Category Archives: The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse

I’ll be snipping branches and branchlets so I can see

While walking along the front brick wall of the house, behind the shrubs, I suddenly heard myself scream . . . because I was falling into a window well.  The right leg went in and down and the left one did something and wound up a tiny bit bent at the ankle.  I just stayed in that position for about a minute and thought, “I am not feeling any immediate pain.”

I don’t exactly know how I extracted myself; I think I reached out for a branch and used it to pull up and roll over onto the level ground. The top of my left foot was a teeny bit sore, but I completed several tasks on it and it is still only a teeny bit tender.  I think I lucked out BIG TIME.

Rose says she has a potion but I don’t know if it’s for drinking or rubbing

We mowed!!!

Summer and I went up to the LaGrange House today and rode two mowers and got most of it done, excluding, of course, areas around the actual house where roofing materials were laid out.

But . . . it wasn’t quite that simple. The old medium rider started but the big, fairly new one did not. BECAUSE ANOTHER BLASTED MOUSE FAMILY HAD INVADED THE ENGINE AND REALLY PACKED “STUFF” BETWEEN THE STARTER GEARS.

However, the roofer used his power tool to get the screws out of the cover and I grabbed the gunk and then used a small screwdriver to work it out from where it was STUCK in the gear teeth. Summer rode the one that started right off for an hour until we got the mouse home operational as  mower, and then we switched. We mowed and mowed and mowed and then we put them in the garage. I think I am going to hang bags of mothballs around them.

We took slices of bread, but forgot our peanut butter. Alas. However, we were pleased that the Verizon ipad hot spot worked while we set around on the back porch, cooling off and experimenting with our electron gear.

And, then when we detoured on the way back to drive by the bison ranch, we only saw some brown blobs on the horizon and Summer kept dying in her handheld game. But I ran into Scott’s and got some manager’s special beef prices.

All in all, it worked out to be a good day. (No gas was spilled in the trunk.) Woooo-Hoooooo.

A stone not left unturned

When I pulled into the driveway yesterday afternoon, the grass was incredibly long – skinny and weak, but long. It had just been mowed a few days ago . . . and here we were with a last gasp mower and this derelict-appearing yard. So, I roused Cameron to see if we could manage one last beyond the call of duty action for said gasping mower. Unfortunately, when I tested it out, I immediately hit a grass-submerged rock  by a tree . . . and that was not good. Oh, not good at all. But it restarted, vibrating to beat the band and clanking loud enough to cause passing drivers to turn and stare.

Calling on 50+ years of experience, I told Cameron, “I’ve got this one.”

I got my hands in a position to minimize the teeth-jarring vibration and started off at a fast clip, knowing my time was borrowed. It didn’t cut evenly and I had to go over several areas . . . and it almost died several times. However, it drew on some inner strength and the motor revved up on its own.

Then, as I was chasing down errant tufts of grass, it ran out of gas.  Done.

I have yet to turn the mower on its side and look at the blade; when it first happened, I was of the opinion that what I didn’t know would help me persevere and when it was over, I couldn’t bear to see it at the time.

So, I will probably bring the Lawn-Boy mower down to Kendallville, or get another mower I have here fixed. That will definitely be the time when I tell Cameron, “You’ve got it, now.” These mowers are much heavier than the little red 20″ cutter that gave its all. I’ll say this: Briggs & Stratton, you guys make great engines.

I do have an electric mower, but that one with its 18″ cutting width and trailing cord is a psychological challenge – better suited for  little teeny tiny lawns – the ones that take four passes and you’re done.

Now, for today’s possible news. I may just get up the nerve to mount the old Wheel Horse and try to tame the re-growing grass at the LaGrange House. But that’s only possible.

Not safe

It is not safe for me to post anything tonight, because I was just looking through my iphoto collection and happened upon the series of pictures in which Summer has a blue plastic hanger that has broken  along the base of the triangle. She is mounting it on her nose in various positions. It is so tempting to just include three or four or more of the pictures. But that would be bad . . . and the consequences would be severe.

On the other hand, Steve Martin became famous by wearing an arrow through his head – and by having a lot of talent. Oh, speaking of Steve Martin reminds me of the Pink Panther series and that reminds me of my utter clumsiness with wheelchairs at the nursing home. Walking someone into a wall is not cool, but it was better than when I clipped wheels with another wheelchair occupied by a lady who gave me the look of death.

Whenever I show up in the dining room door pushing Kathryn, about 30 white-haired heads swivel to watch the show – and I feel like a novice gymnast on a balance beam

Cows and hats

I cannot find my Pacific Dorfman hat that I plop on my head and over my hair when I go walking or mowing or just about anywhere that isn’t a coronation. I am starting to get a few signs of withdrawal. Of course, I have misplaced things before, so this is not exactly old hat to me. HAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH. Oh, yeah, getting manic, shaky and over the top. Oh, no. It’s even sub-conscience – over the top . . . oh, please.

But, mooving on, I get email alerts from SimplyBovine.com. Yes, that is surprising and I often look at things like these:

And, of course, if I can’t find my Pacific Dorfman hat, I could go with this.

from this website.

Well . . .

Yesterday was Summer’s birthday; she is now 16. Some people like to be treated like a queen or princess on their birthday. Summer announced she was “Dictator for the Day” – ah, yes, of course. How could we not have anticipated it? I have a picture of her cake; it was a BIG one, with a picture on it of that blasted my cat left for us to take care of and that Summer has decided is hers. I will post the picture when I overcome my temptation to do a little photoshopping. Oh, I am an evil one, I am.

Sleepy eyes

I read last night until one, and then I went to sleep. However, I awoke at 6:30 am and my eyes are a bit heavy and really the most comfortable in the closed position. But my mind is not of the same state; in fact, it is nagging me with the thought of another book . . . another book . . . another book. I have bonded with my Kindle; it has put books back at my fingertips and I find I feel more myself as long as I can read often. All sorts of things – with some notable exceptions, including the high class science fiction Der Bingle and Quentin are so fond of. (For them, the Mysterious Galaxy bookstore in San Diego is tantamount to a shrine.) They have gone to book signings and meet the author sessions. They discuss upcoming books and I am clueless. Now, using the Kindle and its applications for Mac, they actually PRE-ORDER books and start waiting like kids at Christmas for the electronic delivery.

Well, that paragraph wandered around a bit, but who cares. Really? It’s just me chatting away. Frankly, I have always hated topic sentences and strict little paragraphs. And, as I have groaned before, I am not much for themes. “Discuss the theme of this book, essay; what message is the author conveying and how does he use analogies and other literary devices?” Oh, better watch out, my sleepy eye comment seems to have foreshadowed a cranky mood.

How did this happen? I thought I was in a good mood, happy with my Kindle and my titanium spork. And I am; I am. However, I do hear the cranking sounds in the background. I am going out to walk and we will see what I feel like when I get back.

First the socks, then the shoes, then the ipod and the hat . . .

From Der Bingle

I am ready for future visits to Camp Nature Boy in Iowa. Der Bingle sent me a titanium spork – a real one, not the rip-offs fast food places use.

Here’s the original picture:

And here it is flipped so you can actually read the words:

If I am ever photographed as a medical subject or protected witness, I want the black rectangle on the eyes to be replaced with this:

But first I have to learn how to use it:

Oh, one of the tines has a serrated edge to be used for cutting. Nifty, n’est-ce pas?