Exasperation and Crazy Dogs!

 Exasperation and Crazy Dogs!

 

Patty called me about four or five times when my backdoor neighbors’ dogs—two of them—got out and decided to go down to bark at Patty’s dogs through the fence. About one snap, and the smallest dog would have been a snack for the brindle Pit Bull. The other dog was big, too, but it looked a little less scary. Anyway, got my big stick out and started down there to see if they could be run off, but it is just as well that they took off for the lake. Not too happy to try to run off someone’s dogs. Patty called Animal Control and then she encouraged me to do the same. The dogs came to my front yard and then took off for Church Street. Maybe the old man who lives over there called in as well. Whatever happens, those dogs need to be kept at home. Besides those two dogs, a German Shepherd came between my fence and Mark’s fence, but she took off as soon as she saw me. Think that she is the Acuna’s dog that lives on Texas Street.

 

Maria is coming to clean my house for me on Wednesday. By the time she gets here, it will definitely need it. The wind has been blowing sand and crud in every day this week. It’s only 61 degrees outside, but slightly warmer here in the house. Kinda cool. Not going to gripe about the cooler temps since the really hot stuff will be here soon. Just keeping clean water out for the hens has been a bit difficult with all the dirt blowing. The rain we got last night was hardly enough to do any good, but it beats nothing.

 

Called Sterling this morning after reading that they had a tornado close to his place there in NW Arkansas. He said he never knew about it, but he also sounded like whodathoughtit! Said he either had a cold or something close to it. Hoping it is not the flu. Read somewhere that the flu and this covid crud has combined in some places and is making folks mighty ill. We could definitely do without any more garbage viruses, any more tornadoes, any more fires, or any other types of stress-inducing factors.

 

Read a post by Stilton Jarlsberg this morning. He sounds somewhat more positive. Some of his friends and neighbors have decided to complete the flower bed that Kathy had him build for her. It might not be any great shakes like the scenery in Garvin Gardens up in Hot Springs, Arkansas, but if it means something to him and to his friends, that is what matters. Sometimes the things that grow in my yard make me think of those lost to me in this life. They will be in my heart so much longer than any blooming flower or clover—or the smells they produce. Deep sigh.

 

Brought my phone charger into the living room so it could be charged while it was close enough to answer if it buzzes at me. Not sure why it is so hard to remember to charge it. Oh well. Getting older and more forgetful by the day.

 

Really can’t imagine what kind of words Keith used when he fell this morning and took a picture of the horizon. Certainly hope that he wakes up in the morning without any sore spots. Know how that would affect me right now!! Horrors. The thoughts of falling are pretty scary at this point. Plugged in a music CD in my old computer and did some marching and lifting my arms to the 70s hits. It is not dancing—something others find useful for exercise—but at least it is moving body parts. Tomorrow maybe Diana (the PT lady) can tell me whether or not the surgeon will allow me to do PT here rather than go to that big gym place. Noise, people without masks, gasoline to get there and back, $40 per session, and just general uselessness is how it makes me feel. Stephen said that he thought the PT did the trick, but it just bugs me to consider going there again. Last time they kept asking me what was wrong with me when I could bend and raise my legs as they required. How they thought their knowing what was wrong with me would make any difference is beyond me. The head honcho knew, so that is all that mattered.

 

While Sterling was here, we asked ourselves how Mom was able to jump up and know a storm was on the way. We had no weather radio or other sources that would have warned us. We thought maybe she was super sensitive to dropping barometric pressure—like the beginning of a migraine or something. But when she hollered, “Hit the floor!” we always did exactly that. One of the things we learned early was to have our shoes and clothes folded and handy in the springtime. Living with Texas weather has been an education.

 

Since the Animal Control truck came by and the folks talked to me, guess the dogs won’t be coming back over for a little bit. Certainly hope that they found their way home again. Oh well.

 

Let us be grateful for all the many blessings we have. And let us pray for those who suffer from so much distress in this ol’ world. Rest well, and know: you are loved.