We re-entered the hospital and rode the elevator up to the 3rd floor--where Grandpa is--and spent a few minutes leaning on the window bar and laughing at the de-construction zone below us.
One of the three big machines had a magnet on it for picking up the iron scraps out of the felled building's former structure. We watched that for a while before we realized that the guy in the one to the left was using the big bucket on his machine to pick out the same sort of metal rubbish! We burst out laughing over this, because it would have been simply faster (and probably easier) had he gotten out and done it by hand. Still, the man did have "mad skills" (wherever that piece of slang originated). Anyway, for some reason, Tommy and Ricky came to my mind and I gestured towards the magnet man, "The guy with the magnet would be Ricky...and Tommy would be the one picking the metal out with the scoop!" We thereafter erupted into more effusive mirth, imagining the things that the brother's might say to each other (or about each other) under the circumstances. I am sure we were equally successful in envisioning the teasing, ornery gleam that they might have in their eyes and even the body language that would have accompanied any such teasings.
In all, we had a pleasant few moments enjoying a hearty laugh.
We then drifted back to Grandpa's room and he was just waking up. He was in one of the chairs, so I plopped myself down on the bed, my feet dangling over the edge (y'all know about my short legs, correct?) and sat there for chattering at and with him until suppertime. I had fixed him up a cup of coffee before I seated myself...he seemed to enjoy it.
When supper arrived, it proved to be a sloppy joe (we always called them "sloppy jane's" in our house due to the all-girl population amongst the children), a salad, and some tater tots. Since Grandpa would have ended up with most of the 'joe' down his front, I wrastled the bun filled with tasty-looking stuffing for him. I mean, I held it for him; I didn't eat it!!
We left around six as he was starting in on his stewed apricots. It was high time to get the chickens fed...and me for that matter. By the time I got in from my chicken chores, my stomach was burning. I'm blaming it primarily on too much coffee over the past several days. As soon as I put food into it, the burning was quelled.
In mighty happy news, Grandpa should be released from the hospital tomorrow morning!!!!