What Fresh Not-Heaven Is THIS?

Genius, The Pony, and I have been playing Wordle every day, sending our results to each other. I had ONE DAY where I was the winner! So far, The Pony has been leading our pack, sometimes guessing the word in 3 tries. Genius has done that a couple times. Me? Only ONCE! But it was grand, being the daily winner of our trio. At least I've guessed it every day, as have Genius and The Pony. You only get 6 tries.

Now The Pony has come up with a torture more heinous than anything Farmer H could ever inflict upon me. I refuse to suspect that The Pony is trying to kill me. But if I played this game, it might...

"Hey, Mom! You know that Wordle game Genius told you about? Well now there's a new one. WORLDLE! It's about geography! It gives you the silhouette of a country, and you type in your guess. If you're wrong, it tells you what direction to go from your country to get to the right one. And what your chances are of getting it right."

"No thank you. I don't think that's the game for me!"

"Try today's! I'll even give you a hint. It's an ISLAND!"

"Is it England?"

"Heh, heh. No. You didn't even look at it. I guessed it the first try. It's Iceland."

 

"Good for you. You KNOW how I am with geography!"

"Let me bring my phone over so you can play. Here. What country is this?"

"I don't know... Russia?"

"MOM! I already told you! It's ICELAND!"

"Oh. Well. It doesn't look like Iceland to me. It looks like Russia."

"I can't believe I told you today's answer, and you STILL couldn't get it!"

"I won't be playing that game."

Who in the WORLD would want to play that? Not this ol' gal, that's for sure. I don't need to be reminded every day of my inadequacies.

I HOPE We're Not Going There Again

Sweet Gummi Mary! Saturday morning, I took my medicine at 6:00 a.m, then at 7:00 a.m. It doesn't say I can't take them at the same time, and in the hospital they just give you every med in a little plastic cup to swallow at the same time. But I like to stagger them a bit. I took the prednisone at 6:00, and the doxycycline at 7:30. Then I was tired from only sleeping four hours. So at 8:30, I went back to bed for a nap.

 

When I got up at 10:00, I had a definite RASH! It was on my upper chest/shoulder area, and on my forearms and the backs of my arms. Itchy, itchy!

 

Now the dilemma. Is it just the rash from the VIRUS? Which the NP Birdy told me is common. She was not at all concerned with the rough itchy rash on my lower back, just above the rumpus. Felt it, and said it didn't feel or look like a strep rash. Looked at the little pink bumps on my upper chest/shoulder area, and said it wasn't much. Then suggested the benedryl, and lotion because dry skin is itchier than moist skin.

OR...

Is it a rash from an allergic reaction to the antibiotic, which is doxycycline, which I've had before? I'm on Day 4 of a 7-day prescription. If I'm allergic, I should stop taking it. I've had allergic reactions to medicine before, and this looks just like it. HOWEVER, I had a mild form of this rash BEFORE I started taking the doxycycline!

For now, I'm declaring that it's a VIRUS rash. The more I looked it up online, it seems that's the case. Seems about 20% of recovering VIRUSers get such a rash about 4 weeks after contracting the VIRUS. Which I got on Jan 22, and noticed this little rash on Feb 20.

I'm kind of worried what this rash will do when I take my last prednisone pill on Sunday...

Nothing Mysterious About The Pony's Package

Of course we're not discussing The Pony's personal package, but one he was tasked with delivering at work. He's so kind to show us the unusual items he deals with. So this time, I was confused when he showed me the picture.

"Want to see a package I took a picture of today?"

"Okay. I don't have my glasses, though."

"I think you can tell without them. See?"

"Uh. No? What IS that?"

"You don't know what this is? I couldn't take a picture of the front, because the address was on it. I thought the back would be good enough."

"Let me get my glasses. Or you can tell me. Or put your phone closer!"

 

"It's a SHOVEL, Mom!"

How embarrassing! I am blinder than I thought. But I also wasn't thinking of a shovel. WHO DOES THAT? Who orders a dang shovel through the mail? 

 

I guess somebody who was snowed in, and couldn't get out to buy a shovel...

Farmer H took a look at it, and proclaimed it to be a guitar. He even had his glasses.

It's WHO You Know

It's probably WHOM you know, but I'm not a stickler for proper pronouns. 

 

Farmer H took me by the pharmacy after my most recent visit to Convenient Care. I had prednisone for five days, and doxycycline for seven days. I always thought an antibiotic was prescribed for ten days, but you know I'm such a shrinking violet that it didn't occur to me to question it. I didn't know until I got home, and I sure wasn't interested in calling NP Birdy to ask. I might insist on a certain drug, but I don't presume to know the dosage.

 

Anyhoo... my prescriptions were not quite ready. I was told this by the pharmacist himself, who was behind the tall counter. I might have mentioned before that this pharmacist is the older brother of two of my former students. He met my eye as I walked in.

"Oh, we're working on your prescriptions now. They're almost ready."

"Thanks."

"Would you like me to run your regular prescriptions now? To save you a trip? It's almost time for the refills."

 

"I don't think so. I still have enough left. I always do them on the same day. The 25th, I think. This is only the 22nd." 

 

"Yes, you call them in on the 25th."

 

"Okay, I'll just wait. I don't want to get too far ahead."

 

I was browsing at the medicines on the shelves of that tall counter, looking for the Benedryl. Just in case of an allergic reaction that would make me break out into even more spots. I found the Benedryl pills. But not the liquid form, which NP Birdy had suggested. I guess it gets absorbed faster.

"Could you tell me where to find the liquid Benedryl? I see the pills here. I'm supposed to get it in case I have an allergic reaction."

"It's on the children's shelf behind you. Get the generic."

"Okay. Thank you."

I looked. And looked. Saw the brand name. But not the generic.

"Huh. I can't seem to find the generic."

"It's right there beside the original."

"Sorry. I'm just not seeing it."

The Pharmacist came out from behind that long tall counter, and reached out and handed me the generic.

"Wow! They're such tricksters! It's the exact same style and color as the real box!"

He chuckled and went back to his job. Great with customer service, that guy!

Shortly, I got my prescriptions and paid for them and the fake children's Benedryl. The girl ringing them up was extra-nice to me. It's who you know, people! Though I'm sure The Pharmacist would have been just as polite to any old HICK off the street... 

At least he made me feel special.

We've Got To Stop Meeting Like This

Back to Convenient Care on Tuesday, with my hive-y rash. It was not as busy this time, my third visit there in 28 days. Farmer H dropped me off at the door, and didn't go in. I was feeling fine this time, just itchy and concerned. I checked in and sat down under the TV. Only two other people in the waiting room, and they were together. A woman on a sit-on walker, and her male companion. She was called in a couple minutes after I got there. I was next, about two minutes later.

The gal checking my vitals was a bit ditzy, but friendly. She took my history, but I don't know how much of it got to the Nurse Practitioner, since she was writing on a Post-It note. You'll never guess who I got as my NP. Yes you will!

BIRDY!

The NP whom I was not so fond of, who gave me the Z-Pack that did nothing for my fever the first time I was there on Jan 24, in the midst of my Pony sickness. Not that it's Birdy's fault. An antibiotic does nothing for a VIRUS. I just wasn't thrilled with her chairside manner.

Birdy was a bit more friendly this time, though I still suspect she might have a case of Oppositional-Defiant Disorder. I explained the Lovenox injections during my Unfortunate HospitVALzation. And the hospital follow-up nurse's belief that it was from the preservative in a generic form of Lovenox. I told her the timing of the end of steroids, and the start of these at-first small red spots that expanded into larger-than-tennis-ball bright pink flat hives.

Birdy even looked at those hive-y things herself. Felt them for heat. Poked them for texture. Yet at the end of the appointment, she was in denial as to the causation. 

"I don't know if it's from the Lovenox. It might be cellulitis. Does it hurt when I press on them?"

"No. They don't hurt at all. And it's funny that they appeared one at a time, around each injection hole I had from the Lovenox. I could tell the order the shots were given by the timing of the spots' appearance."

Seriously. If I'm going to have cellulitis, it will be in my legs. Not six spots on my belly-fat after six injections.

Birdy wanted to give me a steroid to reduce the hive-y-ness. And an antibiotic in case of infection, since a couple of the hive-y spots were getting little red scabby things on them. Probably from my wayward scratching, even though I thought I controlled myself fairly well for the past 10 days since the first one appeared.

Birdy was Not-Heaven-bent on prescribing me Bactrim.

"I know you're allergic to the penicillins and the cephalosporins. But how about the sulfa drugs? Can you take them? Have you had Bactrim?"

"I don't know if I've ever had it. Surely I would have made a note to list it as an allergy if I broke out from it."

"Well, I'm going to prescribe it for you, and some prednisone for the itching and redness. Don't take them and go to sleep! In case you might have an allergic reaction. Take them during the day. And you also might get some liquid benadryl for the itching, and in case you have an allergic reaction."

"Benadryl makes me go to sleep. So I'm not sure that would be a good thing to take..."

"Oh. Well. Then just have some on hand in case you have an allergic reaction."

I suppose so I can put myself to sleep...

Anyhoo, I must have mentioned doxycycline about 37 times while I was there. How I know I'm not allergic to that, because I just had it to get rid of ear infections in December.

"I don't know if it works for skin issues like this. But I know I've taken it without any problems."

It was almost as if Birdy didn't want to give it to me BECAUSE I brought it up!

Anyhoo... I left there with her calling in my prednisone and Bactrim. Farmer H took me to Country Mart and the Gas Station Chicken Store for scratchers. While I was in Country Mart, money in the lottery machine, and a couple scratchers in the tray, my phone rang.

"Hello. HM? This is Birdy, from Convenient Care. According to the medication list, Bactrim will interact with your blood pressure prescription. So instead of Bactrim, I'm giving you doxycycline. I knew that would be okay with you. You're probably more comfortable with it anyway. So I'm just letting you know that I changed it, and the pharmacy is getting it ready."

"Okay. Thank you."

Heh, heh. One way or another, Mrs. HM gets her way.

Here We Go Again

Farmer H is loading me up for another trip to Convenient Care this afternoon (Tuesday). I actually feel pretty good, but after a conversation with the hospital nurse who called to check on me Monday, and an overnight development, I feel better getting checked out.

I still have those bright pink spots from the Lovenox. One is wider than a tennis ball now. It's funny how they appeared one by one, about a day apart, until I had the full complement of six, from my six shots. And how they doubled in size almost every day. They are not perfectly round, but oval, due to gravity's pull, I suppose.

Anyhoo, the nurse told me that it's probably a reaction to the preservative in the shot. That's what most people react to. And that in the future, if I have to get Lovenox, to tell them I need the BRAND NAME, and not a generic, which seem to have a different preservative. Funny how I also had a reaction at the dentist one time, with the novocaine stuff, and now I'm supposed to have mepivicaine instead. Plus I had a dizzy reaction to lidocaine when my old doc used it in the office to cut off a skin lesion on my shoulder.

Anyhoo, the nurse seemed a bit concerned, and said to watch those spots for heat or hardening, because that could mean an infection. She said that the 1% hydrocortisone cream I got over the counter should have had more of an effect in making them go away. I've had them at least 8 days now.

 

The nurse said my thought that the steroid kept this reaction at bay MIGHT have been part of it. Since the bright pink spots started about two days after ending the steroid. She also said that it takes a while for the Lovenox to work its way through the fat, and up to the surface where it would cause this reaction with the skin.

Here's what happened overnight. I've also had an itchy spot on my spine, from the rumpus upward. I can't see it, but it feels like small bumps, which are rough. I remember when the boys were young, and had strep, and it was a red tiny-bump sandpapery rash. So I don't want to think I have strep! During the night, my upper chest also started itching, and I saw little red bumps in the mirror. Plus, my face looks like a toddler put on makeup, because my cheeks are very red. I don't have any fever. Not even up to 98.6.

 

I'd like to think it's all just related to the Lovenox, and will go away since I haven't had any Lovenox since Feb 3. But I also hope I don't have another infection poised to jump into my lungs.

I might be a hypochondriac, but I think it's worth getting checked out.

A New Addiction For Mrs. HM

Genius is an enabler. He had the audacity to ask me, by text, on Sunday if I play Wordle. No. I do not. An answer Genius did not like to hear. Or read.

"It's so easy!"

"I've heard of it. People are mad that the NY Times took over. They say the words are impossible now. And their winning streaks were erased."

"The words are NOT harder! You should try it."

"I'll have The Pony put it on my phone. Or can I play it on my computer?"

"Do it on your phone. You can send results on your phone. It's not even an app. Just a link: 

 

https://www.nytimes.com/games/wordle/index.html

 

"Okay. I'll get to it later."

 

Genius contacted me twice, asking if I played yet. I had not. When I finally did, I sent him my experience. Got it in six tries. The last chance! The word was SWILL. A Genius kind of word. Genius did NOT get it! Heh, heh!

 

Anyhoo... he started goading me to share my results with him. It shows the number of tries, but no letters. Since it has a handy SHARE button, I did. Now Genius sends me his results every morning when I'm trying to sleep. I send mine later in the day.

 

The first day, I mistakenly sent a text to The Pony that was meant for Genius. It included my tries until I got the word, but not the word itself. Later in the evening, I encouraged Pony to play. He got in on the second try!

 

"Dang it! You're not supposed to beat me!"

 

"Um. Did you forget that message you meant to send to Genius? I had all your tries to work with."

 

"Oh. That's cheating!"

 

"I know. But I shared it with Genius anyway. And that's what HE said: 'You cheated!'"

 

Now we are all playing and sending our results. Genius and I got today's word on the fourth try. I was quite proud, until Genius said, "Four is like par in golf. The expected number of turns." So much for ME being a genius...

 

Anyhoo... The Pony got today's word in THREE tries. With no cheating. We can't let this happen. Genius and I need to step up our game. There's only one word every 24 hours. Good thing. Today's took me about 20 minutes. The word was OTHER. Not really all that hard...

How Dare She!

When I was checking out at Country Mart on Friday, the Old Lady Checker made a mistake. She had to call a supervisor over with a key to clear it out. I don't know what she did. Something scanned wrong or she didn't get a sale price or something. She said she wasn't used to that short register, and kept missing something. 

 

Old Lady Checker was having trouble getting items into the bag. This wire bag-holder was behind her, not at the end of the counter like on the long checkouts. She had put The Pony's bottle of wine into a slim paper bag, with a lot of trouble, and then into the plastic bag. But she exclaimed, "Oh, no. I did that AGAIN!" She did something to the register, then took the wine out of the plastic bag, and out of the slim paper bag, and scanned it again.

 

"There. Now you'll have an unripped bag, anyway." 

 

Not that I minded if The Pony's wine rode home in a torn paper sack. But I can see how it would have been hard to fit it back into the same slim paper sack, since the top had been crinkled.

I looked at my receipt when I got back to T-Hoe. Just to make sure they hadn't BLATANTLY cheated me on something. What I saw curdled my blood!

The Old Lady Checker must have forgotten to type in an age for the alcohol purchase. She never asked me for ID, of course. She had taken it upon herself to type one in.

65!!!

Let the record show that Mrs. HM is NOT 65! And no, Mrs. HM is not OLDER than 65, for all you wiseacres who might imply that!

I guess my recent illness has really taken a toll on my girlish appearance...

Dogs Gonna Dog

I fear that Juno has grown ill-mannered during the time I was out of commission in the hospital, and sealed up in the Mansion for two weeks after. She was never exactly Miss Congeniality, but she minded her Ps and Qs around ME.

Friday I made my first solo trip to town. I felt pretty good, except for some dizziness on the way home. I made only one stop, Country Mart. I bought some deli shrimp dinners for Farmer H and The Pony. A bottle of wine for The Pony's next day off. Bananas. Chef salads. Ritz Crackers that were NOT expired. Five cans of sardines in mustard sauce. Hawaiian Rolls. A bottle of squeeze Kraft Mayo. And four ribeye steaks. 

 

The Pony kept talking about seeing the sign out front saying they were $8.88 a pound, bone-in. I don't know if that's a bargain, but the ones I bought were boneless, and I got four for $21. Which is just over $5 per ribeye, which is good enough for me! I don't eat them anyway. Farmer H will grill them, and he and The Pony will get two suppers out of them.

Anyhoo... with several bags to carry in, I had to make a decision. I could leave the heavier ones on the metal chair on the side porch, and carry in the shrimp dinners and salads and Hawaiian Rolls on my arm with my purse as I went up the steps to unlock the door.

It wasn't until I went through the people door of the garage that I realized I'd be setting down the bag with the ribeye steaks. Oh, well. The dogs don't bother the groceries. I'd just be a minute grabbing the last bags and my purse out of T-Hoe.

THAT DARN JUNO!

The minute I set down those bags, she went straight to the chair, and stuck her nose on the ribeye bag!

"NO! JUNO! BAD DOG! GET AWAY!"

Juno had the good sense to duck her head and walk around to the steps, and give me the sorry look. But I'll be darned if she didn't walk right back to the chair when I turned around!

"NO! BAD DOG JUNO!"

Then she came over by the people door, looking sorry-er. I rushed (at the speed of a geriatric snail) to T-Hoe's rear and grabbed the other three bags. Then my purse from the passenger seat. All the while yelling at the dogs. Gentleman Jack had not gone near the grocery chair. 

I set down the first load in the kitchen, and came back for my ribeyes and heavy food. Copper Jack was standing at the bottom of the porch steps. He never bothers the groceries. He knew I was extra not-happy, and slunk away as I grabbed them.

Once I had the groceries in the Mansion, I tossed the dogs their treat. A slice of week-old pizza left from The Pony. And a slice of rye bread bought by Farmer H when I first came home from the hospital.

Juno knows better than to mess with my ribeyes! But she is, after all, a dog. 

Dogs gonna dog.

Possession Is 2/3 Of The Law

I've been spending a lot of time sitting on the short couch since my Unfortunate HospitVALzation. It has two cushions. The right side cushion is piled with a couple square pillows we don't use. They match the couches. My gambling purse sits perched atop these pillows. Before our casino trip on Tuesday, I was counting through my casino bankroll, and changing out some bigger bills for twenties. Farmer H is my moneychanger. He likes to use the bigger bills, but takes in a lot of smaller ones at his Storage Unit Store. 

Thursday night, as I was shifting around to get more comfortable on the short couch, my hand went down between the cushions. Huh. I felt something. Paper. What could THAT be? I don't have wrappers on the couch. It wasn't a birthday card, of which I have several under the pillows. I pulled out that paper, and saw...

THREE TWENTY DOLLAR BILLS!

Sweet Gummi Mary! I hit the jackpot! Where did THAT come from? Did I drop it when counting my money? Not sure. I knew how much I handed Farmer H, and how much he gave me back. All was accounted for. Maybe I had laid it down on my negligible lap while counting. I sometimes have an odd couple bills in a small pocket of my gambling purse, for buying scratchers on the way home.

 

Wait a minute! The Pony said he sits on the short couch in the morning before work, putting on his shoes. Maybe that money fell out of The Pony's jacket pocket. Although I don't know if he carries money in his jacket pocket.

 

Friday evening, I asked The Pony if he'd recently lost anything.

 

"I don't know. Like what?"

 

"I found three twenties in the crack between the cushions on the short couch! I don't know if they're mine from my gambling purse, or if you might have dropped them out of a pocket."

 

"I don't think it's mine. I don't usually carry money in my pocket. But I DO have twenties laying all around. Like on the coffee table, in that little tub that you gave me so it wouldn't be scattered all over. And I DO sit there in the mornings to tie my shoes. But I don't know that I've lost any money." 

"I feel bad for keeping it. Even though it might be mine. I can give you ONE of the twenties."

"You don't have to. I don't know if it's mine. But I'll take it if you want to give it to me."

So I gave The Pony a twenty, and kept the other two for myself. It's a terrible problem to have...

All That Trouble For Nothing

Welp! It looks like Mrs. HM's best-laid plans have gone awry. All that trouble arguing with Farmer H to re-claim T-Hoe. He finally relinquished my trusty vehicle, saying he could drive A-Cad on Friday. Even though he doesn't expect to get SilverRedO back from Mick the Mechanic until Monday.

Now we have a wintery mix on the ground. Not much. But I saw the sleet coming down mid-afternoon as the temperature dropped. It lined the porch and rails of the Mansion. It doesn't bother me to drive on it. T-Hoe has never let me down. It DOES bother me to think I might slip and fall!

Farmer H always scoops it off the porch steps as best he can. And there's a rail for those four steps. But the Gas Station Chicken Store doesn't clean off their lot, save sprinkling salt around the gas pump area and door. Orb K has chunks of frozen trouble sliding off their roof, and crashing to the sidewalk. The Liquor Store has a short hill and ramp up to the door. Country Mart generally does not clean off their sidewalk. IF Save A Lot plows their lot, I might be able to find a parking spot and get inside there to use their lottery machine.

I was SO looking forward to getting back to town for scratchers. The Pony says he will keep me updated on conditions. He says the temp is supposed to get into the 40s. Maybe by the time I go to town, it will be melted.

An Interesting Craving

When the nurse called from the hospital to follow up on my discharge, she said to make sure I ate protein and fat, to get the nutrients needed to help me recover. Even if I didn't feel like eating. I told her my appetite was okay, and that every day since I got out, I wanted the same thing for lunch: Sardines in Mustard Sauce. She must not be a sardine-lover, heh, heh. But agreed that they DO contain the protein and fat that I need. I think they're also high in vitamin D. Not sure. I didn't look it up.

Anyhoo... Farmer H is horrified. He HATES sardines. He used to work with a guy who ate them for lunch every day, with crackers. And all afternoon, it would be on his breath. Too bad so sad. I even made Farmer H BUY THEM FOR ME when he made a trip to the store. Only the best for Mrs. HM. He did it!

However, Farmer H said he could not find the sardines at Save A Lot, where I buy them. He said they only had a giant oval can of them on the shelf, in oil. That's malarky! I've bought them there for many years. Farmer H SAID he asked the checkout girl, and she said, "Oh, we don't carry them. Never have." One of these two is a liar!

Anyhoo... Farmer H bought me a different brand at Country Mart. I've had that different brand before, and didn't like them. They are small and dark. Maybe six or eight in the can. The Save A Lot version is silver, with two meaty sardines per can. Upon eating Farmer H's version, I found them quite acceptable! It must be the craving. Any old sardine in mustard sauce will do.

Good thing. Farmer H bought 15 cans.

With A Name Like THAT, How Could It Be Bad

I am growing a bit concerned. It has been almost two weeks since I was released from the hospital, and something weird is happening. I am itching! Severe itching! With a little pink rash that seems to be spreading. Oh, I don't scratch it. That would be bad. Might aggravate the area. Which is my belly.

The problem is where I got my Lovenox shots. The shots of blood-thinner they give everyone in the hospital so they won't get blood clots from lying around. I had them when I got my gallbladder out, and of course when I was hospitalized with the multiple bilateral pulmonary embolisms. Just shot into your belly fat every 12 hours. Not even painful. A jab. And later, a lot of bruising. I had no issues before. I KNEW that I'd have a line of bruises across my belly. I did NOT expect the itchy bright pink rash. It's only about the size of two quarters. For now...

When I looked up the side effects, this isn't really one of them. It seem to be considered rare. I can only assume that maybe my dose of steroids had something to do with it. That seems to be when this rash started, a couple days after I was off the steroid. I know steroids suppress the inflammatory response. So maybe that kept the itchy rash at bay, and it took hold once the steroid got out of me.

I didn't have the itchy rash, just one little bright pink spot, when the nurse called to check on me. So I didn't bring it up. I DID ask about my liver enzymes, which were "slightly elevated" from my bloodwork on my appointment Feb 9. But this nurse looked it up, and said they test for three different liver enzymes, and that while I was in the hospital, TWO were elevated, and now it was only one. So that was a bit of a relief. She said that while my body was fighting the pneumonia that all kind of toxins were being tossed around, and that could be why the liver enzymes were elevated. None of the drugs I listed, including the Lovenox, were anything that would affect the liver, she said.

Anyhoo... short of my whole body breaking out with this bright pink rash, I think I'll ride it out. My belly is just now getting those dark purple bruises from the six shots I had. So I figure maybe the bright pink rash will be gone by the time the purple bruises get absorbed. If not, I'll call and ask the nurse at my NP's office about it.

Seriously. With a name like LOVEnox, how could it be bad for me? It did its job. Now I just have to let it get out of my system. Which technically it does in 12 hours. But those bruises always show up later. Now with a new mystery rash!

Farmer H Again Behaves Abnormally To Annoy Me

One phrase I associate with Farmer H is: WHO DOES THAT? He definitely has some weird ideas. 

Monday, he came home after picking up the mail and finally getting some cash out of our Pony House account. With me out of commission, we'd been spending out of our regular checking account to pay Pony House bills. 

Farmer H was supposed to take out money on Friday, but he forgot! And then he told me that Monday was President's Day, so our credit union would be closed. Nope! President's Day is NEXT Monday. So I sent him a text, and he went by and got the cash out. Which we will use over time for our weekly cash allowances, and keep in one of the basement safes, rather than withdrawing from our checking account.

Anyhoo... Farmer H came to the living room, and said,

"I put the money on your computer."

"WHAT? Why would you do THAT? You mean you put it on the keyboard?"

"Yes. It didn't hurt nothin'."

"You don't KNOW that! It might have set off something, depending on which keys it pushed."

"It didn't light up or nothin'. So it's fine."

I went to the kitchen, and saw that Farmer H had laid the two pieces of mail on the table beside HIPPIE, yet put the money envelope right on the keys.

WHO DOES THAT?

Thankfully, my HIPPIE had gone to sleep. So it needed me to sign in with the security password to get going again. I don't even want a security password like this, but The Pony set it up that way when HIPPIE was new. I guess it might have saved HIPPIE from going all wonky from Farmer H's less-than-tender touch plopping the money envelope on the keys.

I'm not sure WHY the money could not have laid on the mail right next to HIPPIE.

The First Non-Medical Outing

I had asked Farmer H to take me to town on Saturday, Feb 12. It was Day 22 since I became ill, and I wasn't feeling like driving, but wanted to see if I was getting back to normal. It was easier to get down the porch steps than on my doctor visit on Wednesday. I even took a dog biscuit out for Juno and Jack. They were thrilled, but not all jumpy with me. Almost as if they sensed my weakness.

We took A-Cad, because I didn't think I could climb up into T-Hoe. It's awkward at healthy times, since I'm used to the driver's door side. The ride was uneventful. I had a couple of dizzy spells when I turned my head. Farmer H parked out in front of Country Mart, where I often park myself. There was a cart left on the sidewalk, so I had the cart/walker to lean on while going inside. Farmer H had wanted to drop me off at the door, but I wanted him beside me.

The wind cut through me like a knife. I tried to keep a slow pace to the door. Inside, I stopped for two chef salads in the cold case. They looked so good! And they were! I sent Farmer H to grab some bananas. Of course I didn't inspect them, and once home, saw that they were the tiniest bananas ever to enter the Mansion. We picked up some cupcakes for Birthday HM and Pony. A bag of gold potatoes. A bag of sweet onions. Got a loaf of Texas Toast bread that The Pony uses to make garlic bread. Some assorted mini candy bars that Pony had asked for. Saltine crackers, which I was craving. Picked up Coke at four 6-packs for $10. Diet Mountain Dew at three 6-packs for $9. Got two Kraft Mayonnaise on sale. I made Farmer H lean down to pick them up, and make sure the date was good. July 2022. I got a box of fake honey nut cheerios. A bag of frozen french fries, which I also crave. And Farmer H found his individual ice cream cups.

By the time we hit the mayonnaise aisle, I was feeling a little shaky. Not like I was going to faint. Just shaky. I leaned on my cart/walker. We made it to the other end of the store. I was not very attentive at the checkout as Farmer H put food on the conveyor. He managed to flip the cupcakes completely upside down, knocking them out of their little cups, shaking all the sprinkles off them, gumming their buttercream icing to the clear container.

"Oh, do you want to go get another one?" The checker must be familiar with Farmer H type customers.

"No. That was the last one. We'll keep it."

Farmer H is not good at putting food back into the cart. He had it all awkward, so that it barely fit. I could not concern myself with that. I had to keep my last scrap of strength to stop by the lottery machines and cash in some winners I'd been holding for three weeks. I only won back $16. So it was not a good effort, although The Pony won $4 on a two-dollar ticket I got him, and $2 on a Cash4Life.

Once outside, I made it to A-Cad and got in while Farmer H loaded the groceries in the trunk. He unloaded everything at home. I was putting them away as he brought bags in. I had to sit down and take a breather. It was an exhausting trip, but I think I did pretty well.

Baby steps. As I write this, it's Sunday, and I feel stronger than any day previous.

A Disappointing Discovery

The Pony got me some scratchers for my birthday. I had not scratched a scratcher since Jan 21. I'd been too sick to go to town, and shaking with chills and fever. Scratchers did not even appeal to me. But I WAS happy to get scratchers from The Pony. So I must be getting better! I had the concentration to scratch them. However...

MY SCRATCHING MUSCLES HAVE ATROPHIED!!!

Seriously. It was hard work to scrape the film off of those scratchers. It took a long time. My hand was shaky. I guess I need more practice. And more practice. And MORE practice...

I had a $50 winner, a $5 winner, and a $6 winner. Thanks, Pony!

A Bit Of A Celebration Is In Order

The Pony found out a few days ago that he is now #3 on the list to making regular. His one-year anniversary comes up at the end of April, and after two years he makes regular pay and benefits no matter what the route situation. But most of the CCAs in his office make regular before that two-year time limit. There are only TWO people ahead of The Pony now.

The Pony and I both have a birthday coming up. Pony is taking three days off. He's been working hard, you know, since the holiday season. In the dark with a headlamp, 12-hour days. He's got the time coming. Part of that time will be spent getting some stuff for Pony House, like window shades. And probably picking out the dishes and bread-maker that's our Christmas gift to him.

Farmer H says we can take a trip to the casino next week, as a birthday celebration for me and The Pony. I am feeling better every day, despite the medical professionals at my recent follow-up appointment constantly mentioning that I could have died! As of today, it has been 22 days since I contracted the VIRUS from The Pony. The docs said I was released on Feb 3 to go about business as regular, since I was far enough out from the infection that I'm not spreading it.

We'll see how it goes. Farmer H is driving me to Country Mart on Saturday, and going in with me. Just to see how I feel, in case I need to abandon the cart and head back to A-Cad. I was a bit dizzy at my doctor appointment on Wednesday. But every day I'm feeling stronger.

Glad to make it to another birthday!

Something Is Chickeny In The State Of Mail Delivery

Never a dull moment when The Pony is on the job. He brought home a picture of a delivery. It is questionable.

"I knew you'd want to blog about this one!"

"I don't have my glasses, but I can see what you're getting at!"

"Listen to the description! 'Designed for the super-chewers in your pack. These rock-hard toys stand up to all the gnawing, chewing, and munching your dog can muster. Made of durable nylon infused with tempting rotisserie chicken flavoring that lasts for the lifetime of the toy. Made in USA. Color: Purple. Sizes: S (5 1/2 inches long), L (7 1/2 inches long).'"

"That is SO SKETCHY! The two sizes!"

"Yeah. But I guess they're really dog toys, because of the--"

"ROTISSERIE CHICKEN FLAVOR!"

"I KNOW!"

Never a dull moment for The Pony on the job. Unless he's sitting in snow, waiting on a tow.

A Case Of Pony Tow

Temps have been climbing into the 40s and 50s for a couple days. Some of the snow is melting off, where roads have been plowed. Which doesn't include our gravel road, or some of the side streets on The Pony's route. Tuesday was not a good day for The Pony.

"I got stuck, and nobody came to push me out! It was on a street with only three houses. I have to back up to turn around. The rear-wheel drive on the ProMaster is useless in snow. I tried to rock myself out, but couldn't do it. So I had to call for a tow. The guy who came to get me was in my class at school!"

"Small world. Did he recognize you?"

"Yeah."

Also, on Sunday, one of The Pony's customers came out for the mail, and made a comment.

"Oh, I see you're wearing a Florida shirt."

"I didn't know what he was talking about. It was just a regular t-shirt that I wore before I got my uniform shirts. It was warm enough that I took off my jacket. By the time I realized that he was just saying I was wearing a t-shirt in the snow, he had gone back into his house."

At least the weather will be warming up within a couple months. The Pony will have smooth sailing until the summer heat. AND he should also be moved into his house by that time...

If Week-Old Pizza Won't Kill Me, Maybe Stress Will

Farmer H has such a vast repertoire of possible fatal incidents for me. It's almost like he's an evil mastermind. Or at least half of that.

While I was busy trying to live on Monday night, Jan 31, held hostage in the North ER, Farmer H became obsessed with getting my debit card. I'd had it in my shirt pocket for my convenient care visit, along with my ID and insurance card. They always bill later, but you never know when policy might change. It's easier to have it all handy, rather than dig around in your purse for it. Especially when you're not feeling well.

Farmer H kept telling me on my burner phone that he needed to get that debit card.

"Ain't no reason why you should have that in the hospital. You don't want that laying around."

I guess he was pretty insistent when he barged in with my phone to be delivered to me. Because the gal who brought the phone said, "Your husband says he needs to get your debit card."

"Oh, it's in my shirt pocket."

She brought my shirt, I fished it out of the pocket, and she took off with it. I think Farmer H mentioned that he had it. I don't quite remember all the details that night, but Farmer H quit harping about getting that card.

On Monday, Feb 7, when I'd been back home a few days, I remembered my debit card. Because I'd need it for my follow-up appointment with my doctor on Wednesday, Feb 9.

"Oh, where did you put my debit card? I'll need it for my appointment."

"It's where you keep it. On your glasses case in the kitchen."

"No. I've looked there. That's only my ID and insurance card."

"I put it there. To make sure you'd see it."

"How did you do that? I had my glasses case with me."

"She's right, Dad. I had to get it out of the hospital bag for her."

"Well, I know I put it there. Let me look in my billfold, but I know I took it out. No. Not in here. I put it on the glasses case."

"You couldn't have. YOU go find it."

"Huh. It's not here. I know this is where I put it."

"I really need that card. Now you've lost it."

"I didn't lose it! I put it right there."

"Are you saying that I took it and did something with it, here convalescing with nowhere to go?"

"Alls I know is I put it there."

"You need to find it, or I'll have to get another one from the bank."

Farmer H puttered around the kitchen, digging through the stamps and the bill holder and basically moving things around on the counter, according to The Pony.

"Oh. I know. I put it in your checkbook thing so you'd see it."

"Checkbook thing? The register where I write down the transactions? How did you find that?"

"No. Your checkbook thing." Farmer H carried my actual checkbook into the living room. He had stuck my debit card in a slot inside.

"At least I have it now. Go put it in my glasses case. I would NEVER have looked there for it. I don't keep it there."

Farmer H has some wonky ideas. And a short memory.

My Near-Death Did Not Put A Halt On Farmer H's Efforts To Kill Me

You'd think Farmer H could give it a rest for a week or so, after my unfortunate four-day hospitalization. Could back off on his plans of trying to kill me. I guess he just can't help himself.

WAY BACK before I was deathly ill, we had Domino's pizza for supper. Oh, I was still sick at the time. I just didn't know HOW sick. It was on Sunday night, Jan 30. The Pony picked up Domino's for me and himself. Not sure what Farmer H had that night, but he didn't want it.

Anyhoo... I was not feeling my best, and ate three of the square pieces of pizza. They were tasty. The next day, Monday, Jan 31, I had the smallest, crustiest corner before heading to convenient care. Just to tide me over until I got back. Which I never did until four days later!

While talking to Farmer H on the phone from the confines of the hospital, I told him he might as well eat my leftover pizza, since it didn't look like I'd be having it. He said he would.

Saturday night, Feb 5, I sat on the short couch, telling Farmer H that I was going to warm up some frozen chicken for my supper, in case he wanted some too. Of course he did.

"Man. I sure regret missing my pizza. That would have been SO GOOD. I still had all the best pieces left. Did you like it?"

"Yeah. It was pretty good. I didn't eat it all. You can still have it. It's in the fridge."

"WHAT? Why didn't you tell me before? I can't eat that now. IT'S SEVEN DAYS OLD! Are you trying to kill me?"

"Huh. I guess maybe that IS too long."

Darn tootin'! It's like when Genius was at basketball camp in Missi-freakin-ssippi during 107-degree July, and asked if his pizza left in the un-airconditioned dorm overnight would be okay to eat the next day. I don't think so.

Juno and Jack and Copper Jack certainly enjoyed my leftovers.

When It Snows It Pours

This has not been a good week for the Hillbilly family. First my four-day hospitalization. The snowstorm that came in Wednesday. Farmer H wrecking A-Cad and SilverRedO. Then Saturday night, when I went to bed, I didn't hear Farmer H's breather. I poked him.

"It broke."

"Your breather broke?"

"Yes. It quit working."

"What are you going to do? Do you need to sit up in the chair?"

"No. I'm breathing."

"Well. Sometimes. You're snorting. Gasping."

"I'll be okay. I'll have to get another one."

Well. To get another breather will require a doctor appointment. Probably a sleep study. And around $800 for a new one. The main issue being the TIME to get one.

"I actually bought one at the auction for $2."

"You think that will work? A USED one for $2?"

"I'll have to try it. It's over in the BARn."

But it wasn't.

"Maybe I left it in my truck. But that's over at Mick the Mechanic. Do you have your key?"

"I don't remember having a key to SilverRedO."

"Maybe it only came with one."

"I'll check my purse. There's THIS one..."

"No. That's for the Acadia."

"Well. Maybe it's on the whole key ring. Two look alike."

"Yeah. One of these is it. I'll take the whole thing and go check. I don't want to be messing around on the parking lot in the dark when I go pick up The Pony."

The auction breather was not in SilverRedO.

"Maybe it's in the basement."

Whew! It was. In a pile of stuff Farmer H had brought in from SilverRedO before Christmas. He took it out of the nice bag. He actually bought it to get the mask, which is $80 to buy one. But this had all the instructions and everything. He got it plugged in, and it worked! He disinfected it. So we're hoping it will work for a while.

He Gets By With A Little Help From His Total Stranger Customers

The Pony had Farmer H drive him to work on Saturday. He was on his regular route, driving the ProMaster, I think. The newest van. It had 36 miles on it when assigned to The Pony. Anyhoo... they were delivering mail from Wednesday and Thursday, which finally came in.

The Pony got stuck on his 4th stop. Snow here is over 7 inches. He was kicking some clogs from around his tires when people came out to help! First, three of them tried rocking the van, without success. Then one went to get kitty litter, and another got some hot water to pour on some clogs before putting down the kitty litter for traction. They got The Pony loose!

Also, since The Pony has a hold on a route, he should not have been sent the message not to come in on Friday. According to his union steward, he should be getting paid for that day, even though he didn't work. We'll see.

Two Is Too Many

With my energy flagging of late, I am going to step back a bit here, to tell my tale on my not-so-secret blog. 

This weather is not helping. The Pony has missed a few days of work. Seems the mail trucks couldn't make it through the snow. All CCAs were told not to come to work on Friday. Pony also missed Thursday, to bring me home from the hospital, but no mail arrived that day either. So the time off may not count against him.

We won't even go into Farmer H's transportation problems this week.

The Return

Getting back slowly. Blogger promptly ate my title and first line. Most of the tale will be on my not-so-secret blog. It's 4:39 p.m. Thursday as I type, and snow is swirling around my kitchen window nook. Pony is in an early tub, and Farmer H is watching some dumb western. All is getting back to right with my world.