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Of Bartonella

6/17/2015

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This probably won't relieve me (much--or for long), but it gives me something to do while battling and resting my achy back against something that isn't too soft or too hard.

I am in throes of a "Bart Day". By this time of day I am thoroughly sick and tired of it and that just winds me up tighter.

A "Bart Day" for those of you who don't know, means that I have been simmering all day long just under the surface. I haven't actually erupted today, but I have shown my teeth a couple of times. 

I know that it's bartonella causing this underlying fury and irritation and not "just" my sin nature...though there is of course that aspect if I cease the battle. I know it's Bart because I'm usually just a flair up, die down, go back to life kind of person when it comes to my temper. When I stew, irrationally, in my own irritation juices for HOURS on end (read all day), then I know it's bartonella since it goes against my normal character.

Sometimes I think if I just "let go" and let the volcano out I would feel better...but I wonder about that. For starters, my words would be nasty and hurtful and probably directed at a family member...for no real reason other than they got into my space in a way that I didn't like for some numbskull irrational reason. For seconds, being Bart, it would probably only relieve for a little while and then I would just do it all over again. So no; I think in the long run the simmering is better. Even though I feel like SCREAMING.

For instance, I showered (I was hoping the hot water would ease some of this pain in my back muscles--it didn't seem to help very much) and then went upstairs. The only way I kept myself from either screaming, crying with frustration, or yes, punching the wall (which would have brought tears of pain) once I reached my room was balling my fists up and grinding them into the cover a book that was laying on the table. I think I might have also been biting my lip in the process, since that is rather characteristic when I'm fighting some sort of volatile noise. While that may sound like a lack of self-control, I assure you that it is the safest and most harmless manner to deal with the violence that simply must get out of me or I would go insane. I am not one of those people who say one ought to just "let of steam" when they are angry, but I also understand, from personal experience, that for some people there is a necessity to release some pressure, in a controlled fashion, in order to disarm an explosion.

I'm not pretty on days like this, either inside or out. Inside I'm an emotional roller coaster (you do not want to see inside my brain) and outside I tend to have a set scowl (I think literary people would call that a "lowering brow") which forms from my teeth being set together firmly. My muscles ache from my tenseness, as my physical works with my spiritual to control my pathogenic bacteria.

For all that, I have managed to get a few useful things accomplished today. I did a semi-straightening job in one room (mainly because I was setting up to do my director's interview--which Mama thankfully suggested that I do on Friday when I'll be home by myself--which very thing I had actually intended on doing, but forgot); of course, that was done in a bit of a ill-tempered stew, but it got done. The fabric isn't all over the place quite as badly as it was. I helped get Grandpa up without biting him, although I did let him know right off that I was a grouch. Poor guy was sooo sleepy. I ALMOST finished this baby romper I started yesterday. I quit on the do-it-yourself snap tape because I was going to turn into a screaming maniac if I didn't. I may actually be calm enough by the time I finish this post that I can go finish it. Making snap tape is actually something that falls right down my alley of things I should like doing--I get to use a tool! So my anger doesn't even make much sense...even though I did booger the thing up. 

I am thankful that my family recognizes my "bartish-ness" and tries to be accommodating to me. If it weren't for their loving me in that particular way, I sometimes wonder if I wouldn't explode a little more frequently. 

I hope...no, I pray that I do not wake up to another Bart Day tomorrow. I HATE this stuff.  

     Racheal

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Strawberries

6/4/2015

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I feel like I have the shakes, but looking at my hands it doesn't really look like it. My right one is a wee bit wobbly, but hardly noticeable. I feel rather more tired than I think I should--after all, picking strawberries isn't that hard, even when one does have to take on some odd positions (it's rather like playing Twister, but with more dire results if you slip your position). Who says you need to do squats as an exercise? Just go wade through a five foot across 80 foot row. :) 

I haven't been overly perky today anyway. I really cannot think of a what I did today (other than 1.5-2 hours picking strawberries) that really classifies as being of much use. Well...I guess I stood Grandpa up and vacuumed Grandma's floor--THAT was useful. :) 

But anyway, we have strawberries everywhere. Yesterday I processed (i.e. cut up and freezer bagged) what totaled three gallons (or a little over 11 pounds) of the things. I think that tomorrow, once folks go to the Market that I will probably start in on the ones we picked yesterday...three big dishpans full. I picked two today. 

I like that kind of processing work--particularly if I can listen to something or watch an old movie while doing it. Strawberries move along at a higher rate of speed when the only the ears are occupied. Even if I didn't have something for my hearing/seeing senses to occupy their time with, I would still enjoy it while telling myself a story. No, I haven't outgrown my imagination. I once had a girl tell me that she thought that the imagination got weaker as one got older. I disagree (respectfully, of course :D)...I don't think that it gets weaker, but rather I think it shifts a little. If you cultivate it, it rather gets stronger. At least, that's my take on that oh-so-interesting topic. 

Some of those berries will more than likely go to market (and if they come home I will be very surprised!). Then, of course, we gals keep dipping into them as we walk by. But seriously! They need to be done since we've nearly run out of counter top! (I had set one pan on the floor but Abby the Awesome Tabby looked a little too interested in them, if you know what I mean. She is an odd cat--she eats stuff like avocado, green beans, mango...so it wouldn't surprise me if she ate strawberries.)

I wonder if I ought not go set the table. Mama is not in yet, but I believe supper is done...

      Racheal

P.S. It seems, sometimes, that I do an awful lot of complaining. The thing is, I'm not complaining really. I'm just stating facts. If I look at you and say, "My hip is hurting me" (which it is, those Twister positions aren't exactly known for doing it any good), I'm stating fact, not whining. Generally. Once in a while I do--not that it helps anything! :D I'm not today though.
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Updates

6/1/2015

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For starters, I fully intended on reading Authentic Christianity yesterday. I didn't manage it partly because I was tired, herxing, and blue and partly because a) we listened to a Dr. Morecraft sermon after lunch and b) Mama and Savannah were having a conversation. I ended up just crawling into bed and spending the afternoon there.

Now...to go back in time...I cannot remember all of what I did last week...but Savannah and I went to the "out of town" Farmer's Market on Friday. Savannah and Katherine were supposed to go and I was supposed to go to a doctor's appointment with Grandma (Mama was sick), but it got changed around because I parallel park just a wee better than Savannah (or so I think). Anyway, I took my guitar with me and played a little...I think the market master got a picture of me playing, but I don't know. 
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I declare, I have no depth of jaw! (I normally say "no chin" but that isn't exactly true...)
The above photos are traditional (or becoming traditional) "road trip" shots by Savannah. You may be ale to spot some of our multitudinous array of market items behind my gorgeous sister. I enjoyed being behind the wheel of our Annabelle again. 

We did fairly well for a slowish day (I asked several other vendors if it was slow since I hadn't been there this year yet and they said it was). I spent the last thirty minutes or so sitting on John's egg cooler talking to him and Dee. Mr. "Clucky" seemed to think my nickname of Rooster was appropriate. I have an invite to put bees on their property which I actually do intended on taking up once I get my feet under me a little better as a beekeeper.

All in all, I enjoyed myself even though in a personal way I didn't make any "dough". 

The next day, Savannah and I set up at the local market and then she went home to eat breakfast. It rained some...and by 11:30 we had had a whopping total of FIVE costumers. Chuck (the only other vendor that day) had to leave early anyway, so when he left, we also left, but only partly due to the rain. The other part was that Savannah and I were going on another "sister trip". :) I was going to get my new queen bee! For further information, see the Bee Project.
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Today I did a little Cow Cavalry work. Not as much as I hoped to get done, but enough to mark a few things off my list. I was going to get back to it after lunch, but I went out to stand Grandpa up (Daddy made him a standing frame--we hook a horse girth around his hips and crank him up into an upright position where he can stand and work on his leg strength; just in case you are wondering, he enjoys this...it's not something we make him do). While he was standing, I replaced the arms and the wheel handles (or whatever they are called) on his wheelchair. It took me two trips to the old garage to get the correct wrench for the wheels, but after that it was a breeze. It was actually kind of funny because Grandma had said something about, "I don't know if you can figure it out" and I kind of laughed and retorted cheerfully, "I have something of a mechanical bent, Grandma...I think I can figure it out!" Then she laughed. After all, I am the kid who always took stuff apart and put it back together again. (I keep remembering the telephone from years ago...but anyway.)

After that, Mama and I went out and planted a little buckwheat...then we picked the strawberries. Since then I've been typing...fed the chickens...took Grandma eggs...went and peered at my bees on the landing board...typing...drinking tea...but do you really care about all that? Probably not. :D

Now I'm going to go feed my cats their supper. Until next time then!

      Racheal

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Best Day of the Week

5/23/2015

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I don't mean that in a "thank-goodness-it's-Friday" way (not that it is Friday anyway), but meaning that it's been the day this week that I have felt the best (Tuesday may have been a better day, I can't remember). I have had a rough week this week, health-wise. I have been herxing all week. Not so very pleasant and hardly very productive or helpful to my family. I am still dealing a little with Mr. Icepick, but not as much as I was the past couple of days. (It's worst when I bend over at the waist...not sure why, but that seems to be a pattern.)

However, when I got up today, I tested the back of my neck and decided that I could handle the market no problem. Which I did, if you don't count the little bit of sneezing and nose-blowing I did as I rediscovered that this "yankee grass" does indeed bother my southern sinuses. ;P (To be perfectly honest, and fair, I used to get a little sneezy while mowing the grass down on the ranch.)

For Memorial Day weekend we did fairly well (Holidays/long weekends are always slow--even though you'd think it might be otherwise). Personally, I made 15 bucks from a doll dress. Always a happy feeling. :D
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We got two new 12'x 12' tents. Savannah was right--it is like moving into a bigger house! I like it!

I know you hear about the Farmer's Markets every year, but I don't know if I've ever done much by way of pictures...so here's a few of our stuff and our (three currently) fellow vendors at the local one.

Some of Jo's stuff. I figured she wouldn't appreciate the photos of her that Mama took, so I won't post them. 
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We came home with one of these. :) I helped pay for it so it's partly my tree. ;)
My "next door" neighbors:
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Chuck is as ornery as they come. :D His pretty missus puts up with it so graciously...
And of course, y'all are just dying to see all the merchandise on my tables. ;)
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Honey...NOT out of my hive--yet.
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J-j-jam!! (The stutter is due to the amount of sugar jam contains.)
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Some of the aprons. The rest were on the table.
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Miscellany...
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Doll dresses...in fact, I made both of those right there...
Like I was saying though...today has been my best day all week. After working the market this morning and eating lunch, I felt up to working out of doors. I headed for the rhubarb patch and finished weeding around the plants in the large patch behind the barn. (Next step there is running the string trimmer.) It took roughly two hours and by the end of those two hours, I and my nose were ready to find a place without 18" grass waving under said organ of smell. I wandered over to where Mama and Savannah were planting okra (!!) and said something--I don't remember what, but it was fairly unintelligible. Mama sent me in to go clean up and have a cup of mint tea to combat the stuffies...which I did after peering at my bees and seeing they were out of what and therefore filling up their water pan.

By the way, this is what I get for weeding (on my knees) in a knee-length skirt:
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Obviously, any callouses I ever had on my knees are gone just like the winter...
Somebody remind me not to do this again anytime soon. ;) At least not until they stop being sore..

Incidentally, speaking of soreness, I would so thrilled if I could find a lipstick the exact shade that my wind and sun-chapped lips are right now. It's red without looking dorky like red-lipstick (on me)...

And now, with that very female train of thought...I'll bid ye adieu and go stare into the refrigerator and see if I can guess what someone else might have had planned for supper. (I think we will be having rabbit for the third meal in a row. Yesterday I fixed all the bunnies that Daddy had removed from circulation. So, we've been eating "Racheal's spin on a French recipe"...I think, humbly {you may laugh me to scorn}, that it's the best rabbit I've ever had.)

     Racheal

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Mr. Icepick 

5/21/2015

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No, not this Icepick:
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Mr. Icepick is an euphemism for the pain I get in my stomach when my Lyme flares up. 
I have been pretty useless the last two days. I spent yesterday afternoon with my headphones clamped on, writing...and writing...and writing. I made progress on one of my stories, so I guess I did not exactly waste the day. In the morning, I had worked on audio editing...but by lunch time I knew I couldn't take any more.

Today I spent largely in bed reading. In between I washed dishes. I folded a load of laundry. I put clean sheets on my bed. I fed chickens. Wonder of wonders, I got my bedroom floor vacuumed. Yes, I did!

Along with Mr. Icepick gleefully jabbing the lining of my stomach I have had Mr. Blah visiting. Also, an element of stiffness in my joints. I'm surprised I only dropped one egg today. Then of course, let's not neglect Mr. Odd-man Cramps (don't want to hurt his feelings, you know). He kept pinching me in various odd places. That left bicep though--that hurt. I had a sensation of being feverish at some point today, but I didn't take my temperature because I had just had something in my mouth--which throws the temperature read off either up or down, depending. 

So yes, sometimes one's visitors are not always of the pleasant sort--unlike the "real" Icepick who lived in the story realm of Magnum P.I. 

     Racheal

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Of Life of Late...

4/30/2015

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I was hoping, when I woke up this morning, that the menigits that has plauged me the two days prior would be gone. By the time I was ready to go feed the chickens an hour and half later, it was manifestly apparent that such was not the case. But, to back up in time a bit...

Monday morning we girls had our lastest Lyme appointment. With the different blood works in, it shows that both Savannah and I (and therefore probably the rest of the family) have Dengue Fever antibodies. Yes, you read that right...bone breaking fever. According to Dr. Ritchie most, if not all, of her patients show Dengue Fever in their blood work. Interesting.

I am fairly lost when it comes to reading lab reports and glancing at my papers here...I forget what this first thing was for...but I'm about 200 points low on it. I have some sort of mutation in one of my DNA strands that makes me more seceptable to viruses (I think that's right). There is other stuff too, but I can't remember what they are. 

Katherine has had definite improvement since she switched protocols. Me, I described myself as the "slow poke" because I do not exactly see anything profoundly different. Savannah has also had improvements. As soon as this upcoming conference (next week!!) is over, I will start my Dengue Fever killer...and gradually up my Lyme and Bartonella killers, along with my detoxers. I guess I just need to be hammering these bugs a little more vivaciously. Maybe. 

So anyway, Tuesday I spent mainly "down" with an attack of menigitis--which continued into Wednesday. Only, yesterday afternoon I spent almost entirely on my feet poking around in the kitchen and doing little things that were necessary. By supper time I was running an 98.6 (though that is the "normal" body temperature, it's a fever for me) and really didn't feel so great. 

Today, as the whirl of market preperation has been going on (this weekend both Farmer's Markets open), my main contribution was ironing doll dresses. I took a couple hour break after lunch because by then I was feeling pretty rotten again. Then I got back to ironing doll clothes. I seriously need to take the time to make doll-sized tailor's hams. But anyway....

I finally got the "impersonator's information" letter from the conference planners this afternoon, so I know a little better what I'm supposed to do. And I do need two days worth of clothes. Glad I planned on that. I'm really kind of excited, though a little nervous...and I just hope I feel good by then. When one's head and neck hurt they aren't exactly the most coherent or even really want to talk. Particularly if there is any noise sensitivity. (I'm dealing with a little of that, but my light sensitivity is worse; going outside hurts my eyes.)

I'm awful ready for supper...

     Racheal

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If Life Were an Egg...

4/20/2015

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I washed nine dozen eggs today...I confess it was probably the most productive thing I did this day.
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If my state of well-being today was to be compared to an egg, it would probably look something like this neat-looking speckled thing.

Instead of being a smooth, un-freckled surface, it was filled with moments (the spots) where a voice would pass heedlessly through my head (I heard the voice, but the words did not register at all)...when I would get up to do something and then turn around three times like a cat fixing to bed down--because I forgot what I was doing. 

Other spots over here would be the times when I simply could not stand up straight. 

Over here is an attempt to speak and my words came out a jumble of incoherent syllables. Or again, whatever I said, while coherent, was down-right stupid. 

Glance over at this patch of speckles...this would be when I stood with my hands in the dishwater, my chin quivering for no real logical reason other than I felt like crying. (I didn't actually break down and cry today...but I sure felt like it a few times.)

On another section of the egg, these dark spots just might represent the knees and ankle joints that ached. I did take pause to wonder if the wet weather was a factor...but it just as possibly was not. 

Over here is that strange itch on my back...naturally in that spot that I cannot reach. I am thankful for the back-scratching technique I learned from watching my departed grandfather arch his back along the corner of the kitchen. 

Glance again...this is a senseless giggle over who knows what. 

Or here. The mind is blank, the eyes glazed over staring into nothingness.

I joke, in this area, that my coffee will be cold by the time I finish it the rate I'm drinking it. My hands are stiff and my movements slow and ponderous. 

My eyelids droop and I feel fatigued and worn. 

This section over here might represent my wheezing inability to breath deeply (otherwise known as 'air hunger') and my TB-sounding cough that is almost always more pronounced in a chill wind.

So...if life were an egg, it would not be one of those pristine, perfectly shaped and colored ones with nary a flaw...but it would be like one that is more interesting to look at...speckled and spotted. 

I may not always be thankful as I ought to be, but in the long run, I do believe I shall be grateful for this experience...and already it helps me to understand particular aspects about particular persons that I would not have.

     Racheal

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Sunny Saturday

4/18/2015

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I declare! I seem to be having a run of less than fantastically creative titles. Oh well. Dull brain for the last few days in particular. I don't know how much of it has to do with upping my bartonella killer from 5 to 6 drops (twice a day), but it may have something to do with it. Then again, it may not. I never am completely sure on these things.

Now, lest you think I'm nothing but a short bundle of woe, allow me to inform you that I played my guitar (and not just my easy stuff--classical pieces too that required all my fingers, four fret stretches, and barre chords) for roughly an hour this morning and I did not need my brace! Now, how's that for good news? I was very pleased, even though my wrist was quite stiff when I got done. Not having the brace on noticeably improves my range of motion, stiff or not. 

I made lunch today, even though half way through one of the three onions I merrily chopped up, I sliced into my own thumb. It hit me right across the nail, about half way down. I was unable to tell whether or not I sliced all the way through the nail or if there was just blood from the fleshy cut pooling up in a groove. I am rather inclined to think that it was the latter since it didn't hurt terribly. Thankfully, it was a nice clean cut with a sharp knife and I didn't keep bearing down on it. So, I've been gimping around with a band-aid for the rest of the day...which means that I didn't get the eggs washed after lunch as I had planned. And that the idea of weeding rhubarb was scrubbed. I really kind of need both hands capable of getting filthy for that job--particularly when working around the mini plants.

I went to town with Mama...we took a car-load of stuff to the Salvation Army. Since we were there, we went ahead and gave it a quick walk through. I was standing there, looking at the bookshelf and when I turned around I laid eyes on a cheerfully orange linen skirt. I am rather partial to orange (why? don't ask...I haven't an answer) and this was a really nice shade. I turned back around...then reversed myself and reached out and plucked it off the rack. "Mama...look at this!" A pause where I look at the size tag, "It says it's a 4." (No, I do not wear a 4...probably not since I was...12? if then...) Then I hold it up to myself (I can usually tell if a skirt will fit by the 'hold'em up' test), "I think I can wear it..." I tried it on...and I could! I beg leave to argue with the manufacturer on their sizing...ahem. Then, as it turned out, the tag was the 75% off color (which we didn't know until check out). So I got this nice, orange skirt for less than a dollar!! 

From there we went to Big Lots...then the grocery store. Nothing exciting there. Unless you want to count getting hungry and walking through food as an adventure. 

Coming home, the car was acting slightly...off. We pulled into the garage and the left front quadrant was smoking. I'm not quite sure what it is, but I think Daddy said something about the wheel bearing freezing up. 

I doodled around outside for a bit, getting my feet dirty and scratched up. I sort of 'helped' Mama with a clean out job on the north side of the house. 

All in all, I feel as though I have had a slow day with that dumb look on my face the whole time. :)

How was YOUR day?

    Racheal

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Of Spring Cleaning

4/14/2015

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More or less. Mama and I cleaned out the garage this past Saturday. It was embarrassingly piled with boxes and, depending on how tight the car was put in, the path was little better than a goat path. (Try navigating that with a sloppy-full bucket of wet chicken feed in one hand and a bucket of water in the other--while wearing rubber boots. Amazingly, I never sloshed nor tripped.)

At this current moment, the garage will not hold the car--but only because Monday and Tuesday were dedicated to cleaning out the basement (the door into said third story is in the garage). The basement leaks...and we have a wood burning furnace...and we dump the wood through a window in the winter...and food gets stored down there--both canned and not [like winter squash]...and I think you may be able to have something of a vision of the wood chip/ash dust over everything. We didn't have an over abundance of mold...but there was a little. That is why I, yours truly, who has a high level of mold already in my system, wore the respirator most of the time I was down there. (I took it off a couple of times because the bridge of my nose was hurting.)

I started out yesterday by scooping up several five gallon buckets full of wood chippy stuff and hauling that out of the basement. I cleaned out the furnace--no need to let ashes sit in it all summer--and took the last two buckets of ashes out for the season. No knee deep snow to wade through to get to the garden either! Yippee!! Daddy and I cleaned out the old oil room (which is the room the wood lands in when slid down the chute during the cold days) yesterday--buckets of paint...the wheat sprouting apparatus...a wooden pallet. These items mostly emerged from the basement via the window. The wheat sprouting thingy, I think, was the only thing that had to come out by means of the stairway. 

The next thing we did was move the fabric off the "dread sled" (something along the lines of a stretcher Daddy built a few years back that was supposed to be used in case of a tornado emergency to get Grandpa into the basement...it was never actually tried out.) I believe there is somewhere's along 9 rubbermaid boxes of varying sizes full of fabric. In my own not necessarily so humble opinion, I do not think that we need to go fabric shopping anytime soon...I wonder if we can make it somewhat more accessible. We put six of them into the next room, up on top of a series of cinder block and wood slab shelves. The other three, plus the boxes holding Savannah and I's china got moved to the other side of the furnace. Mama and I took the china to the garage this afternoon, but that's getting ahead of myself.

Mama, Daddy, and Savannah went to a market meeting for the upcoming Farmer's Market, so I had Katherine help me take the dread sled and another pallet out of the basement. I then swept again (the whole basement basically) before coming up and washing my now nasty filthy hair. Katherine had been going to make supper, but I ended up fixing our omelettes. She was washing up dishes from a kimchi/kraut making spree, so I didn't mind. I really would rather make supper than wash up the food processor. 

This morning, after washing eleven dozen eggs (can you tell I didn't get to them on Saturday--and neither did anybody else? :D), I returned to the basement. Daddy was already down there and was doing something...I think it was clearing off the rest of the wall adjoining the one the dread sled had sat against. I just remembered that this was when the boxes with the china got moved (the first time). Anyway, before lunch, we had that wall cleaned off and the "oil room" scrubbed. 

After lunch, Daddy and Katherine went off to town--Katherine had one more blood test. Mama joined me downstairs and we proceeded to haul a good deal of stuff up the stairs so that we could clean the entire furnace room more efficiently. The scrubbing and water sweeping commenced! 

At one point, Mama dropped the hose...and it landed on the spray nozzle lever...and she "threatened" to squirt me for laughing because she got soaked. I couldn't help it...it was funny!! 

By the time Daddy and Katherine got home, we had pretty well gotten the floor cleaned up. I continued to piddle around while Daddy fixed up a new landing spot for the remaining coal. I mostly just stood around like an ornamental bump on the wall (a rather odd looking one with that "gas mask" on my face) while he transferred the bags. By that point, I was tired enough that I probably would have had a great deal of difficulty lifting one of the bag. (I started out the day tired. Lyme again. Thankfully, my stomach has not been in rebellion today like it was much of yesterday.)

I went to get a snack (it almost always helps) and I guess he hauled out the old pallet while I was munching on carrots because when I got back down there, he had just about finished scrubbing the floor where the pallet had sat. I helped with sweeping the excess water down the sump pump and then announced that, "I'm going to feed the chickens early and call it quits." There wasn't much more to be done until the floor dries anyway. I imagine, therefore, that "stuff" will get returned to the basement tomorrow, the bedstead removed (it has mold on it too) and that area spot cleaned...

Savannah is currently fixing supper and me, myself, and I shall happily consume said supper when it is done. :) In the meantime, maybe I can push myself to do something else useful...then again...maybe I'll pick up my book and read a little. I have to remind myself often enough that reading is not a waste of time.

Until my next post then...fare-thee-well!!

      Racheal

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April 09th, 2015

4/9/2015

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I had one of "those" days yesterday. The kind that leave you feeling completely useless...or if someone even raised their voice a little bit at you you would dissolve into senseless tears. Stoned. Unable to stand up straight. Pain in the hip. Weak. Plain and simple--dumb. 

That being the case, you will find it hardly surprising that the task I set myself for the day did not get completed. For that matter, it didn't even get started. As a wise man once said (roughly), "One must learn to use the magic word, 'No'." 

Still for all that, I did manage to put some books that are going to Goodwill into boxes and put those two end-table thingys that came from Granddaddy's house together. Only to discover that, "Oh, I was going to paint those..." Oh. Anyway though, all in all, Mama didn't mind that I had put them together. This way they aren't floating around in pieces in various boxes...AND it got the table parts out of the chairs. :D 

I forced myself to wash the lunch dishes. It's pretty much true when I jokingly say, "I am able to wash dishes--even when I feel terrible!" Still, it took me repeating to myself, "I do have enough gumption to wash those dishes" a few times before I actually got it done.

After that...I can't really remember what I did....

S0, the long and short of it is that I did yesterday's task today...rearranging my bedroom bookshelves! My War Between the States library got moved from the side that my clothes rack shadows to make it more accessible. I also added some of the books I had in a box as well as my newly acquired ones. I found a few that I had been looking for in a drawer in my desk, so I put them there to. (Railroad War...there you are!! I didn't think it was in Florida...) Come to think of it, I have even more in another drawer. I use those though for research purposes frequently enough. 

I ended up bringing down a couple of stacks of books (sorry, Mama!!) that I took off my shelf. I of course left my Douglas Bond's up there--all seven of the ones I own--and my old Detective Book Club books. Then of course there are the short story books I still occasionally pull off and read when I don't feel good. Previous generations children's literature was at least half-way decent. They actually knew how to use words. But I digress. 

In the process of shifting books, I also ended up dusting three pieces of furniture (now why didn't I go ahead and do the rest??), hanging my Norman Rockwell pictures that I got for Christmas (thanks for your help, Savannah!!), going through my "reenacting box", and emptying and repacking the top drawer in my dresser. It's a whole lot more practical now. It is good when I clean up with the "get rid of--don't be sentimental" attitude. 

Oh, I just remembered something I did yesterday, but it's related, so bear with me. I used to keep my Third National folded up on the bookshelf, since I didn't have a place for it. Well, yesterday afternoon, I decided, since I haven't any curtains at this precise moment (I forget why exactly), that I would utilize the old curtain bar hooks up at the top to hang my flag. As it turns out, the hooks are set too wide to hang the flag vertically (which I didn't really  want to do for two reasons: 1] I'm up North and 2] my cats would put holes in it), so I managed to hang it horizontally, rather like a bunting. I would take a photograph and put it up, only I have yet to locate my mother's camera since she's been home. Not that I have looked overly hard, either.

As seems to be the case when I get to house cleaning, by the time I was done with my room, putting clean sheets on, cleaning the bathroom and the kitchen...my heels had begun to hurt. I guess it must be my flat footed-ness...though Grandpa might suggest heel-spurs. NOT something I really would like to seriously consider. But, now that I've sat here for a little while, I think I'll probably get by without a heel induced limp like I had a few days ago. :)

The chickens will need feeding in a few minutes, so I'll go ahead and sign off...

      Racheal

P.S. Before I got this posted, Daddy called for someone to come pump the brakes for him...and I ended up with a mini-lesson on disc brakes!
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    The Middle Kid

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