Baby, It’s Cold Out There

According to the weather bug on my computer, the temp is 25 degrees.  The sound of the wind whistling around the building makes it feel more like 25 below.  And the place is covered with ice — both the white kind, and the other, black ice that you don’t really see until you slip and fall on it.  This gal is staying inside and taking no chances, even if I could actually walk.  As for trying to drive my power chair, I have a feeling I would be skidding all over town in it without even trying.

Old wagon on country road, 2000 I took this photo several years ago, just because it caught my fancy.  I love things like this, old wagons, old houses, old barns.  I had been at a patient’s house when I worked for Hospice, and this old wagon had caught my eye the first time I drove out there, but I didn’t have my camera with me at the time.  That was before I started carrying the camera with me all the time, just for moments like this.  It was a winding country road, and with my sense of direction, I managed to get lost every time I went out there.  Of course, I can get lost in a closet with the door open, so that came as no surprise to me.  Fortunately, Hospice gave us directions and phone numbers, so I could check the directions, turn around and back track each day when I over shot the driveway, and eventually find the right house.  But this old wagon was on that road, so one day when I remembered to take the camera with me, I snapped the photo on the way back.  That was before I took the wrong turn and ended up on the wrong road, but at least I knew where I was then and finally made it to the next patient.

100_2569 My poor sweet potato leaves passed away a few days ago.  One day they were half way to the ceiling, looking healthy and robust, and the next day they were drooping over the jar and turning brown.  The mint is still thriving and the aloe, but both desperately need re-potting in ginormous buckets.   I guess I’ll have to do more online shopping for the pots and potting soil, which hopefully can be found in January.  I have some plastic buckets if they should become necessary, but don’t think I want to take a pick axe out to try to obtain some dirt anytime soon.

I’ve been cuddling under my half finished afghan 100_2571 while working on another one that isn’t so heavy at the time.  It really bugs me that I can only do a few stitches at a time, but then, I’ve lost the crochet hook I was using, so I’ve had to start a third one using a different size hook.  I’m sure my chair ate the other hook, and when I am able to life the chair up and look under it I’ll find the hook and probably a lot of other things that have been lost over the years.  Losing things and getting lost are two of my things.  If I turn one corner I’m completely lost, and if I put something down for a few minutes it disappears.  I have a game I play called “find the remote”.  My TV has been going for several days and nights because I can’t remember where I put the remote, no doubt in a place where I wouldn’t lose it.  That’s a dangerous thing to do here, because as soon as I put it down, it’s gone.  Don’t know why, don’t know how.  I think things grow feet and they run away from home.  They are probably all parading down Frederica street on their short little legs right now.



Help Arrived Today

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.






Two servings of cocktail shrimp with dipping s...


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

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.