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Cast o' Spies

12/10/2016

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Well, that's a goofy attempt at combining two subjects  into one "cool" title. See if I managed it when I reach the end of the post. ;)

First off--take a look:
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I'm cast-less! Got it officially off yesterday. :) I definitely do not have full range of motion back yet, but I've been stretching a little bit every now and again over the course of the day and will keep that up. It hurts a little, but that is to be expected from muscles that have been essentially stationary for a month. However, it was​ nice to wash my hair with both hands this evening.

In other news, I had a cold for a week. Not this week, but last. I retain a left-over cough that still kind of nasty from time to time, but it's not too terrible.

Anyway, moving onto the spies bit--I finished reading Spies of the Confederacy by John Bakeless tonight. I forget exactly when I started it, but it took me long enough and yet not as long as it might have. I really enjoy Bakeless' books--having read two or three in the past. He is of that generation that knew how to write. History really is interesting, particularly when authors know how to engage their reader's attention. I gleaned some information (and hopefully some ideas) for my current CW-film project...

And now...and now I just have to figure out which book is next. I'm trying to figure out whether I want to read the bioptic novel on Antonia Ford or the book on Rose Greenhow next. I won't start anything tonight, being Saturday, so I may just go curl up with Dabney's "In Defense of Virginia and the South" and forget about picking my next read this evening. I do seem to be working the lady spies angle at the moment. I kind of started with the medical angle...so who knows where I'll actually end up beginning when I come to script writing. (By the by, in case I neglected to mention it here--the current project is actually a series of documentaries--whose length I'm not settled on--on that very interesting topic: "Confederate Women". It's a huge work and it's no wonder I am, you know, just "ever so slightly lost" in the where to start department...)

Anyway, that's that for this evenings ramble. I've been neglecting my littl' ol' blog something dreadful of late...

     Racheal

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Break Report

11/10/2016

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I went to the orthopedic doctor this morning. We got there early, like we were supposed to, and I filled out a couple sheets of paperwork. I wasn't even done when I was called back. (Daddy was with me.) 

The lady took my blood pressure (I guess that's SOP for most doctor visits)--it t'went bad neither 117 over 70-something. 78, I think, but I can't really remember. She took my splint off, too. After she went out, the young intern/med student (whose name I cannot remember; he was pretty nice though) came in and asked a few questions and poked and prodded my arm a little bit. Then he had me bend my wrist! I wasn't expecting that, but went along. I quit the bending when it got painful, even though I could have pushed it through. (I don't think that would have been wise and he really wasn't asking for that.) He took his report out to Dr. E...who soon came in. All 6 foot+ of him.

It took literally moments before he and Daddy were swapping Army stories. Turns out Dr. E is a 24 year-Army vet! And I don't know how he knew I was born at Ft. Bragg--but he did...

Anyway, he took us into the hall so I could see my x-rays (because I had mentioned that I wanted to see them) and then lead us off through a bit of a maze (one could get lost in the OD until they got used to it) so he could take one more shot.

As it turns out, my radius is broke right about where the head starts to neck down and it's clear through. Not just a fracture. It's slightly impacted--and I even think I saw bit of a gap along the opposite side from the impacted area. Anyway, Dr. E said I'm right on the verge of needing surgery. So...I go back on the 22nd for a follow up. He seems to think I'll be fine. ;)

AND...I am so tickled that I got a removable cast!
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Look at the bend he put into it. I'm guessing that while he shaped that thing across his knee (with my arm within), chatting with Daddy, he really wasn't ignoring me or what he was doing (I know he wasn't because at one point when I let out some variety of grunt, he said, "You can say 'uncle', you know.") I'm also guessing that the deep bend is not so much to keep my tendons stretched (though it will help come time for therapy), but to put an amount of...eh, what's the word I want? An amount of...counter-pressure (?) on the impacted part.
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Thumbs up! I like my doctor and the fact that I can carefully take this thing off and wash my arm occassionally!

      Racheal

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Adventures of a Monday

11/9/2016

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You may be wondering why, as it is Wednesday, that I am writing of Monday's adventures. Eh...that's a story we'll get to in a few moments, so bear with me. ;)

Monday I worked some on getting stuff out of Savannah's room and back into mine--I pulled all my yarn out of the dresser that isn't going back into my room and packed it into several Vitacost boxes. Mmmhhhm...I need to knit a little more. (I recently sold a pair of socks via my Etsy shop, so I do actually move the things from time to time!) Anyway, between boxing up the yarn and putting it on my new shelves and arranging my hat collection on the same said shelving, that is about all I got done in the morning. Very sad, I know--but we are such terrible slow-pokes in the mornings!

Well, I drafted back upstairs some time after lunch and piddled about a little more til I decided that I would turn my attentions to my "foot-locker" (actually a covered wooden box). I planned, ever since hauling it north from Florida that I was going to eventually strip off the old covering and recover it...or something. "Well," thought I, "now is as good a time as any. I'm more likely to get it done if I do it before I put it back into my room."

Following this line of reasoning, I pulled it's contents out (costumes and various reenacting and/or prop gear) and hauled the greatly lightened box to the garage where I began pulling staples and tiny nails. After I took the hinges off, that is.
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I whipped out my pocket knife and started cutting off the vinyl material. Almost as soon as I began cutting, I started to get just a little excited....

Let me step back a moment and explain that I assumed that Grandmother had covered this box in the early to mid-sixties due to the apparent age of a particular relative who had scrawled her name in crayon on the back of it. It clearly had been the kids toybox.

Anyway, as the vinyl came off, I discovered that Grandmother had first covered the box with newspaper and then the brown material. It was the newspapers that got me excited.

I don't suppose it was even so much the newspaper at first as the date on it. She had used portions of the November 1, 1953 edition of the Miami-Herald to cover this box. Notably, the sports pages and some ads.

1953.

Grandmother and Granddaddy did not meet until 1958. So--this box had been covered not only a rough decade before the time I assumed it had, but even before my grandparents first laid eyes on each other! Things like that kind of give me a variety of jitters. I suppose Anne of Green Gables would define that as a "thrill". ;)

I took pictures of most of the newspaper, thinking that some of my friends might enjoy looking at the old ads in particular.
About this time, I decided to go take care of the chickens in my normal evening routine. I'll leave you there for the moment and finish the box story. It was determined after Daddy pulled the cardboard out of the bottom and uncovered--mold--that we should just pitch it. Well, bummer, but okay. I'm all for getting rid of mold infested "things".

Anyway, back to the chickens. Some of y'all already know where this is headed, but another telling hurts nothing. ;)

I had already fed the layers and collected the eggs and moved on out to feed the meat birds. I cleared out the first tractor and bent my knees and back into the heave-ho routine. I had perhaps another three feet to go when the strap's s-hook slipped off the PVC frame (I've never had this happen before). Naturally, as I was in mid-pull, I went sailing backwards into the clover. I landed primarily on my right leg/side and that didn't hurt much. BUT (you knew that was coming, didn't you?) somehow, with the left arm all rag-doll floppy, I whacked my left wrist into the ground. My palm was facing the ground, but also tilted up a bit...rather like a shallow 'v' if you were looking at my arm and hand from the side. Anyway, the wrist hit first and as I rolled into a sitting position, I knew. 

My wrist had gone immediately stiff. 

It didn't really hurt, but I knew before I got to my feet that I'd just broke a bone for the third time in five years. 

I'm actually still in the splint they put on me at Med-Express (faster and cheaper than the ER--probably nicer too :] ). I go to see an orthopedic doctor tomorrow morning before lunch. I admit that I am slightly disappointed that I couldn't view the x-rays on my computer--wrong file type. I like looking at the x-rays so that I can really see the break--but I was informed that it was just the radial bone--clear across. I guess I must have bashed it just right...

SO...anyway. I'm just grateful that I cracked the ol' left wrist rather than busting the right one again!!

      Racheal

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One for the Records...

6/8/2016

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(Looks like my blog has been hacked today and we have a "guest" post... ;P ~~Racheal)
One for the Record Books

My Dear Readership,

The protagonists of today's story is my twin sister. Yes, you dolts, I do have a twin sister. You just can't see her--just like her audience cannot see me. Odd the way invisibility works, that's what.

Now, before you get on to me for sounding like the delightful, yet fictitious character Rachel Lynde, I will continue. As I said, today's protagonist is my twin sister.

I decided to drop in at home after a long and arduous journey to--oh. Wait. If I told you where, I would be constrained to sever your head and lock it in a safe for the next seventy years. (Don't worry if the "joke" went over your cranium--it's somewhat obscure in most circles.)

Anyway, as I was saying, I decided to swing by and visit the family. Racheal and our youngest sister were busily cleaning strawberries, clicking right along like regular old professionals at this topping and spot-removal business.

None of my sisters like spiders. Perhaps you already knew that. But it is very much the truth. Granted, they normally do not screech, scream, go pale, or faint upon sight of the eight-legged creatures. The result is typically a very dead spider.


Well, along and along, Racheal glanced down, only to spot a rather innocuous gray garden spider--sitting on her left middle finger!

So far, nothing record breaking about this situation--not even the bit of an "OH!" she let out.

However, that "Oh" morphed into something more akin to a yell of pain and the next thing I know, the girl had blood running off her hand! 

This, my friends, is where the record-breaking enters the picture.

In her haste to "keel" that spider, she struck out at it with her knife with a downward, scraping motion. Only problem was, the blade was down not up!

The resultant slice in her finger is roughly one-half to three-quarters of an inch long and how deep I was not allowed to see. 

Oh, and as to the spider? He did die, but only from the butt of her hand as she threw the knife down, and went to milk the blood from her finger a little harder. The poor creature died with one fell swoop.

Poor spider.

And now you see--it's not safe living with my twin sister.

Farewell until the next time I reemerge...

​Nate 

P.S. My dear Racheal,
I am extremely hurt that you always categorize my scribblings under "Nonesense"! Fie on you!
Aw, quit complaining Nathan! You're the one who hacked me!! Besides, you know you don't really mind--or why else would you write with an eye to the humorous??

Anyway, where have you been?
Don't ask. You know very well that I cannot answer that question.

And really, you are the nonesensical one. Cutting yourself wide open over a spider!! Goose.
Rooster.
Whatever.

​*winks*

​I like picking on you.
Don't I know it! :D 

Don't be gone so long next time, ya hear?

Nate?

Nathan??

NATHAN NATHANIEL??

Shucks. Gone. Just like that. Ornery stinker. Ol' cowlicked curly top gets harder to hang on to the older he gets. I wonder what kinds of adventures he'll get into between now and next time he pops up to scribble on my blog...he never does tell me much. Top Secret...bah. I think he likes to pretend he's a spook.

     Racheal

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Of Hair and Weeds...

7/22/2014

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Greetings! I hope you had a great day! Mine was busy enough, but not crazy...but you'll see that here in a minute.

I didn't do anything spectacular this morning. It was, well, uneventful (I did manage to squeeze in a little guitar playing--it's been days), excepting the fact that I finally did something with my hair that I have wanted to be able to do since I was a little girl. It's what I have always called "Gretel Hair"--more than likely after Gretel Von Trapp out of The Sound of Music. :D

I had sort of done it before, but it was clumsy and didn't stay up well at all. Today I figured out how to make it stay...
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(Savannah has the prettiest bedroom walls!)
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I pinned the ends of my braid across the top of my head (and the sections together right behind my ear to keep the looped braid from flopping).
Needless to say, I was pleased as punch (whatever that expression really means)--but I was DELIGHTED to discover that my hat (aka cowboy hat) would fit with my hair like that! I really didn't think it would.

Anyway, let's move on to the second portion of my title...the weeds.

I pulled the string-trimmer out of the back of the barn and set to work on the very tall (some of them taller than me) weeds out around and behind "Compost Central" (aka the compost bin and pile of stuff that goes into the next batch). There were thistles and lambs tongue and that weed that looks sort of like okra, and a variety of other plants. I broke two sets of stings (grrr!) on lambs tongue before I asked Daddy if he had a hatchet...which of course, he did. After that I used a nice sharp hatchet on anything bigger around than my thumb (and quite a bit of smaller stuff). It kept me from breaking any more strings...and I didn't really mind swinging that small hatchet--it was real sharp so I didn't have to really fight through the very fibrous stems of said plants.

Once I finished around "Compost Central" (too bad I didn't think to take pictures!), I did a row in the garden and then worked around the old, fallen corn-crib until I ran out of gas. I didn't refill (it was around 4:30 by that time), but instead went and tore down my "hay-stack" by the compost bin and rebuilt it behind the bin, layering it up with fertilizer and wetting it. I covered that with a random piece of black plastic; it wasn't big enough to really cover the whole stack completely, but it covered the top well enough. 

Someplace in here, Daddy asked me to help him put this grinder-machine thing up on the flat trailer (nick-named "The Chariot" because it's stated purpose was to put the grandfathers on it and haul them around in their wheelchairs) he had behind the mower. Well, he had been running the engine on the thing (the grinder-machine) and I managed to put the inside of my left forearm on the very hot carburetor (forgive me if I called that the wrong thing). This was the result: 
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It definitely could have been worse...and now that I've come in and smeared plantain salve all over it, it doesn't really even hurt! (And here's a pitch for plantain salve: if you want my momma to make you some [it's good for everything from burns {obviously!} to mosquito bites to random itchy spots to cuts]; you just let me know...I'm sure we could work something out!)

And that's about all the excitement from my day...I sure hope it rains tonight.

      Racheal

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The Mash-capade

7/2/2014

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I spent the day raking yesterday's grass clippings into piles, picking the piles up, and depositing them in either a) the compost pile that I rebuilt for the second time today or b) the regular old fashioned 'haystack' next to the compost bin. (To give you a little idea of how much grass that was, the bottom of the stack is probably 5-6 feet across and it is almost as tall as I am.)

In case you are wondering, yes, I did get a little sunburned out there today (I was wearing a sleeveless shirt), but my hat only blew off once; I had to catch it a couple of times as the wind attempted to lift it off my pate to be sure...but still only one actual blow off isn't bad. :)

When I got done with the grass clean-up (for lack of a better phrase), I fed the chickens--first my Rangers and then Katherine's birds. (Side track real quick here. One of her hens got out while I was picking up the grass piles, so I got off the mower [I was using it as a mule for the little green trailer] and chased that ridiculous 'fraidy-cat bird around and around [thankfully, I managed to keep her headed off from the corn field!]. I did finally catch her and dump her back into the paddock. The rooster was busy making all kinds of threatening noises while this escapade went on...)

Anyway, as I was coming back from feeding the Rangers (who are still "peepers" at this point at four and a half weeks), I had a 'dyspraxia' moment that would have been the funniest thing to see. (Okay, so whether it really was dyspraxia or just that my hands were tired from using a rake or pitch-fork all day, I don't know--but dyspraxia sounds more dramatic...)

I had a bucket of new-made mash in each hand...and instead of putting one bucket down like I usually do, I figured that I would open the door with the bucket still in my hand (I have done this before; and call me lazy if you like, but I really didn't want to bend over an extra time if I didn't have to.) 

Well, I reached out with my left hand and the next thing I know, I was hearing a thud and I was covered from head to toe (literally) in mashy water! The focus of the 'blast' was on my left-side, which is a good thing because I still had my pistol strapped on (right side because of the holster). Thankfully, the pistol didn't get wet. I did still have my hat on (of course) and it functioned as something of a backsplash--only I would have preferred it if it hadn't. What hit underside of my hat brim (there was none on top), just blew back into my face. 

Spitting little hunks of corn and soybeans out of my mouth, my eyes squinted most of the way shut, I opened the garage door, put the buckets of mash down (see, I still had to bend over that extra time!), and then opened the door into the house and hollered at Katherine to please come take my pistol off so I could go clean myself up. She did and I went to the spigot and washed my face off...

After that, I took the time to splash enough water on the door to wash that off and then I progressed into the feeding the hens/gathering the eggs (only eight today). 

I have talent. Messy talent....

     Racheal

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Strange Providences

4/27/2014

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Well, at any rate, it may seem strange to me. You see, I stayed home from church today because when I woke up this morning I wasn't feeling overly well and I felt like I might get worse, so I just decided to stay home.

By mid-morning, I was feeling fine! I could have gone to church after all, but this is where the "strange providences" came in.

Granddaddy took a backwards head-first fall, or slide, out of bed. If I hadn't been home, Mama would have had to deal with it all by herself. As it was, it took both of us and a lift to get him off the floor. I wasn't strong enough to get his torso (with a gait belt) more than a few inches off the floor without help...Mama was at his feet, so she couldn't help me.

Mama called Daddy, who was in church by that point, figuring he had his ringer turned off, but with vibrate on. Of all days, today was the day that he forgot to turn his ringer off. He said later when he came home that it was turned all the way up...

About the same time she called him, I started dabbling with the lift. Daddy told Mama to use the lift and by the time she handed me the phone to get instructions, I had already figured out how to operate the thing. (It's easy.) 

We ended up having to rearrange Granddaddy on the floor so I could get the lift over him (and I still bumped his head with the frame! Poor man...two falls and an inconsiderate granddaughter banging his poor head all within a 12-hour period!) I do not think he likes the lift very well at all--but we did get him back in bed, his bloody arm bandaged (he had managed to flay some of the skin on his left arm back again), and nicely covered up. The only thing we forgot was the absorbent pad that we place between his legs (he refuses to wear a brief, so we improvise).

Before I went back to my reading, I crawled under Daddy's desk and retrieved his bundle of bungee cords (perhaps it's a strange place to keep them) and put two of them between the head and leg railings in hopes that it would at least slow Granddaddy down if he decided to try another Houdini trick on us today. We had already picked him up off the floor at five this morning (Mama came and woke us up to help). It amazes me that he got practically all the way across the room before falling down...his legs are basically strapped together with a couple of braces to protect that left hip--which I do not think came out of the socket either time he fell (thankfully!)

After lunch this afternoon, Daddy and Mama went to town where Daddy purchased the needed supplies to make better bed-railings (one could easily call this a work of both necessity and mercy). Hopefully, with the new railings, Granddaddy will not fall/slide/Houdini his way out of the bed again tonight.

On a more positive note, I hear he ate a whole two eggs with sour cream and cheese in them this evening and had some apple juice!

           Racheal

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Tuesday's Recap of Monday

3/18/2014

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That may be confusing. Anyway...

Yesterday was one of those days when I simply wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there. However, due to circumstances, I couldn't.

Mama and Savannah were away at Savannah's second appointment with her new Lyme doctor. (I go in May...and I am not looking forward to the blood draw that I'm going to have to have.) Thes results on that is that Savannah has a new protocol to follow. She's feeling a little blue (on top of not feeling well) because her hair is falling out again. She asked me this morning to pray that her hair would quit falling out.

Daddy was gone for a large portion of the day: first to his VA appointment (he had a blood draw)--after which he ate breakfast out and apparently had a lovely morning with a Nam vet. After lunch he took Grandpa to his CAT scan.

Our house guest left yesterday and I can't say I miss him. It's kind of nice to just be us again.

What with all that going on, I kept up with the cooking (speaking of which, I have to go start lunch here in a minute!) and the laundry. In fact, that is what I did of any use yesterday afternoon. Laundy. I watched a movie and did laundry. My brain was in no state to read and writing was out of the question (as was research), so I plopped down and watched a movie. I'll do a review of it over on Reformed Reviews, but some initial thought on it: that same story could be really, really good. 70's movies just aren't very good quality for the most part.

I made "clean out the refidgerator" soup for supper last night and was pleasantly surprised at how decent it was. 

I was "Leola!" multiple times yesterday (from Granddaddy) and I suppose I earned it because I got down-right stern with him a couple of times. He just about flipped his wheelchair over yesterday at one point (getting back into it from the pot) because he didn't reach back and grab the arms of the chair--he just plopped. He barked open the inside of one of his fingers in the process. I was unaware of it until Katherine (who had come downstairs to help) said, "Your hand is bleeding!" I doctored him up while talking to him about how he should let us know when he's bleeding all over the place. He's like a helpless kid sometimes and it's not because he has to be, but because he just doesn't care.

Alright, with that being said, I need to go check the laundry and get started on lunch. :)

Adios for now!

        Racheal

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Lots O' Stuff...

3/14/2014

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I have been basically without a computer the last week...ever since I accidently put mulitple trojans on my computer last Saturday (I guess it was). I have been on either Daddy or Momma's laptops over the course of the week to check e-mail and such. So...here's the past week's rundown (for those of you who like to hear my day-to-day adventures)...it's been busy enough. :)

Sunday, March 9 

The entire family got to go to church! Granddaddy was in the hospital with a skin infection, so no one had to stay home with him.

After lunch, which was a tad later than usual because we stopped at the hospital for a few minutes, I sat down to an enjoyable two hour conversation via Google Hangouts with a brother in another state. The subject: a joint film production. I landed the grand ol' spot of director! I have a large hunk of research to take care of (which will be easier now with my computer back [or my "baby" as Daddy just called it! :D] We have determined the subject of the film, but I'll save the details until I can give you a better, more succinct description then that which would ramble off my fingers at the moment.
 
Monday, March 10

A busy, busy day. :)

First, Grandpa's trip to the dentist. I don't know about you, but dentists don't scare me. Never did. I never could understand why people are afraid of them (maybe because I've never had a cavity? Not that that should be much worse than having dental surgeries--of which I've had a couple.)

I took notes on the way home to remind me of what stories I wanted to tell once I got my computer back. :)

Mama sat in the waiting room the whole time and I took care of wheeling Grandpa into the rooms and helping him transfer. He doesn't need much help, less than Granddaddy in fact--a lot less. (He actually works at it, unlike the G-Dad).

Anyway, Grandpa went to the dentist to have a root removed from his gum. The tooth had apparently broken off at the gum, so the root needed to be removed to keep it from getting infected, etc.

The doctor was probably about half way through the extraction when I kind of siddled around to where I could see, saying, "Mind if I watch?"

He didn't really seem overly pleased, but said, "So long as you don't faint."

I responded with, "I won't" and bit the laughing, but snarky comment back about having watched calves be castrated, ear-marked, and branded. I did almost drop the "I'm a country kid" line, but instead, I just grinned to myself.

Anyway, I now know a little better how my dentist removed "that tooth" [sticks tongue where there is no longer a hole--took six years for it to come in it, but it finally did] back when I was 15. It was interesting.

Because Grandpa had a issue with his partials, we were led to the other side of the building where the denturist (is that a word?) would see him. While waiting for him, I noticed Grandpa's tell-tale "I have to go" movements. I did what I know how to do, I hopped up, strode down the hall, into the waiting room, told Mum that Gradpa had to go, continued right on out, opened the door to the van, hopped in, snatched up the john, and retraced my steps. Once he went, I repeated the processes.

I have gotten to a point where such things are just every day practical actions.

Oh, yes, and Grandpa had one of two issues with his partials fixed. The second problem gets addressed in a couple of weeks. He has to get a new impression of the top one and then an addition to it for the tooth that was just removed.

I forgot to mention earlier that Daddy flew to Florida Sunday evening and therefore he couldn't go see Granddaddy in the hospital, so we dropped Savannah off there on the way to the dentist. On the way home, we picked her up. Grandpa and I stayed in the van; him napping for the most part and me doing one of my favorite things--watching people.

There was this lady that came out of the hospital, she reminded me so much of my Aunt Celinda that it wasn't even funny...

Anyway, there were two Chrysler vans parked in front of us, two different years and two different shades of blue; and as this lady came out of the hospital, she started hitting her key fob. Well, from where I was sitting I could see that the older, lighter blue van's lights were blinking. The lady walked up to the new, darker van and tried to get it to open. She tried for probably five minutes (I was wondering if I ought not get out and tell her, "Um, ma'am...I think this van is yours..."). The lighter van's lights were flashing and then all of sudden the back hatch and the side door opened. At that point, she realized her mistake and got in the correct van.

When we got home, as I put Grandpa back into the apartment, I relized that the carpet was wet (again!!) The barn/apartment was flooding with the melting snow. We immediately went to work sweeping the water out of the barn. This entailed doing some chopping of channels into the ice outside the barn where we were sweeping it under the bottom of the frame (there are some places where it doesn't go under ground). I found a hammer with a point on the back (a heavy hammer) and used that to help chop a channel through the frozen ice and river rock in the floor of the barn. Katherine was sweeping water  through that channel to the outside channel (which I went and cleared a couple of times). I ended up splashing muddy water all over myself...my shirt was soaked pretty good as were my jeans. I got dirty and loved every minute of it! Well, except when I fell on the ice (for the first time this winter). I hurt my hip at the time, but it's my knee that shows the most signs of the fall (including hurting and a loverly bruise). When I fell, I didn't even realize I had hit it!

Katherine and I had a quick photo shoot of ourselves when we came in--minus our boots. (I had on my Ariat boots and they got soaked through--besides the water seeping in the seams where they have already started coming apart a bit along the sole seam.)
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My boots aren't usually that dark...
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(See how dirty my face was?? And I didn't realize that the tag was sticking out of my hat; which I had on backwards because it's fairly dark in the barn and I could see better with it that way.)
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Concerning her socks, Katherine pointed out that she wears them over her pants like that to keep them from sliding off in her boots. Heap big sense! (Now, if only I can remember to do that!)
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Those are one of her three new pairs of glasses. I really like 'em!
Like I said, it was a busy day. :)

Tuesday, March 11

Mama left in the morning to pick Daddy up at the airport. Immediately after breakfast, I went on a barn/water recon mission and was happy to report to the other half of the crew that would have had to work on it (Katherine), that it was fine and didn't need our attention.

Granddaddy came home that afternoon and thus life began returning to normal...

I took out three buckets full of ashes that evening (to help Daddy) in my barefeet. Er, yes...kinda dumb I suppose with the ground still being frozen three or four inches under the surface and the water/mud on top being ice water...however, my feet were already dirty and didn't want to take the time to clean them off and go up stairs to get socks. I didn't get frost-bite, so no harm done, right? :D

Wednesday, March 12

You do know the expression "When it rains, it pours", right? Well, that's us.

The pump was acting up. The well is situated smack dab in the middle of the garage, so Daddy backed the car out, lifted the grating, and soon determined that the... the... what'dyacallit had gone bad (starts with a 'c'...that's all I can remember at the moment).

He went to town. When he came back, he had that part (the what'dyacall it ;P) and a new pressure tank! He explained that the what'dyacallit had croaked because the old pressure tank wasn't functioning correctly (and apparently hasn't been doing so for a while).

I helped remove the old pressure tank and install the new one. Daddy thought he had drained the old pressure tank, but it hadn't drained (not his fault), so I was very glad that went the strappage broke that we had just switched places--with him under the tank (it was suspended from the basement ceiling by tough plastic straps) and not me! I think I would have been hurt pretty bad if it had been me under there (what with breaking my tailbone on the pipage behind me and being smashed under however many pounds of water still in that tank).

I imagine it got kind of funny (if anyone had been watching) to see Daddy, with me right behind him, trotting back and forth between the house and the old garage those couple of times for pipe and tools. 

But, back to the basement...I helped by using my horse riding muscles to hold the tanks still while Daddy either removed or put on pipe. Every time Daddy used the pipe dope (I'm serious, that's what the stuff is called!) I joked about Dijon mustard--because that's what it looks like.

Once we got the tank ready, we fixed up a wooden stand of it. I helped by holding onto piece of wood. Daddy ran the power saw. I also ran out and dug out four nice enough looking bricks to place under the legs of the stand (to keep them out of the water when the basement gets wet). Bare handed, of course. By now, you're going to think I don't like to keep either my toes or fingers warm--but I have the same excuse for digging bricks out of the snow with my bare hands as I did for carrying the ashes out in my bare feet. My hands were dirty! (And no water to wash them in...)

Daddy adjusted the pressure switch a little bit after we got the water running again. My job was to turn sinks on and off during that portion of the excitment.

Thursday, March 13

I guess it must have been Wednesday morning, mid morning, when I went up stairs, opened my door and walked into my room and got hit in the face with a pretty powerful mold smell. Well, Thursday afternoon, we went hunting for the source. Daddy went into the 'attic' crawlspace and reported zero mold. I started seriously hunting in my room after that...and I found it.

The baseboard behind my vanity has not been flush against the wall since the ducting went in a couple years ago, and that my friends, is where the mold was. Along that baseboard and the plaster. I took the baseboard to the garage (I have yet to clean it) and then took baking soda and vinegar to the plaster. It's smells a whole lot better in there now!

And...as an added plus...I found my nail-clippers (which the cats had lost)! I thought I had looked back there, but I guess I didn't look hard enough.

Friday, March 14

That's today...what did I do? Oh, yeah...Daddy and I went to the chiropractor this morning! I've really been needing to go (it's been a while, November being the last time I went!) and it felt great--only now I feel like I need to go back again! (Such is the hazards of letting yourself get really out of whack before going...)

After that we went to Rual King and got chicken feed and a pair of rubber boots for me. I didn't intend on getting steel toes, but I did. Well...so long as Miss Ruth's horses don't step on me I should be fine. :) (I look forward to being able to go down and help her around her place once a week or so real soon.)

Then of course, after supper, Mama and I went and picked up my computer.

*gleefully rubs hands together*

Now I can get started on a couple of different research tracks I've been itching to follow all week!

But not tonight...

Also, it so happens that today is my Granddaddy's eighty-third birthday.

Happy Birthday Granddaddy!!
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        Racheal

1 Comment

Things That Go "Bump" in the Night...

1/29/2014

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That may be a slightly humorous title for a post dealing with a not so humorous situation, but it fits.

Around about ten o'clock last night, I was sitting here at my computer, closing up for the evening when I heard (and felt) a very distinct "bump". I processed it a hair slower than perhaps I should have, then got up and went around the corner and as I started to open the door into the bedroom I announced, "Granddaddy just fell out of bed!"

Daddy had just headed for the shower, so it took a minute to get him there, but I went on in and started to get Granddaddy in a sitting position. Well, I couldn't because of the contraption behind him, so I just kind of held him up off the floor while Mama came and got the "thing" from behind him. Then we got him sat up.

Shortly after that, Daddy came and they got the gait belt under him and using that like a sling, picked him up and swung him onto the bed. (I helped just a little bit during that process.)

It was soon apparent that he was bleeding all over the place. His right elbow had the skin ripped up again (it always seems to be his right elbow that gets wounded) and his right ear was busted and bleeding. That was more painful than anything I think, including the embarressement of everyone being there. Daddy patched him up, with myself acting as nurse. Once we got him in bed and bandaged up, I went and washed the blood of my hands and arms and then changed my nightgown because it had blood smeared on it front and back. Figures that it was a clean one...

This morning, Granddaddy looked kind of like someone had punched him in the eye because his ear had continued to bleed and since he sleeps on his side for the most part, it had dripped along the side of his face and around his right eye. When I first saw him, I thought he was bruised.

Anyway, after breakfast and doing the dishes, I got a pan of warm water and washed his face off. I didn't try to get the blood out of his ear (I figured that might hurt some since last night it really seemed to hurt him), but at least he no longer looks like someone slugged him in the eye.

At present, Granddaddy is sleeping peacefully in the sun at the table...I have this feeling that he is going to spend a lot of time sleeping today because he got shook up badly last night.

Hopefully, we won't have too many of these accidents.

        Racheal

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    New post on The Bee Project! 04/26/18
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    The Middle Kid

    I chose to title this blog "The Adventures of a Middle Kid" because that is exactly what I'll be detailing (mostly). I chose 'kid' over any other word, like 'girl' (I am the middle girl so it also would have worked) or 'child'
    (since I am no longer exactly a child).

    I am a middle kid and I will always be a middle kid--even when I'm 80!

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