My friend Carol came to visit tonight, bringing me shrimp cocktail, orange crush, and much needed help. Since breaking the shoulder I have been unable to take out my garbage, pick things up off the floor, or clean up any of the many train wrecks that occur on a daily basis around here.
Although my neighbors all came around the first couple of days, no one has shown up since then, so I’ve been making do with what I can ever since that horrible day three weeks ago. I had hoped the kids would do some pickup things for me when they visited on my birthday, but my kids aren’t built that way. So—I have a fridge full of penicillin growing containers of food, and the garbage containers were overflowing, because I can’t lift them. Carol swooped in and now things are tidy again—at least until the next train wreck. And there is leftover shrimp in the fridge. Yummy.
I will be eating well for the next few days, and Carol will be back to clean the penicillin out of my fridge in a few days. After that I can take the melted ice cream in the freezer down and do what I once swore I would do when I asked for a new refrigerator….pour the melted stuff on the head of the chief of maintenance, who was actually hired more for his pretty face than his ability to fix things.
Statesville Train Wreck-02 (Photo credit: Scott LePage)
Wow! I found a picture of a train wreck. As well as one of two shrimp cocktails. I’m on a roll tonight. I’ll have to try to keep the train wreck somewhere. Can’t seem to get my own photos to load right, but just maybe….
So, okay, I think I spent most of the day sleeping. And trying to find a way to scratch one of those places where you get an itch and it’s just out of reach. You know the kind. You try running a clothes hanger down your back from one direction, then from another direction. Then you try rubbing it against things, sorta like an old cow does under a tree. Look for a yardstick. Wish you could reach the back rubber you bought a thousand years ago and then put away up so high you need a ladder to reach it. And now, after forgetting about it for a while, I’m starting to itch again just writing about it. Darn! Where’s my knitting needle when I need it? I even have a pair of them and can’t find either of them.
I also can’t find the crochet hook I’ve been using for my afghans. I have two of them, the same size, and both are lost. Probably down in the chair I sit in, but they might as well be on Venus, with the other women. You know—Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus? Now that I think about it, my crochet hooks may have taken off to Mars with a man. Not much would surprise me these days — except to wake up and discover the past three weeks were a dream and my shoulder is okay. Well, almost bedtime. Y’all have a good one.
Oh, the faraway itch, Angie. I keep a plastic spaghetti picker-upper I bought in a dollar store. I keep it on the nightstand. I’m glad Carol came by to eat shrimp and take away some penicillin.
I had one of those spaghetti thingys but lost it several years ago. And my back scratchier finger thingy is just out of reach. I did finally find the knitting needles, and they work beautifully. I’m glad Carol took some of the penicillin away too, but there’s more growing now. And I sure wish I had a sand blaster for my sinuses right now.