One Plump Skunk!

As I walked to the stop sign, I checked one message on my phone, making sure I hadn’t missed neighbor Joyce. I ignored the next 24 messages, figuring it was just people chatting. When I came back, Joyce intercepted me at her driveway. She asked, “Did you see the messages about the skunk going under your porch?”

She told me the facts, and I resolved to look at clumps of messages next time. Neighbor Julie joined Joyce and me as she walked Patches. She has had dogs skunked before, and she said a skunk can’t spray again for two weeks!

I went home and read every word of those texts. Shawn saw Izzy go into my yard and chase the skunk. She called it a plump skunk. She was relieved when the dog turned back. The next message said, “Oh, no! Too late! Izzy got skunked again!”

I found this on the internet: “Skunks can spray up to six times in succession if they feel threatened, but they only have a limited amount of spray and it can take them up to 10-14 days to replenish their scent glands.”

Not my Reunion

Neighbor Joyce invited me to go to her family reunion in the next county, and I had the most delightful time. We began in the little one-room schoolhouse that also served as a church. The people who came the furthest were from Arizona and Nebraska. Following the bulletin, we stood and pledged allegiance to the flag. I remembered most of the words, although I don’t think I’ve done it on a regular basis for 68 years. We sang two hymns, had a responsive Bible reading, and watched the unveiling of two sets of photos.

One by one we stood up to say our names and how we were related to Barak Norton. I explained that my next door neighbor invited me. Although I wasn’t on their family tree, I was related to all of them about halfway back to Adam and Eve.

There was a big tent set up beside the schoolhouse, and that’s where we had a royal potluck, brought by all of us. It’s the kind of thing you’d expect at a Sunday lunch after a church service out in the country. We ate fried chicken, meatballs, sandwiches, wraps, pasta salads, baked beans, green beans, macaroni and cheese, fresh fruit, and cornbread. And the desserts!! There were cookies, a decorated bundt cake, Brownies, at least three lemon pies, pudding, blueberry cake, and fruit bread. What a feast!

I talked to people from Nebraska and Georgia who were sitting near me. It was fun to listen to Joyce chat with a fairly close relative, although I missed lots of that conversation. The decibel level had risen quite high after we ate all that food.

We left as everyone else was leaving and had a lovely drive back through gorgeous mountains. My app showed we had gone about 60 miles each way. What a marvelous day it had been!

Multiplying Slacks

There is another mystery at my house. Weeks ago daughter Lise went with me to help pick out slacks appropriate to wear for physical therapy. I clearly remember buying two pair. I tried on both a few days ago. One fit fairly well, but the other was much too big. I thought that pair might do to walk to the stop sign, although I was shocked at how much extra material there was. I could only hope people would look at the road while driving and not look at me. I clearly remembered how I had to tug on the pants in the dressing room. A day or so later I put on the garment that I thought had been too big. It fit fairly well. My weight fluctuates, but not that much! How could clothes fit one day and be too big the next day?

When I was getting dressed to go to town, I found three pairs of exercise slacks!! How on earth did two turn into three?? I like the idea of multiplying clothing, but I wish they all fit. I’m sure the big ones don’t belong to Lise, because she wears jeans a size smaller than I do. She wouldn’t be caught dead in those balloony pants! I may wear them only in the house, but they are slated to go in the give-away pile soon.

Mystery Mail

I have written a letter once a week to a friend who can’t get electronic messages. I cheat by including blog posts, only adding personal news at the end. It couldn’t be easier. Sometimes, though, I make it much harder for myself. It happened this week. I spent a lot of time talking to people and realized at midnight that I hadn’t prepared the final part of the letter. The next morning I woke at 6:25, half an hour before the alarm would go off. I dressed for walking, then typed about one page before printing the letter and preparing it for mailing. There was still time for stretches and resistance bands before putting the letter in the mailbox and meeting Joyce at her driveway at 8. I told her that my arm began to go numb, because I was typing without stopping, and the angle was not good.

Later in the day I checked the video clips from the porch cam to see if the mail had come. I saw neighbors come and go, most in cars, but one on a motorcycle. Another neighbor walked Patches, her dog, and they showed up. A large truck delivered propane across the street, and a FedEx van turned around in my driveway. I never saw the car that usually delivers the mail, so I went out to check, anyway. To my surprise, I had mail! Not only did I have mail, but my outgoing letter was under the junk mail!

I am still wondering who delivered the mail without the movement triggering the camera. Surely it couldn’t have been a drone!! There is no drone that could open my very stiff mailbox door, which is not easy for me to do. Anyone walking on the street would have been recorded. I’m not going to solve the mystery by sitting here and wondering. Any suggestions???

Physical Therapy

It became more and more of an effort to stand up straight, so I asked my doctor if she would recommend physical therapy. She agreed and added balance training. It goes with the territory. I’ve now had my first session and enjoyed it tremendously. The therapist is a “people person” who can talk to anyone about anything. The receptionist also joined in when she was nearby. What fun it was! I had a full hour of gentle routines which didn’t tax me at all. That may not last long, because I’m sure the workouts will intensify.

I left with a sheet of three exercises for me to do at home. They were explained with words and drawings. I did them later, then looked at the company app on my phone. Those exercises were included. There were animated clips and a timer for each. I saw that I could exercise with the app and have it entered into my record. Old school habits made me repeat everything to get credit for it. Some things never change!!

A New Spin on Sausage

I have a new routine with sausage, cooking it in the air fryer rather than in a pan on the stove. The big advantage is a shortened cleanup. Instead of washing the pan, I just throw away one small piece of aluminum foil. The cooking time is also shorter. Having set the cook time for the correct number of minutes, I didn’t have to watch it; I just turned the patty over and let it cook a little more.

The second time I fixed sausage the new way, I heard something odd. There was a whirling sound. The noise stopped as soon as I pulled the basket out. I must have used a smaller piece of foil and pulled it closer to the sausage, because sausage and foil were spinning wildly!! What a surprise! I then discovered that dizzy sausage tastes just like the regular kind!

Sinkers or Floaters?

The subject is probably not what you were expecting, since sinkers and floaters usually refer to swimmers. I’m talking about pills. The supplements doctors told me to take were boring – same pills every day for years on end. Finding a good deal on vitamins for eyes, I bought them from a different manufacturer. The excitement began when I tried to swallow the first one. Pictured are the three I take after breakfast.

I popped all three in my mouth as usual, took a big gulp of water, and was able to swallow only two. A bit more water, and the tan one went down, fighting all the way. I was suspicious that the new one did not stay with the other two because it was floating. Who ever heard of a floating pill? The next day I took the odd pill by itself, and sure enough, it floated to the top of the water near the roof of my mouth. I’m positive I’ve never tried to swallow a floater before. It’s against the law of nature! Pills are supposed to go down, not up. Aaarrggghhhhh! These pills are going to last two LONG months! I am presuming the floaters will not kill me. I realize I could take that dratted pill with food, but that defeats my goal of zero calories for pill swallowing.

If you have ever taken floating pills, please let me know how you handled this bizarre situation.

Two Storms — One Noisy, One Not

The afternoon thunderstorm was violent. Lightning streaked across the sky, followed by deafening thunder. In the mountains, the thunder exploded, then echoed among the valleys. It was a most impressive display of power. I began watching it from the front porch and switched to the back as it moved slowly in a northeasterly direction. The heavy rain overloaded all the gutters, adding sizzle to the audio mix. When it was over, the bird baths and the waterfall pools were full to the brim.

At 3:30 a.m. I woke up and saw the sky lighting up time after time. Because I heard no sounds, I got up and went to the glass door to watch. I presumed it was lightning and not a transformer sparking through the night. While walking the next day, I asked neighbors Joyce and Julie if they heard thunder. Oh, yes, they had heard the storm, and that’s when I realized my hearing aids slept through it in their charger.

Sunday with David

Grandson David and I celebrated his June birthday when both of us were free. It was worth waiting for! He came after he went to church in town and I had attended mine on line. Both of us like a number of restaurants, so we sat on the front porch with our phones. I left the choice to him. His hunger voted for Clyde’s, where the Southern food is good and plentiful. As it turned out, we both took food home. Instead of having dessert at the restaurant, we had Fudge Moose Tracks ice cream at home. As we chatted on the porch, David noticed my eyes beginning to shut and suggested a siesta. He caught up with things on his phone as I nodded off.

At supper time we pulled out crackers, humus, and salmon salad (made from canned fish). David was interested in my dill plants and went outside with me to cut some to go with the meal. We ended with lemon milk sherbet I’d made for the 4^th of July celebration. I knew he loved lemony things, and this did not disappoint.

The day was laced with conversation. We had many things to catch up on, the most shocking being a wild fire at the train club in Tennessee. I had not been aware of it. Some of the track area and several buildings were destroyed. David has a caboose (about six feet long) in the back of the car, waiting to be taken back. None of John’s equipment was harmed.

David talked about singing in the choir at church, the hamburgers his boss cooked for the Lowe’s staff on July 4^th, and helping a friend on his property. It was the give and take of conversation that included references to family anecdotes that strung it all together. You know the kind of thing – one word or a gesture that brings up family stories. I hadn’t realized how much I missed that with him. I loved being instantly connected to the past again. I was shocked when I saw the clock when he was leaving – 11:00 p.m.!! What a marvelous day it had been!

Bed Damage

Just so you know, the bed damaged me, not the other way around. Although I had done a lot of trimming in the garden, I felt fine when I went to bed. Things were normal when I got up in the wee hours, but Oh! I was in pain when the alarm went off! I told neighbor Joyce that it hurt when I just rolled my eyes. That was stretching it, but pain was radiating from my right shoulder blade. I desperately wanted to cut the pain, knowing a shoulder BLADE was not the right instrument. Not thinking of alternatives, I proceeded with my day, hoping the regular stretching I do every morning would magically erase the discomfort. It didn’t, so I walked a mile with Joyce. Distraction worked well until I got home. Pulling up dead flowers was next on the list. That didn’t hurt, but it didn’t help either. At least the front edge of the garden now looks a bit better. I’m the one looking ragged.

First line of weeding, and things already look better.

A good distraction was cooking sausage and two biscuits for breakfast. The pain on the tongue from the hot sausage masked twinges from the back. It was good while it lasted, as I’m a slow eater. There are hours and hours to go yet, but I’M AFRAID TO GO TO BED!