Tag Archives: The Squire

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!

 

The Party’s Over

22 Apr

When I went to fill the feeders this morning I discovered the front porch wide open, and about a dozen squirrels chowing down on peanuts.  The “regular” birdseed is in a galvanized trash can, so they  couldn’t get to it, and they had not been interested in the finch food, but – boy, howdy! – did they have a blast with the peanuts.

When Blazer and I went out to feed the fish last night, the dog found a snapping turtle headed for the pond.  I  called The Squire out to take care of that little problem and he had come out through the front door, and then inside via back door, leaving the slider wide open in the process.

Nothing a good vacuum and wipe down couldn’t fix. That and a new metal bucket with a secure lid.

 

Gonna Get Himself Killed

12 Apr

Blazer does not like to be tied out.

He used to runch himself out of his collar and go chasing up the hill. We bought him a harness – which he did NOT like. He snapped at The Squire in the process of putting it on, and we didn’t try it a second time. He didn’t connect, and I think he just wanted to make his point perfectly clear. Instead, The Squire put an extra hole in the collar, so it darned near strangles him, but at least he doesn’t back out of it anymore.

Today, I had some errands to run, so while my husband zipped around on the mower, I tied the dog outside to let the stink blow off, as my mum used to say.

When I came home, the dog was inside and The Squire was outside. I was informed that while he was mowing, The Squire caught a snapping turtle heading for the pond, and turned off the mower to deal with it. While he was turtle-wrangling, he heard tires squeal and horns blaring and looked up to see Blazer standing in the middle of the road!

The blasted dog had rolled around in the grass until he had gotten the lead unhooked and headed for the hills. Or, in this case, the street.

Houdini never had it so good.

You Talk Too Much

3 Apr

 

Last night was absolutely dreadful! I was in a terrible amount of pain from my throat, and was up and down several times, trying to either relieve the soreness, or just get myself bombed enough to sleep in spite of it. I even took a painkiller that had been given to me when I had my throat operation. It’s a wonder I didn’t poison myself! Not that I’d have cared at that point.

The doctor checked me out and we got that squared away – lungs clear, blowing my nose was unproductive, yadda, yadda.

I am still reading Dr. Warraich’s book, Modern Death, and we batted around our various horror stories. He had one patient who was braindead, and the family agreed to remove the tubes and machines. “How long will it take?” “Most people die within two or three days. Some longer and some shorter.” The machines were disconnected – and the family waited. And waited. And waited.

The woman began breathing on her own, and then sat up. She was completely lucid – other than the fact that she was convinced it was the early 1950s.  She discussed the place where she worked, believed Eisenhower was the President, knew where each of the children went to school, and was convinced her oldest son was her husband.

After a few days, she lapsed back into a come, only to awaken a few days later – in the 60s.  She woke up, a decade at a time. The doctor said she was just rebooting. Verrrry slowly. She recovered completely and walked out of the hospital, hale and healthy.

By the time The Squire and I sat down to whatever meal it was, my throat hurt so much  from chattering away that I couldn’t eat, and forget about talking. If nothing else, I’ve dropped several pounds with this plague. We have knitting on Monday evenings and Thursday mornings, and I’d missed Thursday’s get-together, but I was in no shape to go out tonight.  The Squire, bless him, offered to run to town and get my medicine (why do they give people with sore throats such BIG pills? Yeesh!) and drop off some stuff for the knitting group.

Sometimes, I look at him in complete wonderment. Where did he learn to be such a perfect husband, and what did I ever do to deserve his love?

The Plague and I

2 Apr

Since last Wednesday night I have been grappling with either the world’s worst cold or a case of strep. Probably the latter.

I called a friend from church on Wednesday evening and told her I wouldn’t be at knitting in the morning, and spent most of Thursday curled up in bed with hot tea and warm oatmeal.

The Squire kept me well supplied with books, tissues, and soft food. I’ve eaten a lot of scrambled eggs this week, I’ll tell you!  He even fixed me what passes for scrapple in our house, bless him. Oh, I am so lucky to be married to that man!

When you come down to it, I felt well enough to go to church this morning, but I can’t talk (oh! the horror!) and we’ll just draw a curtain over my attempts to sing. I had called a friend to serve as chalice bearer this morning, but he sent me an email at 10:05 saying he wouldn’t make it. If I’d known in time, I’d have shoveled myself into a heap and gone anyway. As long as somebody else read for me, we’d have managed.

I already have an appointment with the doctor for tomorrow, so while he checks my latest meds, I can have him take a look as my throat.

 

The Terrible, Horrible, Very Bad Day

22 Mar

Actually, today started out fairly well. There was a want-ad in the local paper for a receptionist, every other weekend, from 10AM to 7PM. I called and got the address, but the GPS didn’t like it, so halfway there I had to call The Squire and ask him for the phone number. I had omitted one digit from the address. Filled out the application and spoke with the lady at the desk, and things seem to be OK, but who knows?

I stopped to see Granddaughter-in-Love, and visited with her and the baby for a while. I had hoped to stop at a nursing home to visit two ladies from church, but I didn’t have time, as I had to stay with the other great-grandkids at 1:30, so “Mimi” (my daughter; their grandmother) could go to the dentist. Before she left, Mimi showed me where the Keurig machine was, as she knows I am a coffee hound.

That was when things went downhill in  hurry. Mimi was there when I arrived, and gave me a list of phone numbers and showed me where the snacks are located. “The Princess just went down for a nap, so she should be good until I get back. Butch has been down a while, so he might wake up in a half an hour or so.” She had no more than closed the door behind her when The Princess sat up in bed and started to cry. I watched on the monitor for a few moments, hoping she’d go back to sleep, but no such luck. I went up and opened her door, but the child-proof gate was also Gran-mama proof, so I couldn’t get in to collect her. I asked if she wanted to come over and I would pick her up, but she waved me away. Closed the door and she started wailing, loud enough to wake her baby brother.

Great.

Took Butch downstairs and sat him in his highchair, and I could see she had gotten out of bed; back upstairs and lifted her over the gate. Weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. I carried her downstairs and the three of us sat on the sofa. She stopped crying long enough to admire my shirt, and then rolled into a ball and started to fall asleep.

Butch crawled over and pulled her hair.

I couldn’t find their phone, and discovered I’d locked my purse – and my phone in my car. The Princess was bawling her eyes out, and I was afraid the neighbours would think I was killing her. I want my mama! Where is Mimi? Finally, I put shoes on the big one and hitched the little one on my hip, and we set off with the paper with the list on it, to knock on doors until I got somebody to call their mum. I was about to give up when a truck pulled in down the street, so we hustled over there. I introduced myself, and the fellow said he knew the children and their parents. He called my granddaughter at her work, and she came home immediately. As in five minutes!

She called The Squire, and he agreed to come up and rescue me. What else could he do, poor soul?

Granddaughter left Butch with me and took The Princess to work, long enough to clear her desk and forward the office calls. The Squire arrived a few moments later, and I told him about my day. It must be the phases of the moon, because he said he had written down the address and when he stepped out of the door the wind grabbed the slip of paper and tossed it into the stream.

And I couldn’t figure out how the Keurig machine worked.

Unsafe at Any Speed

24 Feb

On Wednesday, The Squire and I worked out at the “Y”, and I came home without my keys. I not only don’t like to wear a coat (although Heaven knows I haven’t needed one this year!), but I don’t like to carry a purse, especially if I’m with my husband. So I carried my keys with the pass card for the gym, and put them on the shelf so I could exercise without knocking somebody out with them.

We got an email that evening saying they’d been found and turned in, so the dear man had to go up on Thursday morning and retrieve them.

Took a shower that night and after I’d rinsed the shampoo out of my hair I poured some conditioner into my palm and industriously rubbed it into – my face!

This morning the dog began barking at some unseen object outside, so I stepped onto the patio to see what had caught his attention.  I heard a noise that sounded for all the world as if a baby was crying.

“Oh great. It’s bad enough they bring us cats and dogs. Now they’ve left us a kid!

The worst of it was that I never skipped a beat. It was just the way things go around here. It turned out to  be an irate squirrel, sitting in back of the cat, who paid him no mind whatsoever, pitching a fit because he was hungry. I called Eddie into the house and tossed a handful of peanuts across the concrete.