Quiet in the Roadhouse

Yes, not too much is going on here tonight. A few people sipping tea, a couple of others with a cola, a pair of cute polar bear cubs tossing back some salmom . . . and an angel of two just sitting and relaxing. Friday (our dog, remember) is stretched out on the plank floor under my leg which rests upon the neighboring chair rung. I can feel his fur soft on my skin. And I guess he feels me.

We still have to do our nightly call checks on a couple of folks, make certain they are tucked in all safe – especially Sarah who pretty much drives us crazy . . . especially when she goes down in the bunker and hears water dripping. She can’t hear anything else too well, but let one drop drip and she’s on alert. In which case she grabs a flashlight and comes to report, her face leaning down close to yours. Just like this Christmas Eve . . . “I think there’s a pinpoint leak in the bunker . . . ”

And now that we’re thinking of her, we are also remembering she always checks her tires before she get cleaned up to go anywhere. Might have a flat, dontcha know. We’d call Sarah on the old Candlestick brass phone because we know she hates its tinny sound and we like to hold the receiver to our ear while we wrap the other hand around the upright part and lift the speaker cone to our lips, but Sprint to Sprint is free.

So it’s speed dial time . . . #6.

Sometimes it can almost be

There are times when I work and sweat and trigger good little endorphins and when the light of the fading day is cheerful, making me look forward to the next morning’s dawn . . . Heck, maybe it’s the barometric pressure. But anyway, there are times when I can think maybe that most wonderful thing will happen. I delay talking sense to myself because for those few moments of delicious hope and great cheer, I feel so very good. And I am so happy that tears come to my eyes . . . and then I can tell myself, AmeliaJake, that won’t be . . . because those tears in my eyes can also carry away the stress hormones of sadness. So it is an ache, and for a little while, not a bring-you-to-your-knees pain.

Half a long day . . .

About three and a half decades ago, when Robert William was little and at my parents’, the sun started moving far enough to the south that it set over the end of the old store building and just as that happened, my father turned to Robert William and said, “Good bye, Mr. Sun.” My mother told me that yesterday.

Today Robert had surgery on his leg again. Necrotic bone around the break/shatter site. Three months of no weight on the leg and keeping it elevated. Right now the ice machine is running cool water through the cast. A year before he is walking.

He was in a lot of pain. So we gave him medicine and he is feeling better for awhile.

Advice from Georgia Bears

Der Bingle found a sign on the Internet and he shared it:

Here is what it says in case you don’t read green and yellow –

Due to the frequency of human-bear encounters, the B C Fish and
Wildlife Branch is advising hikers, hunters, fishermen, and any persons
that use the out of doors in a recreational or work related function to
take extra precautions while in the field.

We advise the outdoorsman to wear little noisy bells on clothing so as
to give advance warning to any bears that might be close by so you don’t
take them by surprise.

We also advise anyone using the out-of doors to carry “Pepper Spray”
with him in case of an encounter with a bear.

Outdoorsmen should also be on the watch for fresh bear activity, and
be able to tell the difference between black bear feces and grizzly bear
feces. Black bear feces is smaller and contains lots of berries and
squirrel fur. Grizzly Bear Schitt has bells in it and smells like pepper.

Snow in Colorado

Pottermom dropped by during her vacation to remark that she hoped our air conditioner was installed – it was – and to remark it had snowed while they were on vacation in Colorado. I wonder if they were in her Mini Cooper and if it had an incipient panic attack visualizing snowdrifts sooooooo high. Maybe she had to go out in the night and talk to it, reassuring the little car that a few flakes do not a blizzard make . . .

But maybe they flew to CO and rented a local car, one that eyed the sky and purred, “Bring it on, bring it on.”

But speaking of August weatther, I was born this month and that day’s high is a record that still stands. That was 60 years ago. My husband has  joked (?) that the Gates of Hell opened that day . . .  I’ve been known for throwing a few foot-stomping temper tantrums. Okay, more than a few. If only it were an Olympic event.

I have this feeling . . .

Tomorrow we are supposed to have the new air conditioner installed; it was supposed to be last week, but the coil didn’t come in and it was okay because we have had really nice weather. At night the cool air pours into the house from outside and the days have been in the 70’s and low 80’s.

But now it is supposed to get hot and I have this feeling that the air conditioner won’t get installed for some reason or another. Oh, woe is me. If it does happen, then my intuition is wrong and that’s disturbing, but if is not put in, we will be hot and maybe we will never get air conditioning and die of heat.

But then maybe I think if I write this, it will cause the air conditioner situation to work out after all. Then that would mean my intuition works . . . just strangely.