Well, it’s a lot easier on your arm muscles, but you can get carried away. Here is my pruning pile.
Did I mention I have a mini chainsaw?
We have a lot of bushes – big, overgrown bushes, and the pruning saw was becoming not as fun as it was when the branches were thin. But now I have a mini chainsaw with TWO batteries and I can cut through four inch branches easily. (Oh, please don’t that sentence be a jinx,) You do have to be careful to not chainsaw yourself, but also not to become so enthralled with the easy cutting that you wind up with stumps.
I almost feel like posting a sign: Have mini-chainsaw. Will travel.
Depilling – an excuse for sitting and watching documentaries
I have several sweaters that I ordered from Ireland; my husband has a like number. I would buy them off-season when I could get 25-40% off. They were still more costly than a cotton blend sweater on sale from a department store, but the warmth can’t be beat.
They are made from high quality wool which pills; little downy hairs reach up and pill in many spots and in others, those fiber hairs just float on the surface like a fog. The sweater color looks a couple of shades lighter. And there is nothing for it but to buy a depiller, which is basically a delicate shaver, and slowly and repeatedly go over the surface of the sweater. It’s not like taking a paper towel and wiping up a spill; no, it is more like picking up grains of salt by hand.
It takes time but the effect is gratifying, but it could be tedious. That is why I sitting here watching the history of the Greeks in Alexandria and using a “wax on, wax off” motion on the fuzzy thing on my lap.
Not a new car for me
I saw that a friend whom I have never meant face-to-face is the owner of a new SUV that is shiny and actually gets good highway mileage. My car was once shiny, but it seems that I cannot drive a car without a dent in it. And that is one reason I would never lease a car. I almost think the pressure would be so great if I had a new car, I would have to hit it with a tire iron to relieve the anxiety.
One telling fact about my little incidents is that I have been gifted more than once with an little emergency hammer to break the glass in case I have to get out of car that has somehow wound up under water.
When I started this blog . . .
Yes, way back when – or as they say now, in the day, almost everyone had a blog and you could read about disgusting in-laws, and cheating husbands and snooty friends and who knows what all. I came close to knowing a lot of, however, for I let my eyes scan over all the soap opera plots that were being written in real time.
When I named The Leaning Cow, I didn’t need to lean much because I was not yet 60 and the reference was more to those minutes before the leaning cow became a tipped cow. But, I have to admit, it wasn’t so much that as that I simply liked the sound of theleaningcow. Now, I do tend to lean when I get a chance. Years will do that to you. I am also leaning here in a blog woods that has been heavily logged. All these stories that where but a click away are back behind closed doors.
I came here today because the facebook thing is a nice way to see pictures of trips and read inspirational short paragraphs and sayings that used to be featured as framed prints at stores in malls, which have themselves taken one, if not for the team, at least taken one. (It’s so nice to write here for I can let my inner silly self just roam free as far as English composition is concerned.)
I still can’t stand Joe Biden.
Our collective cow and friends
From this Youtube video
Why I am back here?
I’ll tell you why I’m back at this site, typing these words. It is because I have been almost overwhelmed, almost defeated and frankly, am right now spitting\d that every damn thing has become Uber politically, socially, and “whatever” correct. Yes, it is driving me to the destination of total disgust, with a stop off at crazy.
The New York Times bought Wordle and now they are removing words that they deem offensive. Tell famous writers that “wench” is out; tell historians they can’t inform students that people were lynched. And, for God’s sake, don’t let anyone even suspect the first civilizations had slaves. Hello, Aesop. Hello, Spartacus. And, oh by the way, Babylonian king Hammurabi’s Code of Law (which guided rulings on slaves) was chiseled in stone.
But, this is a wee part of my tirade. Facebook and Twitter abound with people outraged by any comments that even allude to the a questioning of a “bandwagon” trend of the day. People post all day long about how kind and nice and loving and wonderful they are and a lot of them show selfies in elegant houses with big glass walls.
I’m here because I’m a coward. No one comes here. Were this a facebook post, I would be criticized. Oh, wait a minute, this wench would be lynched.
A little adventure on Route 172
I went to Fairborn, Ohio Saturday and south of Van Wert, I take 172 to 33 to I-75. But when I was coming down 172, I started thinking that I wasn’t looking forward to the monotonous drive down I-75. I mean you get to I-75 and it’s fast and you think you’ll almost there, but you’re not. You just click off the mile markers as you pass them.
So I decided to not turn left onto 33, but stay on 172 and mosey along. I just wanted something different, and I could always hightail it west to the interstate. Well, I started to notice garage sales and then signs that sale “172 Garage Sales” and I assumed it was the few miles north and south of Celina.
NO. I would find out later I was on the route of the World’s Longest Garage Sale. Fortunately, it was the third day and the serious vultures had come and gone.
I was a little out of sorts
Ok, I was in a snarky mood yesterday. I mowed and it was hot and humid and I completely soaked my clothes with perspiration. Then I went to Kroger’s – well, I showered first – and came home to see some annoying political headlines on CNN.
In this hidden place
I can be here and probably not get my feelings hurt. Nobody has to feel they have to write back the courteous sentiments that they are glad to hear from me and say they are sorry to here any bad news and quickly wish me a take care. In other words, the brush off.
Is it my personality? Maybe. But didn’t they spend much time with me and share things? Is it my politics? Well, we Deplorables don’t have the same attraction as the “world peace” beauty contestants. Saying, “Let’s take a look at this situation” doesn’t stir the same camaraderie as “Let’s March” or “Let’s tear down statues” or “Let’s be lemmings.”