stove, and woke up to the tinnitus sounds of leaking steam behind my back. I can’t figure what set these sounds off in the back of my skull. Looked like I was getting an extra early busy day to woiking to mask, shadow, or remove his aggravating sound out of my mind.
I don’t know it its just me alone or are the days growing shorter are speeding up? Seems like I’m more and more daily racing the evening hour trying to finish up my chores loosing this advancing season’s shortened useful hours. Arrggghhhh!!!!! More Later….
This is the way some of it goes in this house….. A few days ago (I don’t remember how many!) I sat down in my chair and found my bottom back side coming in contact with a Swedish army knife. I jokingly accused Sneak of trying to stab me in the back. Well, that was then, this is now. Obviously he’s side saddled up to the ‘puter, for this morning I found a pocket flashlite down aside the cushion one side the my favorite chair and a super large sized fire-lighter down the other. I had to ask him, “What were these? A spot-lite so’s I might see to lite excessive intestinal gas (flatulence)* for an extra flame source to help heat this dwelling?”
Sneaks laughs. Nearly historically!
His mother recovering first, Her Mostess chimed in with, “It’s a good thing we all have a good sense of humor!”
Ahem, While I may have had a smile on my face, I wasn’t out’n’out laughing. (chuckle) I’d much rather he’d loose large sums of money in my chair. The quieter linen impregnated folding kind of greenbacks enough so’s I may truly become accustomed to a higher standard of living. (grin) Nough of this!
Oh crap! Got another batch of forms in the mail yesterday I must fill out and return; and, get this, in a self addressed n stoomped envelope.
Who thinks up all this goobermint mumbo-jumbo up?
…..It’s later and I’m home and in. Been a busy day. I’ve finally finished the lower barn’s backside service door. Well, almost, Have to either find a key for that door’s padlock or cut it off. That key not on my key ring perhaps there’s key on somebody else’s key ring.
Desperately need firewood toted into this house. Both the Dumpy truck and the Cushman need emptying out. Instead of doing that with the near immediacy the carpenter work finished, Sneak had called worrying about what he was going make for his next week’s carried lunches. So I fed my ladies, took my pills and moseyed over to the Crossroads for but a very few groceries. What the heck, having driven that far one more mile I picked us up four Friday nite fish dinners. Those smells tempting me I stopped for Sneak’s packed vittles supplies, plus sugar and cookies for her Mostess’s wants. Then it happened….Darn, darn, darn, I had walked away for the cashier forgetting my wallet. A kindly young man had run after me giving it back to me. I thanked him and turned to complete my journey home. I stopped, stood in my tracks my mind having gone blank. Scary!!! It was! What next? My crashing into my wall sometime earlier had finally caught up with me? Empty headed I stood there almost on my way out through the foyer. Which way out my mind questioned my memory? Is this a first sign of a schizophrenic* mind? That foyer with two entrances, one left the other right, also had found I had also forgotten where I had parked Dumpy. What seemed an eternal moment gone by I thought I had remembered my coming in the door from he right. I had a direction to go right or wrong; but, I was on my way. I figured as big as my dumpy truck was I shouldn’t have had any trouble finding it. True to my thought there stood Dumpy but two handicrapper parking spaces from the door. I figured I was on a roll.
Comfortably seated in Dumpy, belted in, the beast started easily. Then refused to go into gear. What the? I killed engine the transmission shifting easily given a dead engines second chance and headed home. Making my driveway Sundown was but thirty minutes away plus an added ten or so fading twilight. Forget it. I wasn’t going to clear the cargo deck of any vehicle. I was shot in both mind and body.
I ate half my fish dinner, as did Frieda, and I had a couple cookies from my pleasured purchase some famous brand coconut macaroons. Yum. They’re all for me. (grin) Frieda doesn’t like coconut.
How about this? I had some doubts whether I could finish writing this entry I had started this morning. Hooray, I’ve done it! It’s written!
*(flatulence): vulgar translation; gas, fart.
*schizophrenic: I cold turkey spelled this word perfectly a little while ago. Unbelievable. A word like that normally had been good for at least an hour’s research time. (hat size had instantly grown two/three sizes larger).