Pepper Must Have Been Distracted

I knew a delivery was coming by FedEx on Tuesday. Between 2:00 and 4:00. It was no big deal. Just Amazon stuff, which included some of my regular everyday socks, and a pair of the support stockings like used under my leg velcro wraps. I assumed it was all coming in one box, since I'd checked the option to combine the order for one delivery date. However... they'd already sent another item by itself that arrived MONDAY. They are not very economical in their deliveries, even though I tried to help them!

Anyhoo... FedEx just leaves the stuff on the front porch. They don't even knock anymore. I wasn't exactly waiting for it, but figured I'd bring it inside if it got here before I left for town.

At 2:31 I got an email that my package had been delivered. I had heard the delivery person clomping up the steps, but the dogs didn't bark. I figured they were elsewhere. At 2:48, I went to get the box off the porch right before I left.

There was a gray bag lying about three feet from the box. That was odd. I can't imagine a delivery person would walk all the way up on the porch to set down the box, and toss the bag several feet away. I suspected foul play. CANINE play!

Indeed, when I looked at the gray bag, there were many tiny indentations from TEETH. Not all the way through. But still obvious. It was my pair of support stockings. Which are not cheap! Not REAL expensive. I think around $30. Can't remember. But something I wanted so I can have a clean pair to put on while washing and drying the other pair.

I suppose Pepper nabbed that bag as a chew toy, but got distracted. Probably by Farmer H's new rooster, who struts around the Mansion yard in the evenings, and likes to go under the porch. When I left for town, Pepper came running up out of the woods behind POOLIO. 

Later that evening, Jack was under the kitchen window, barking toward that area of the back yard. THEN he took off around the porch, and I heard Pepper baying. Farmer H said they were after the rooster. They charge at him and then back off. Farmer H said they both got a whoopin' for it. I'm sure Jack was ashamed. Pepper, not so much.

Thanks, nameless rooster, for distracting the would-be sock-eater!

A Thief Is A Thief

I always take the dogs a treat as I leave for town. Usually it's a scrap of stale bread that has been dredged in meat juices as I clean up the kitchen after cooking. It gets rid of the bread and the grease, and as treats go, it's a delicacy for the dogs. I walk to the steps of the side porch, which is where I distribute the going-away treats.

Sometimes, the dogs are not around. Like Sunday. I had the two pieces of bread in hand, but no dogs. I could toss them on the porch in case the dogs showed up while I was gone. But Pepper would most likely scarf up both with a quickness, and Jack would be left treatless. I set the bread on the shelf that abuts the garage wall. Too high for the dogs. I could hand them out upon my return, as I came out the garage people-door.

I did the same thing a couple times last week. Both times, Farmer H was home first. The bread was gone. I figured he saw it, and gave it to the dogs. I was meaning to ask, but forgot.

This time, Farmer H was still at his SUS2.5 when I returned to the Mansion. The dogs were waiting on the porch. I did not see the bread on the shelf!!! What in the Not-Heaven?

I can only surmise that those pesky squirrels took them! They were half-slices of bread, a bit heavy with the slather of grease that eased out of the warmed-up bratwursts. A muscular crow could have swooped away with them, but I don't suspect a regular little sparrow.

Those thieving squirrels are into everything. It's bad enough that they raid the regular dry dog food. Now they're stealing dog treats. Farmer H's buddy needs to come a-hunting again.

Perhaps This Is Why I CAIN'T UNDERSTAND NOTHIN'

Sometimes Sundays are boring at the SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5). Especially at the end of the month, when people have run out of disposable income. And when the forecast predicts rain. Every now and then, Farmer H will pass the time by sending me a text. As you might expect from past communications, this is an adventure.

I was not happy Sunday, because I had checked the weather radar from one of the news stations. As usually happens, THEY WERE WAY OFF! I planned my day around their forecast. I wanted to stop in Save A Lot for a few things, and get my lottery tickets. It looked like I would have a perfectly clear window if I was in town from 2:00 to 3:00. So I adjusted my usual schedule by two hours.

Well! It was already raining as I walked out the Mansion door at 2:00. Surely this was an anomaly. It would quit once I got to town. NO! It got worse in town! I decided NOT to wrestle a shopping cart out of Save A Lot. That stuff could wait until Tuesday. 

I got soaked going into the Gas Station Chicken Store, and I even had my rightful handicap space. I wanted other tickets, and instead of Save A Lot's machine, I headed to 10Box. I got out my big broken umbrella that won't stay closed unless I strap it. The workers standing in the door applauded my efforts. It wasn't too bad, because I could stick my tickets in my bra and have both hands free for the umbrella.

Dang it! Once back inside T-Hoe, the umbrella dripping on the passenger side floor, I couldn't find my tickets!!! Oh NO! Did I drop them? I opened the door and looked down. Nope. I glanced back at the path I had taken. I didn't see any tickets. They couldn't just disappear! What if I dropped them inside? I was preparing to get that umbrella and trek inside when I felt them down on my right hip. Whew! I guess they had worked their way out of my new smaller bra as I climbed up on the running board and contorted to bring in the wet umbrella. Still under the shirt, and DRY.

I was back inside the Mansion by 3:07. The rain continued. Around 3:30, it stopped! Those dirty, dirty liars and their weather predictions!

Anyhoo... as I was taking stuff out of my purse, I saw a text. Huh. That wasn't there when I pulled into the garage. I guess it got a better signal while I walked inside the Mansion. Or it could have been a lag because Farmer H has a poor signal in his SUS2.5.

2:21 "Hope your not out in it"

2:33 "It's pouring here and windy"

3:07 "I was. Stupid radar. Showed it getting here 3:00 to 4:30. So I planned town from 2:00 to 3:00. Just got back."

3:12 "I'll leave the saw on my way home ill be here till 4"

3:22 "Okay. No idea what you're talking about."

3:33 "The weather was horrible"

3:40 "What does SAW have to do with it????"

3:48 "That was for HOS sorry sent to wrong person"

Huh. I guess I'm off the hook for not remembering anything about a saw. So much for giving Farmer H credit for telling me when he was leaving. He wasn't even talking to ME! I guess I'll ask him if HOS is cooking his supper these days, so needs to be kept aware of his ETA.

A Fangirling Interlude

As I near the 33.3 percent milestone of my 36-visit (shh...35) leg therapy journey, I must pause to sing the praises of my OT. She really knows her stuff. While inconvenient to drive 45 minutes one-way three times a week, the appointments themselves are not unpleasant. That's a rousing endorsement from Mrs. HM. Or maybe I'm succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome...

Anyhoo... OT was pleased with the progress she observed on Friday. Looking at the inner part of my right knee, she moved the skin around and exclaimed,

"Look how soft and wrinkly it is!"

"Uh. Yes. It really is... My son would say, 'You elderlies, with your papery-thin skin!'"

"Oh. I don't want you to take that the wrong way. In the lymphedema world, 'soft and wrinkly' is GREAT! That's what we look for! I have to remember when I tell people that. I don't want them think I'm insulting them, or making fun. It's just what we like to see. What we're working for. One lady even had wrinkly TOES! Oh, look. YOU also have wrinkles in your toes."

"I see that now. I didn't think you were making fun. It's nice to see that progress."

"Some of that loose wrinkly-ness will go away, the longer it goes."

"Well. Not a lot, because I AM old, and my skin isn't so elastic anymore."

"I have one guy, he's in his 90s--"

"Oh, so he has a couple years on me, heh, heh!"

"Yeah. His daughter brings him in. He's on some kind of blood-thinner. I have to be really careful of his skin. And another guy who bleeds if you just look at him wrong. Like, he can just take off his pants and there's a fresh cut bleeding. I say, 'How do you DO that?' So I have to be aware of each person and how their skin reacts."

Indeed. I, myself, had some weird wound on my left leg on Wednesday. Took the support stocking off, and OT said, "WHAT am I going to do with you? There's some kind of sore on your leg!"

She held the mirror because I couldn't see it. WOW! It was about the size of a half-dollar, all white and gooey. I was worried that was PUS, but OT didn't think so. She swiped at it with a paper towel, and it rubbed off. "I think it's just wet skin. Maybe that area wasn't all the way dry when you put your sock back on after showering."

My thought was that I had a little nick there that was oozing, and being trapped in a support stocking and the rubbery velcro wraps made it all gooshy in that area, like when you have a bandaid that gets wet, and turns the skin soft and white. OT had put a non-stick gauze pad in there Wednesday, and on this day, there was just a tiny circle of fluid soaked in. So we're just waiting for that to close up. No infection, nothing to worry about.

That's the thing. OT is really good with people skills. I have a toenail that wants to fall off, and she said,

"It's not a big deal. I had one lady who had THREE toenails pop off as I was taking off her socks! I told her, 'Um. Did you not feel that? That's not normal. You might want to keep an eye on that.' She didn't really seem concerned."

I hope other clients are enjoying such stories about ME, heh, heh! Just saying, OT has a way of putting people at ease, like whatever is going on with you is not the most horrific thing she's ever seen!

Knee-CROW-Sis

I am 10 visits into my leg therapy, according to my OT. Of course, she is counting the missed appointment when she was out sick, but I'm not going to correct her. By the calendar, I am 1/3 finished with treatment, although by appointments, that would come at #13, which will be this upcoming Friday.

This therapy is helping more than I imagined possible. OT really knows her stuff. I wish that I hadn't been allowed to "fall through the cracks," as she says, since during my history-taking, she pointed out signs that doctors should have caught and referred me. Then again, you have been enlightened on how hard it was to actually GET these appointments once I WAS finally referred.

Friday was my second "measuring day," when OT marks my bare legs with a purple marker, then checks circumferences with a metal retractable metric measuring tape. She DID translate one measurement into inches for me, and that's what I'm here to crow about. 

I lost 4 INCHES in my right knee! First of all, let's consider that nothing was done to my knees until LAST FRIDAY. That's the day Farmer H came to carry in the awkward box of wraps for me. The first day that OT trimmed and fitted the velcro wraps that are now used on my lower legs instead of the elastic wraps, and also on each knee. So technically, in just a week, Friday to Friday, my right knee decreased in circumference by 4 inches!

That's a plus, because even though it has not lessened any pain from my bone-on-bone arthritis, it must surely be helping the circulation in that leg. Which is what the orthopedic surgeon was concerned with. I take it as a good sign, anyway. Even though I'm not totally sold on knee replacement surgery, it will be nice to have that option if the surgeon thinks it's possible after re-evaluation in several months.

A Decent Grilling

The Pony came out for Memorial Day, and Farmer H grilled bratwursts, chicken, and pork steaks. I wish I could report that it was a delicious feast, but I cannot!

That is Farmer H's tray, in case you couldn't figure it out from his meaty paw grasping a BBQ chicken breast as if he'd never heard of a KNIFE and fork. He also has slaw, stuffing, a bratwurst, onion rings, potatoes/onions, and white cheddar mac and cheese.

This is The Pony's tray. With a slight view of the "Mexican Coke" as the beverage of choice. The Pony says this version of Coke is better, because I think it is sweetened with real sugar, and not corn syrup. I don't know for sure. Never tried it. And I thought the recipe was secret.

There's my tray. And my salad peeking out in the background. Which deserves a picture.

Isn't that a beautiful salad? I went for a raspberry vinaigrette dressing. So made my salad with romaine, onions, tomato, and grated Muenster. Gotta say, it was not as tasty as I had hoped. The cheese was too mild, or not enough. I didn't finish it. This salad seemed too salad-y. I prefer a boiled egg and sharp cheddar, but I didn't think that would go well with the raspberry vinaigrette. 

The lack of deliciousness of our feast was no fault of anybody. Unless it's ME! Which of course I will not admit to. I'm not taking the fall! The bratwursts were not well-liked. I got them at the Sis-Town Save A Lot, because our Hillmomba Save A Lot often runs out of brats, and has only the sausage patties. The only variety I had to choose from were cheddar, and BBQ cheddar. Both were surprisingly tasteless! None of us finished our brats!

The potatoes would have been better if I'd used russets instead of goldens. The goldens don't like to crisp up. I thought the mac and cheese was tasteless. It came from a box, with an herb packet, and The Pony and Farmer H enjoyed it well enough. I imagine the boxed stuffing was just fine, but I didn't have any. The onion rings were crispy enough, but it was like a tempura batter. I prefer more of a cornmeal batter.

Anyhoo... the chicken and the pork steaks were WONDERFUL! I didn't get a picture until later, and keep in mind they are cold, right out of FRIG II before I warmed them for future suppers.

The chicken was the boneless skinless breasts that come frozen in a bag. Farmer H did a fantastic job of grilling them. Juicy, but completely done in the middle. I had thawed them the day before cooking.

The pork steaks were also great. Farmer H knows his way around GassyG Jr. I will say that he skimped on the sauce this time. I like my pork steak coated with sauce, and grilled until it's a bit charred on the edges. Still, I just added sauce before warming in the oven, and it came out great. Of course I cut mine in half for two meals, but Farmer H eats a whole pork steak, with sides.

As usual, I forgot about the desserts. That happens when I don't eat them, heh, heh! It was cupcakes, both chocolate and vanilla, and some cookies that look like flat brownies with white icing. The Pony took half home, and Farmer H is still working his way through the rest.

I will adjust my potato choice next time, having only gotten the goldens because that's what The Pony likes. They don't work for everything. Farmer H will eventually eat up the onion rings, but I won't buy that version again. And I will go back to buying my bratwursts at the Hillmomba Save A Lot.

Still, it was a nice grilling, and nobody was left hungry.

It's Rainin', Men!

Last week I came out of 10Box as it started sprinkling. I knew there was rain coming, but I thought I might miss it. I DID! Mostly. I climbed into T-Hoe, hearing a weird noise. It was a steady sound. Like something hard hitting something hard.

"Oh," I thought. "I guess maybe there's some hail. Or just hard raindrops. Must be hitting those garden things over there." 

10Box had angered me of late, having a big display of plants sitting on metal racks, taking up FOUR parking spaces in front of the building. That meant the lazy ne'er-do-wells took advantage of my rightful handicap spaces. More than usual. Most had been sold, and the parking spaces opened up again. But a few racks remained on the sidewalk.

Anyhoo... I looked over that way, to see if hail was falling. I didn't see any. Just a few raindrops plinking onto T-Hoe's windshield. THEN a movement caught my eye! The reason for that sound:

ROOF MEN! Over on top of the mini-mall building that has my pharmacy at the far end, then a Chinese restaurant, then what used to be the urgent care clinic. Huh. I figured they must be putting up that sign. I thought it was there before, but maybe not. I think it's for the Chinese restaurant. That sure was a lot of men to put up a sign. I don't think they were taking it down, because of the noise. Which was more like hammering than prying.

All this time, I've thought those men were working on the sign. Until I tried to zoom in on my second picture:

That looks like some loose shingles there on the end. Maybe they were tearing out old shingles, and putting down new ones. That makes more sense than fiddling with a sign. 

I hope they didn't get too wet. The rain slacked off as I left town.