One Day at a Time.

  One Day at a Time.

 

Just talked to Michelle Malay about her day. She feels that she can’t really make plans in case the weather gets weird or her body aches worse than usual. Guess most folks feel a bit like that at times. But today at least a couple of things were accomplished around here: laundry! Never-ending source of work and more work. When it is all hauled into the kitchen to the washing machine, then the dryer gets its work done, and then the “folder” and “putter away of things” gets the rest of the job done. Sometimes it just feels as if it is an endless loop of dirty things that need to be washed and put away. But the blankets the dogs use have a tendency to get pretty rank if the washing gets put off too long. Whew!

 

Right now, the dogs are play-fighting with all the snorting and silly growls. They are so very funny! Cooked liver and bacon for them this morning, but still have not mixed up any veggies for them. Guess a couple of bags of peas and carrots might go well with the rest of the liver. They also had a boiled egg apiece. Gave Thompson the rest of the squash that started out as my lunch. He was not impressed with that or the apple. Oh well.

 

Read WAY too much about the Consort Queen and future King Charles and the mother of his children. Honestly, have no idea why it even interests me. Obviously, fidelity in marriage is not a big thing among royals. How sad. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have “leaders” who had some actual character and not just personality! But then, not many of our politicians even begin to know how much honesty means. God must be pretty disgusted with His children and their bad habits. Can say that my husband never strayed and was always faithful—and vice versa. Maybe more folks like us exist now than ever before, but how would we even know since only the bad stuff is published? And the older marriages may have been more honest than any we see today, or not. Some things we would just rather not even know. Whatever we tried to teach our children may or may not have been effective when we see all the situations in this current world. Shaking my head here.

 

Went down to get Patty’s trash bin earlier today and signed a paper as a witness for her. It reminded me that yours truly needs to do the same thing. She said she would try to remind me to bring the papers when returning the bin. Between the two of us, we might get this done. Had thought to have the housekeeper to sign as a witness next week—if that hits the memory cells just right! Have to have two witnesses to just about any legal document. Such is life.

 

Honestly don’t know diddly squat worth mentioning except to say that Mariellen Rose is still fighting the leukemia. Kathy Jarlsberg and her husband Stilton are pretty miserable. Kathy may—MAY—be getting a little bit better, but that just means that they will pour on more chemo. Barbaric! Insanity! If her bone marrow test is not good, there is nothing more that they can do for her. Maybe it would be best to just let her body fight for itself. The stupid stuff they are doing to her makes me want to shake someone! One nurse gave her Haldon that nearly caused her to go totally insane according to her husband. He had to leave the hospital in order to get one night’s sleep. He said that seeing his daughter J and her dog lifted his spirit. Let us pray for these folks with fervor. Only God can correct the stupidities and illnesses.

 

Guess the hens need to be checked on for now. They have spent the entire afternoon digging up the side lots. Must be something out there that makes them think it needs to be dug up! 

 

The snow and ice are about all gone now! Yay! While the moisture is wonderful, someone else can have that cold, cold air. The sunshine just feels so very good. Thank God for seasons!

 

Rest well, and find all the joys that you might have in life. You are loved.

Thawed Out!

 Thawed Out!

 

A bit of snow lines the side lots and the front yard, but it is so much nicer not to have to consider the ice now. Cleared off the dressed stone sidewalk out to the first hen coop. It is darker in there unless my eyes get used to it for a few minutes, but it obviously does not bother the hens. Right now they are out in the east side lot looking for whatever it is that they scratch out of the ground. Happy hens.

 

The ground feels mushy, so am hoping that the water has soaked in good enough to feed the grass roots. Maybe the wheat farmers will have a crop this year despite the late moisture.

 

Watched a murmuration of black birds a bit ago. We had oodles of them in the fall, but right now they are less abundant. Just not much out there for them to eat right now. The doves, blackbirds, and sparrows managed to get inside the hen house through the long coop, but they did not get into the chicken mash. The scratch in the little coop is just about enough to make it for another couple of weeks. Have not decided whether or not to buy more for the hens or just make them eat the mash. Scratch tends to make them have more body heat, so they may need that for one more month at least. March can be pretty cold sometimes.

 

Saw a post about the little boy who fell down into the well and died. So very sad. It reminded me just a bit about the little girl named Jessica who fell down a well here in Texas years ago. Our entire state was praying for that child. Guess it was true for this child as well. Sometimes it makes sense that wells aren’t plugged right away, but we never know when someone will come across one here in Texas—well, anywhere in the U.S. Mines, wells, deep gorges, and assorted chasms happen just about anywhere. Think West Virginia still has mines that have been burning for years because it is too difficult to either flood them or otherwise put out the fires. This world needs more men like Red Adair who could put out just about any kind of fire in a well. Many a “water” well turned out to be something other than water—poison gases included. Think my nephew used to work for Schullemberger when he lived in East Texas and had to plug poison gas wells. At least the little boy’s death did not cause other folks to die.

 

Some of the news that has made it to my awareness includes officers being shot, a guy getting out of his car at the local Walmart on Lawrence and shooting at the officers, a crossing guard saving a child’s life while the officer was struck by a car, and any number of other situations that make me shake my head in despair. Honestly think this world has gone to a new level of insanity. Would much rather sit here at the window and watch the pelicans circle over the house before they settle on the lake. Each life is important in this world. Wish that we could each hold out a prayer for those like Mariellen Rose, Kathy Jarlsberg, and anyone else who has been affected by cancer, covid, rheumatoid arthritis, or any number of maladies infesting our world. May God give us healing and peace of mind.

 

Until you get your next weather report from the old woman on Dickerson Hill, rest and touch the earth with your hands and heart. You are loved.

Warmer.

 Warmer.

 

The snow has begun to actually turn into water instead of just more ice. SO glad that is happening. We needed the moisture for sure. And here it is only a little past five in the afternoon, and the hens have all gone up to their roosts. Yep, it is still pretty cold out there. And the hens are not in the least bit fond of this white stuff.

 

Reading another whodunit that involves a family whose father has been president of the local college for quite a few years. No one in this story wants to just be open about their feelings involving anyone. Sounds kinda familiar compared to a few families in my acquaintance. Funny how entire counties can be wrapped around the nature of politics, athletic rivalries, and wealth—or its lack thereof. City or town rivalries can become silly to gruesome in some instances. Remembering how one family in Petrolia became the brunt of some really mean guys from Henrietta once. The brothers were considered strange when in fact they just had a genetic problem that had nothing at all to do with their sexual inclinations. But that did not prevent the Henrietta boys from nearly killing one of the Petrolia boys. Some of the Petrolia boys took a trip over to Henrietta one night and settled the problem and set the record straight. Even so, the entire situation was just plain stupid. Guess there are hardly any scenarios that don’t come up in some novel somewhere.

 

Recently noticed a post on FB about how folks have to box up and give away or sell some of the mementos from their parents. So many little things hold memories from when the children were young: little figurines, paintings, cards, pictures, and assorted boxes or framed things that held special meanings. It would never do to try to write down what each item is, where it came from, why it mattered. The cowbell on the front door, the longhorn sculptures hanging on the walls, the bookcase Lewis made, the cutting block table Fred made from the cross of an old church and the Singer sewing table legs, and the desk my daddy made for me for a graduation gift. My sister-in-law said that the little green window in our front door has to go with us when this house is sold or whatever because it always meant so much to her. Go figure. Our babies and grands used to enjoy looking out that little green sliding window, too. Anne just looked out of it to see if her dates were here yet. Yep, memories.

 

Jennifer told me when we were getting ready to put a roof on the house that they could put a new roof on the green house at the same time. It seemed like unnecessary expense to me, but it is certainly easy to see how many holes the hail put in that plexiglass now. The snow melts slowly and the water is just coming down inside the two big coops. Oh well. Not like it will rain all summer long! It would have really had to be a good stove to keep the vegetation from freezing in there, too. Will start over in the spring maybe. Or not. Just about rather put pot plants around the place and see what grows out front.

 

AnnaBeth Graf said that they got a freeze down there in Mississippi, too. Her lemon tree froze. She was sad, but it is not like she is alone in losing trees. Florida got hit pretty badly with weather, too. Guess we might as well get used to the idea of doing without citrus fruits. Life goes on.

 

Had some kind of meal this afternoon that mostly tasted like some wild fire spice. It contained rice, a bit of corn, pinto beans, black beans and some HOT spices. Healthy Choices meant eating what one could as quickly as the fires were put out!

 

 Dumber than a salted slice of dirty ice tonight. Not looking forward to many more times when we get more cold weather. In fact, we could just cancel winter at this point as far as the dogs, the hens, and the old woman are concerned. May have to let the kitchen faucets drip and the cabinet doors stand open for a week longer, but ready to see some days with temps in the 60s! Who knows: some grass might come up out there in the back yard!

 

Remind me not to gripe when the lawnmower needs to be brought out of the workshop this spring. Will have to talk to a Smith boy about that, but will enjoy watching the yard turn about any color except brown.

 

Remember to pray for those who can’t even begin to dig out of the snow and ice. Pray for those who are having to repair electric lines and water lines as well. Our world is not ready to exempt us from winter just yet.

 

Rest and find joy in whatever your hands find to do. You are loved.

Thawing Out!

 Thawing Out!

 

The Smiths came around eleven and dug me and the critters out of the ice and snow. Now the front ramp and the walkway are clear. The hens have been fed and watered. Ben left the door on the middle coop open just a bit, so Rhody and Athena decided to explore. It was funny to watch them because they really were not enamored with that cold white stuff. A couple of the Marans eventually ventured out there as well, but none of them stayed out. When it felt a little safer and most of the stuff out there looked softer than ice, yours truly took out my staff and walked out to put some treats in the middle coop. Not sure where Ben put the feed, but it must have been in the long coop. The feeder was for the mash was totally empty, so that had to be refilled. Think Ben just gave them scratch, but they are not picky. They had not scratch for two days during this mess, so they were probably ecstatic to get the “good” stuff. He also gave them some Brussel sprouts, so that gave them something to chase around.

 

Got to watch a video Nikki took of the boys going down Murphy’s Mountain in their canoe! It was hilarious, but today they planned to slide down the sides of the dam on the lake’s spillway. Being a kid was great, and now we get to enjoy watching the kids doing what we would have done in our day. But we don’t have to consider sore muscles from bumping around in a canoe!

 

Took a short nap in the sunshine this morning with the dogs. They piled onto the couch with me and enjoyed the warmth as much as an old woman. It felt so good to just be still and have the company of these dogs. Even though they have gained weight, they are still healthy looking and acting. Love to watch them play and kiss each other. Sylvia would groom Thompson if he would let her. She works his ears over every so often and he lets her do that. But it only works one way. He does not lick her ears for her. Guess that is what works for them.

 

Ben opened the middle door on the coop and was flocked by wild birds. He was really surprised. It never even occurred to me to warn him about them. Not exactly sure how they get inside, but they make themselves at home in the long end. Whether or not they get in the feed is not something of concern, but they will fly right at me as the door is opened. Shades of Alfred Hitchcock, ya know.

 

The Jarlsbergs still and very much need our prayers. He said that Kathy is losing her sense of reality. They did a brain scan because she is mumbling about weird stuff and found that the places that were bleeding before have healed. But now they are going to start another type of chemo. Bless the poor woman! This seems just a type of torture for her and her husband. Let’s remember the entire family in prayer—husband, daughter, and wife.

 

The heavy snow might accidentally give us enough moisture to help things grow soon. Oh! Would love to see my flower bed in front full of poppies again this year. And yes, someone went out there before this front came in and sprinkled a bunch of seeds!

 

Know less than nothing about anything worth talking about, but know the one thing that matters to me: God is in charge; my life is in His hands. Let us live in love and with all the happiness we can give to ourselves and to others. Let your faith be strong. You are loved.

Ice Bound.

 Ice Bound.

 

Yes, it was an ice storm first before this lovely layer of fluffy snow fell. Dear Hearts, it is slippery out there. For that reason, this old woman is inside, heaters going, dogs snuggling, and being tempted to go get under the electric blanket again.

 

Sharon Dickerson said that Jim is on her computer working on their taxes and does not even have all the forms from his job, etc. Oh, the Dickerson men are all of a kind—well, mostly.

 

Sterling called last night to check on me and to tell me to stay inside out of this mess. I agreed, especially after he assured me that my hens would be fine despite not being able to get out and roam around. One of them managed to get out yesterday morning while the door was opened. Didn’t see the sneaky little hen until late in the day. Had to bring the dogs back in so she would go inside again. Getting back up on the stairs to the deck was a bit scary, but the hen is in and all should be well out there—even if we lose power.

 

The mailman left something from the government in my box out by the street. And it will stay there until this mess thaws enough to be safe for boots and jeans. Can’t imagine it will be very important information. Most things from the government aren’t.

 

Sharon told me she had just made brownies that were very good. She made me feel pretty inadequate when thinking about the tamales taken out of a can for my own din-upper. But then, this morning dog food was prepared for the rest of this week and into the next. Two packages of liver, rice, broccoli/cauliflower, sweet potatoes all cooked and mixed together. Thompson would have preferred just liver, but such is life with an old woman.

Opening the curtain near the couch produces cold air and dog TV. These drapes that Michelle Malay gave me do a good job of keeping the cold air out of the living room. Some day someone will invent better windows that have built in blinds that adjust to let one see out without others seeing inside. In fact, those probably already exist. We have come a long way since the days of the cave. Mostly.

 

Lay down earlier to take a short nap along with two big dogs that have been adjusting to not being allowed on the bed. Today they left the adjusting behind and cuddled up to me. Sylvia kept my feet warm, and Thompson had my back. Good dogs.

 

Have put some ground up almonds and some packaged oatmeal out on the front bench for the birds. Hope it is good for them. Personally, the oatmeal is a major bust even though it is flavored with maple and brown sugar. Just bleah. It is not the kind Mother made, ya know. Will buy a box of the real thing once things can be delivered again. Have to send off and get some more dog kibble, too. It seems the dogs go through the stuff rather quickly even though they are getting real food on top of it. Maybe they will like oatmeal, too. Our dogs liked it when we were kids and Mom was insisting that we eat every bite. You KNOW what we were doing, of course. She figured it out and made the dog stay outside until we had finished out meal.

 

Even though the curtain is drawn, the songs of the birds out front tell me their species. Sparrows, of course, but also cardinals, starlings, a meadowlark, and some kind of brown thrush. Have some chicken treat stuff that could be put out, but not sure if that is a good idea. These birds have been making it a long time before folks started putting out bird seed.

 

Daughter-in-law sent me a text: Had a hen who could count her own eggs. She was a mathmachicken. Yes, you have my permission to roll your eyes now. But it made me smile.

 

Other than hoping the electricity does not fail, my knowledge of what is going on in the world is not worth anything at all. Counting sparrows and starlings on the front porch might not make the breaking news, ya know.

 

Let us pray for those who have to be out in this mess, the critters who must bear the brunt of the storm, and those who don’t have sense enough to sit still until it is safe to go out again. Rest, read, enjoy the stillness. You are loved.

 

Just Another Weather Report

 Just Another Weather Report

 

So, it is 29 degrees that feels like 17 degrees. How special. [Does anyone remember the church lady who used to say, “Now isn’t THAT special!”] Anyway, so very glad that the young man from Pinnacle who removed the stand from the roof line and put it on the side of the house was able to do so before the rain began and then turned to freezing rain. Supposedly this internet is now running about twice as fast as it was before—something along the lines of 300mg—whatever that means. Well, what it means is that Jennifer should be able to work online from my house when she comes to stay awhile.

 

Connie was trying to help me come up with some positive thoughts this morning and suggested: when all this surgery and recovery is over, things will feel SO much better. Not kidding myself to believe there won’t be any pain, but at least moving around should be less stressful. It reminds me just a little bit of when Lewis was having fits over something hurting, and he demanded a hammer. Not understanding what he was talking about, went and got him a hammer and handed it to him. He said, “No! I want YOU to hit my toe so it will be what is hurting instead of” . . . whatever it was. It was funny, but not. Seemed like he was constantly getting something mashed, cut, beat up, or whatever. Working with big Cat equipment was simply too dangerous! About the only dangerous things around here are these two dogs when they get the zoomies or the foxholes dug out by the hens.

 

Got one of those “ready meals” from Market Street, and the only thing ready about it was the roast beef. The carrots and the potatoes were still raw. Such fun. Oh well. Cooked those in some water and tried to offer each dog a piece of potato. Nope, no. Not gonna eat that. Such is the attitude of my non-hungry critters.

 

Do any of you all have trouble remembering what day of the week it is? Just asked Siri what day of the week it was, and she said she was sorry but did not understand the question. For pity’s sake! It’s one thing to get old and forgetful, but surely Siri has not been around that long! Guess it helps to keep a calendar next to the desk.

 

According to the weather report on my phone, it is supposed to be snowing heavily. Uh huh. Must be talking about a place north, south, east, or west of Lake Wichita ‘cause it is only coming down in the usual freezing rain. Guess there is not any sense in griping since we really need all the moisture we can get. Maybe this mess will save the wheat crop.

 

Know less than nothing to talk about today, not that that ever stopped me before, but just about talked and listened to all it takes to wear out my ears and tongue when Sterling called earlier and gave me the weather report for his area of Arkansas. Yep, ‘bout what you’d expect for two to three blankets north of here. Wood stoves, propane, electric heaters, and all the fiddlin’ around most of us could do to strike up a heat wave goes into keeping those folks warm up there. But it must keep them entertained. But then, the birth rate just keeps going up in them thar hills!

 

Let us remember to pray for those folks out in this mess for whatever reason. May God bless our EMTs, police and firemen, linemen, and those who serve us in other ways. Rest well, my friends, and enjoy the changing of the seasons. You are loved.

Grease Monkey Central

 A Repeat: 

Grease Monkey Central

 

When Fang used to come home covered in grease and dripping oil from every crevice of his clothes, I wondered if he actually wallowed in the stuff at work.  Today while I was helping him connect the four-wheel drive shaft under the tractor, I found out just what it takes to get an oil bath—one loose bolt.  We were trying to put in this greasy rod thing with six little balls on each end when a bolt suddenly spurted oil out as if it had ruptured an artery.  Fang didn’t even bother to crawl out and get out of the oil pool.  He called the bolt an interesting word and asked for the towels.  One roll of blue towels and some Viva paper towels later, he had the bolt tightened, his face wiped, his ear drained, and basically no longer had to do the back stroke to stay afloat under there.

 

I could never be a mechanic; it would simply be too expensive to keep all the parts clean and neat—not to mention the wasted oil that would flow from any bolts that actually needed more than hand tight to keep them bolted.  Perhaps I will stick to cooking and cleaning and maybe doing a bit outside in the flowerbeds.  As it is, my neck is burned from sitting out in the sun on the side of the tractor while I handed things to the real mechanic.  Fang put some salve on my neck when I realized it was burned.  He rubbed on it as if it were part of the tractor, so now I have two kinds of burn.  I feel for the grass underneath the tractor….

 

A dozen doves have entertained us lately while they ate all the bird seed they could possibly pack away.   They don’t sing; they just make noises that can eventually become monotonous.  The red-winged blackbirds have them beat any day for joyful noises.  But while we were out working on the tractor, I finally found a flock of cedar waxwings in the top of the big elm.  They apparently thought that we were pretty entertaining because they spent about three hours talking about us to one another.  That had to be what they were doing because there was not a sign of any food exchanges up there over the rooftop.  It makes me wonder what birds think about some of the silly things that they see us do.  The purple finches, of course, don’t care what we do just as long as we keep filling up the feeder.

 

We will undoubtedly pray over—or under--the tractor again tomorrow, but if everything keeps going together well, we will have it up and running no later than Saturday.  Maybe we won’t have to lease any goats for the back yard after all.