Tag Archives: The Squire

Running on Fumes

5 Feb

Living in the woods as we do, our leaf removal problem can be a beast. Years past we would hire a gang of likely teenaged boys from church, and they would spend most of a day here, driving around the property on the lawn tractor, piling leaves into the cart, dumping them, and repeat as necessary. Fuel them up on pizza, and we were all happy. (Nothing pleases an underage fellow more than being able to drive a tractor. It may not be a souped-up car, but it’ll do j-u-u-s-t fine.)

Unfortunately, all those young men are married or moved and The Squire is left to haul his own leaves. A few days ago he posted on FreeCycle that he was in need of a snowplow for the tractor, not to remove snow, but to push leaves.

Last night he got a response from a man not too far away who had one to give, so he hopped into the van and headed off. He called me from there to say the “check engine” light had come on and he was going to swing into the dealership for them to take a look, and then probably take it back on Monday. About ten minutes later he called again, sounding shaky, to say he couldn’t drive the car in “this condition” and please come get him.

The catalytic converter had gone flooey and was spewing unburned gasoline fumes into the passenger compartment. He had opened all the windows, but he was getting dizzy and had to get out once and walk around before he finished the drive. He considered himself lucky to have gotten to the shop alive.

Folding him up and shoe-horning him into the Nissan was a challenge!  He is not that much taller than I am, but he has longer legs and a shorter torso, so his knees were under his chin when he got into my car, and the seat was so low that to hear him tell it he was almost on the floor. He shoved to seat back as far as it would go, and when I got into the passenger side this morning I felt as if I was sitting in the trunk.

I have the feeling this trip to the dealer is going to take a large bite out of our tax refund.

 

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Merry Christmas

27 Dec

True to form, Resurrection was in full disorganized religion mode on the 24th.  The folks listed in the bulletin to serve as readers and ushers were not the ones who were actually scheduled, and our supply was so late – she lives in Hagerstown, and traffic was unbelieveable – that we were discussing whether or not I should just go ahead and do Evening Prayer.

Fortunately, Rev. B came scurrying up the sidewalk with seconds to spare, and all was well. (We had a situation several weeks ago when the supply neither showed nor called, and we had to do Morning Prayer at the last minute.)

We’ve been using a powerpoint system for the last year or so, as a convenience for people who weren’t born with enough arms to juggle a hymnal and a BCP – which is most of us! About halfway through the service, the computer died, and we were left going “by the book”. We started off doing Rite I, and then switched to Rite II after the Offertory. Prayer C, to make it even more interesting.

We do not have services on Christmas Day. The concensus is that not even our rowdy group could get into enough trouble overnight to need the extra service. The last time we had a Christmas Day mass was about fifteen years ago, when the entire congregation consisted of the rector, the organist, her husband, and her parents – who did not speak English.

Eldest Daughter and her family came down around noon on Christmas Day to give us a gift. We had told them not to get us anything, but she said “they’d had a good year” and wanted to give us something anyway.

A fifty-inch flat screen TV! The Squire is in seventh heaven!

We zipped over to the grocery store last night, but other than that we stayed put. The day after Christmas is, if anything,  worse than the day after Thanksgiving when it comes to malls and shops, and we avoid that sort of aggravation whenever possible. We needed birdseed, and I’m working this week, so I wanted to get some peanut butter crackers to keep in the desk. Just as well I did, as The Squire packed my breakfast and I left it home.

That’s gratitude for ya!

 

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Watch Your Step!

17 Dec

We woke up this morning to find the entire world encased in ice. The Squire took these shots when he went out to get the paper and mail: one is a tree right outside the den window, and the other is a picture of the pond, looking toward the road. As you can see, even though it is mid-December, the grass is still fairly green.

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When I filled the various bird feeders, they were all wrapped in solid sheets of ice, and I had a dickens of a time getting them off the post. Then I had to bang on this one with a stick to loosen the lid so I could unscrew it.

Ice feeder.JPGI know the ice is dangerous and all that, but it certainly is lovely.

The Squire had to take the car out to the mailbox, as it was too icy for him to walk. Normally, going after the ail-may is Blazer’s favorite part of the day, but not this time. He’d have pulled The Squire off his feet!

And, yes, we have taken to speaking Pig Latin around the og-day, but he has begun to understand what we are saying. Too smart for his own good, that one!

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Happy, Happy!

29 Nov

Today is The Squire’s birthday, and yesterday was our wedding anniversary. Like our Thanksgiving, our celebration was low-key.  We went to a favorite restaurant for a late lunch, and then sat up and read half the night.

Last of the swingers, that’s us!

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How to Waste Time…

25 Nov

…without really trying.

After we ate dinner yesterday afternoon, The Squire and I started on our Christmas cards. We always try to get this job out of the way as soon after Thanksgiving as possible, because we always have an Open House on Advent III. This year, Advent IV is a full week before Christmas, so it really cuts us short.

The Squire found an appropriate Bible verse, and we printed off the cards, and then I started addressing them. My handwriting is marginally better than his, but that is faint praise, indeed.

First, I had to fix us each a cup of hot chocolate. About twenty minutes later the phone rang; Harford County 911 said there was a fire alarm at church, and they couldn’t get anybody else. The Squire was ready for bed, so I had to call around and see if I could rouse somebody. Address one card, then I needed an address for  “new person”. Get The Squire back down stairs to rummage around on his computer.

The dog wants out.  The cat wants in. The dog has been out too long, so I called him. Nada. His empty collar is on the end if the rope. Get a Milk-Bone and his leash, pull off my slippers and put on my boots, and fall over him sitting on the door step.

Back to the business at hand. Address two more cards.

It took me four hours to address two dozen cards.

This morning we got the winter clothing out of the attic. Sorted, tried on, and tossed. I went up to the Goodwill store and dropped off a huge bag of stuff, including two short, stubby glasses (highballs?) engraved with a “P, courtesy of my parents, and an old tackle box. Both had been on Freecycle twice with no takers, so out they go.

 

 

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Little Children, Come Out and Play…

14 Nov

…the moon is shining bright as day.

Last night, when the Super Moon came up, it was so large it looked as if it was going to roll right down our road and flatten everything in its path. By the time it rose to overhead, it really was “as bright as day”. Simply beautiful.

It’s just as well last night was lovely, as it has been cloudy all day long today. It looks as if it wants to rain, but at least the cloud cover is keeping all the warm air from blowing into the sky.

Habit is a wonderful thing.

The Squire and I were sitting in the living room last night, and I announced I was going to bed, placed my bookmark, and shut the book. The Squire took a pieces of paper and carefully laid it on top of his Nook.

And then roared with laughter!

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Pyloric Stenosis

11 Nov

If it isn’t one thing…

…it’s something else.  Eldest daughter called here shortly before 1 PM to say our grandson’s wife was heading to the hospital because their little boy was having projectile vomiting and dry diapers. Classic pyloric stenosis.  This is a condition were the opening between the stomach and the intestines is either blocked or very narrow, and the baby cannot get any nourishment from the food ingested. It is obviously  life-threatening, but it is cured with a fairly simply surgical procedure.  Or as simple as surgery can be on an infant only a month old. He is on IVs right now, and they will do the surgery in the morning. Kristen’s sister is with her, as is her sister-in-law, but she is still a nervous wreck.

Poor Kristen is having to handle this very frightening situation when her husband is in the Middle East.  As a shirt-tail member of the medical profession I know what this is, but it’s an entirely different situation when it is your first-born, an only child – and you’re alone. And it’s no picnic for Matthew, either, to be far away and unable to offer “aid and comfort”.

So far, they’ve had to deal with Kristin’s paralysis, jaundice, and now this. OK. Enough, please!

On the brighter side, it seems the pain in The Squire’s tummy is a reaction to medicine prescribed for the pain in his feet. Well, there are a zillion different pain killers on the market, so we’ll be able to handle that without too much trouble.

The man is a fast reader. He went to the library on Wednesday morning and last night he finished reading At The Sign of Triumph, in spite of having been  on the road most of yesterday. All eight hundred pages. Yeesh!

I started in on it this morning, but I’m not making nearly the progress he made!

 

 

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And Now, We All Have a New King

9 Nov

Or so said Edward VIII.  And, today is also the anniversary of Krystal Nacht, which somehow just seems wildly appropriate.

And it is raining, to boot.

So – The Squire is settled in the recliner, reading the latest David Weber Safehold book, and I took advantage of the damp weather and his journey to outer space to pull the wallpaper off the dollhouse, and rebuild the drawers. All three drawers had come unglued, and one of them was missing a side and the back, so I dug out a piece of basswood and cut those. Much clamping and stacking of books.

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These pictures look as if they were taken in a haunted house!  There was a Monet over the fireplace; no idea where that went. Probably “classing up” some mouse’s nest, I imagine. The paper came off the bedroom walls in one large piece, but the moulding stayed put. This is rather mysterious, as the moulding was glued to the paper. Beats me.

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Standard Time Blues

6 Nov

All last week, I had to be up at 5:30 to get myself scraped into a heap, made reasonably presentable, run a rake through my hair, and get out the door. Saturday morning – yesterday – Blazer decided 5:30 was time enough for me to crawl out of bed.

This morning, the silly dog was still on daylight time, and had me out of bed at half-past four. Thanks a bunch, puppy! I let him out, forgot to turn off the alarm, and awakened The Squire. And probably half the neighbourhood, to boot.

Gave him a short breakfast and wandered back to bed. Unfortunately, I was not able to get back to sleep as easily as I had hoped, as my Restless Leg Syndrome kicked in. Quite literally. I was all over the bed. Back downstairs, and took a second pill. As a result, I was honest-to-goodness staggering when The Squire pried me out from between the covers. Not a happy camper.

We had yet another supply priest this morning – a very nice lady named Retta.  She was very pleasant, understanding our little quirks, and preached a good sermon. We’ve had a few priests who wandered so far afield they – and we – seemed to forget what the message was supposed to BE.

And then, when we got home from church, Blazer met us at the top of the drive. No leash, and the kitchen door was wide open. Lovely. Apparently, The Squire had turned the latch, and I had followed him out without a) turning on the alarm, and b) hadn’t even pulled the door shut, which allowed Blazer to nudge it open with his nose.

I told you I wasn’t awake!

I spent most of the afternoon working on our grandson’s dollhouse. I made this up for Matthew when he was about five, and after he and his younger sister both outgrew it, the house languished first in the barn and then on the porch. Neither location was what you’d call “optimal” and it is in sad shape. I’ve ordered new wallpaper and carpeting, but the poor house practically needs to be completely rebuilt. I may invite his wife to come down and lend a hand if we want to get this job finished before he gets home in mid-January.

The original house is here: http://www.picturetrail.com/lady_anne   Scroll down to “Matthew’s McKinley”. I’ll post new shots here from time to time.

 

 

 

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The End of the Week

4 Nov

After a rough start on Monday, the rest of the week went much more smoothly.

The place where I am working is one of the best in the world. Management does everything possible to provide a pleasant atmosphere, and it shows in the people in the office.  I’ve never met anybody who was unhappy or snarly, and that has certainly not been the case in many other places I have worked.

I left early enough on Tuesday to take a chance on going over Phoenix Road, which cuts a mile off the trip, and is at least five minutes faster.  I used that route the rest of the week. There is very little traffic, and only one light at either end of a single lane bridge, to prevent accidents. The road curves through pastures and runs beside a tiny hamlet which I’m willing to bet was the original town of Phoenix. A cluster of turn-of-the-century houses, painted in many colours, perched higgledy-piggledy on the side of hill. It just lights up my day to see them!

The Squire had dinner ready for me Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.  Both last night and this evening we went out for dinner. Last night was a bit less than a success; we went to Ruby Tuesday, as we had a coupon. His steak was overcooked and I think my pasta dish had been made up and left under a heat lamp for a bit too long, as it was very dry. Tonight, we went to a local eatery, The Sunshine Grille, and had a fabulous meal for about two-thirds the price. I’d rather patronize local businesses, any way.

When I called home to say I was leaving work, The Squire murmured that he’d “love to meet me for dinner”.  After forty-some years, he’s still my knight in shining armor. Or amour. Whichever.

 

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