Tag Archives: The Squire

I Ain’t Goin’

30 Sep

Yesterday I was struck with a fit of ambition and Blazer over to the park. Actually, it was that or go to the Y with The Squire, and I just find it hard to get jazzed up over sitting on a machine.

However…

We had a nice long walk – the loop is just shy of a mile and a half – and we were both pleasantly tired when we got home. Blazer was panting pretty badly;  I had walked him down the boat ramp so he could get a drink but the moving water startled him. He took one or two licks and then backed away quickly when the river lapped at his feet. He tanked up when we got home.

This morning I had a couple of errands to run, but it is cool enough – 60º at 12:30, up from 52º at 7:30 – that I didn’t feel he’d be in danger left in the car for ten minutes.  I grabbed his leash and suggested a ride. He took one look at me and went back to his bed. Normally, he will follow me outside, so I left the kitchen door unlatched and went to feed the birds.

The Squire said he told Blazer to “follow Momma” and the dog just looked at him and snorted.

Maybe we’ll try again on Monday.

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Downtown!

28 Sep

I’ve decided to re-register with Kelly Services; I enjoy getting out and about from time to time, and a few extra shekels wouldn’t hurt, either.  I called the Towson office and discovered they’ve closed that branch and everything is being handled downtown. And I do mean downtown. As in, the “crossroads of the city” – Baltimore and Charles streets. Yeesh.

I haven’t worked in town for decades, and everything I knew had changed. All the roadmaps I used to carry in my head are useless, now. So – The Squire said he would drive. (I knew he would!) He dropped me off in front of the building, and then went to the Maryland Historical Society to do some genealogy work until I called him. The interview went well, and the young man and I settled on some positions that would work for me. I’m not interested in anything longer than two weeks, unless it’s a steady part-time job. Monday-Wednesday-Friday for six months, or whatever. I feel pretty good about the whole thing, but I know personnel says a lot, and promises nothing.

A quick cell phone call to The Squire, and he said he’d pick me up on Cathedral Street. “One block up”, he said. What I’d forgotten, and he didn’t think to tell me, was that Cathedral Street. changes names at Baltimore , to become Lombard.  I looked the wrong direction at the corner, and didn’t see it, so I kept walking. When he finally caught up with me I was about three blocks west of where I should have been.

I should never be allowed out alone!

 

 

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

25 Sep

A couple of days ago I mentioned a gizmo one of the women in my knitting group was using to hold her yarn while she worked. The Squire asked me to draw him a sketch, because he wasn’t “seeing” what I described.

Yesterday afternoon, he locked himself in the workshop and came out later with this little gemyarnholder.  It’s two pieces of wood (maple, in this case), pegged together, and a dowel rod in the center of the flat piece. I wind the yarn onto the piece of PVC pipe, and slip the pipe over the spindle. The yarn unwinds as I work, and doesn’t go skittering all over the place.

As my sister used to say, I think I’m going to let him keep me.

 

It’s in the Blood

27 Aug

This morning, my feet were so swollen I couldn’t get into any of my shoes, and you could trace the rash’s progress up my legs –  a blister about every two or three inches up to my groin, in more or less a straight line.

The Squire went off to church, and I tried to find something to wear. When he got home, he helped me wrap my feet in gauze, to both protect them and squish them down so I could put something on my feet, other than fuzzy bedroom slippers.  (Yes, I know there are people who go out in public that way, but I’m not one of them.  Anyway, my slippers are in the attic with my winter clothes. ) Properly shod, we trotted off to Patient First.  I took that lovely picture of Lynn and me to show the doctor how badly I can blow up, and explained that when I was eight the doctor had told my mum that the poison was in my blood and they needed to keep a watch on any future cases. I got a rash on my scalp and on my eyelids. It is a mighty wonder I’m not blind.  And when that was over, I got boils.

Anyway, I explained to the doctor that while I realized PI was a “minor” complaint, I didn’t like the way this case was playing out.  She traced my spots up my leg and allowed as how she’d never seen such a thing, and gave me prednisone.

We stopped for lunch at a pizza place called Pie Five. You can select your crust – thin, Italian, yeast raised, or gluten free. Four or five sauces, and as many toppings as you wish. I was able to pile on double mushrooms, Kalamata olives, fresh tomatoes, and a few slices of mild-hot peppers. The Squire indulged his taste for “dead animals” and got pepperoni, sausage and bacon! A salad and breadsticks to share topping it all off. A bit more expensive than we expected, but we can eat again on the leftovers.

Bringing home a frozen pizza and cooking it in you oven may be handy, but honestly, you can’t beat a properly made pizza parlor pie.

Say that three times quickly.

 

 

One of Those Days

26 Aug

About a week ago, the blade belt on the tractor broke just as The Squire finished the front lawn. He called and ordered a replacement, which arrived this morning.  He and I both worked on getting the belt on the machine, which involved a lot of heavy lifting, pushing, pulling, and cursing.  Remove the deck, fuss and fiddle with the various pulleys, get bolts through holes, insert pins, etc. Very hard on knuckles and knees.

So – after several hours of this business, we finally got the tractor in working order.  The Squire hopped on and headed out to mow the back yard. He got about twenty feet, and the drive belt broke! We will draw a curtain over the scene that followed.

Many years ago, The Squire had my godson, Steven, help him with this job, and that young man suggested simply turning the mower on its side. Ah, if only that worked!

After dinner, I discovered I’d managed to get poison ivy on my feet. No idea how that happened. I can catch the darned stuff if the wind is in the right quarter, so I am pretty careful.  A year or so back, I got rash on the back of my calf, which I finally figured out came from the cuff of my boots; apparently I had walked through a patch of poison ivy and the oil was still “active” several months later.

ADDENDUM

The above was written last night.  I now have poison ivy all over my legs! I sleep on my back, with one leg or the other hooked under the opposite knee – think flamingos – and I seem to have spread the rash from my left foot to my right leg. Scratching it in my sleep didn’t help a bit!  Lovely. Just lovely.  I made up some aspirin and hand lotion and dabbed it on the spots, which killed the pain.  I wanted to get a pedicure on Monday, but that’s out of the question, now.

 

 

Swords Into Plowshares

21 Jul

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA Being left-handed and oldgetting up in years, dumb as a box or rocks, set in my ways, I have never learned to knit. Not for lack of willing teachers, but more a matter of having “iffy” hand and eye coordination.  And so, I have taken to using the loom in the picture. It can be slow going, but I enjoy it, and it keeps my hands occupied. You can always tell my work, because the only thing I can do is a cable stitch in the picture. You may have to squint.

When I went to knitting yesterday morning, I could find my “hook’. It’s a bit of bent metal set into a plastic handle, which is used to flip the bottom loop of yarn over the one on top. A crochet hook won’t work, so I was using my fingers. I mentioned this to The Squire in passing, not complaining, just wondering what on earth I had done with it.

“How does it look?”

I extended my index finger and bent it at a slight angle.

“OK. I know what you mean.”

He wandered off, and I heard the electric grinder going in the back room. He came back a few minutes later and presented me with a “new” hook. He’d taken a thin screwdriver, ground off the blade, and carefully bent it to the proper angle. He’d actually chosen a tool with a pocket clip, so I could keep it in my shirt pocket!

Spoiled? Moi? Never!

 

 

A Good Pair

23 Jun

Tuesday morning I bent over to pick something off the floor and hit my head on the corner of a cupboard so hard my teeth banged together. The Squire thought I was going to pass out. So did I for a moment or two. Since then my back has been giving me absolute fits.

I used to have a lot of trouble with my back, but I had surgery in September of 2015 to fuse two vertebrae in my neck. (I have photographic proof that me head is screwed on properly, in case anybody ever asks.) The pain I’m having now is in the same place as it was then. Have I compressed a disc? Have I torn something loose? I’ll find out on Monday. In the meantime I’m staggering from pillar to post with Lidocaine patches.

Yesterday morning I can home from a meeting at church to find the lawnmower on its side in the ditch along the road. Lovely. The Squire had been mowing, swatted at an insect, lost control of the machine, and the rest is history. He did manage to twist to the side so his feet weren’t damaged – that would have been a catastrophe – and he didn’t go in head first, but he banged up his shoulder rather famously. It is not broken or dislocated, but it is very sore and he can’t lift his arm past a certain point.

We had to go to the grocery store this morning, and we had a grand time getting the bags out of the cart and into the car, and then from the car to the house. I can’t bend and he can’t lift.

We make a good pair!