The Beginnings Of Normalcy Appear At The Mansion

We're coming up on three weeks from Farmer H's back surgery. Every day he's a little bit better. He still comes home early from his Storage Unit Store, but it has been cold, and that affects business, as well as his physical comfort. Saturday was 31 degrees, with a windchill of 21. The wind was brutal. I hate wind!

Farmer H was in his recliner from 12:45 to when I left home at 3:30. He knew I was going to the store, since I had consulted him on any treats he wanted, and told him the meal plan for the week. I also told him I'd be back around 5:00, with his supper of Country Mart deli chicken dinner.

Anyhoo... when I got home, there was no sign of help coming from within the Mansion. Last time I did the shopping, Farmer H came out to help. I made sure he only carried the lightweight bags, and not the heavy items like bananas or onions or canned goods. I really could have used him this time, for nothing else than guarding the meat!

Here's the thing. I carry bags from T-Hoe's rear to the side porch. As space is available, I set the bags on a chair there, and go back for more. When it's all on the porch, I climb the steps, and begin transferring it to the kitchen. I do not take each load up the steps and inside, as Farmer H is wont to do.

Anyhoo... the dogs have not bothered the groceries before, mainly because I don't give them the opportunity. My little Jack is not one to grab stuff. I don't trust Copper Jack, but my Jack won't let him on the porch while I'm on the move. My Sweet, Sweet Juno has lost her once-loyal mind! I do not trust her these days. She has several times put her nose on my water bottle spout while it was in my hand! And also when I set it on the chair by my purse while going down the steps. She never did this before. I don't like the idea of her having access to my meats!

This time, I had a giant tray of pork steaks. A bag of boneless skinless chicken thighs. And two deli chicken dinners in styrofoam containers. So... I could leave the meats in the back of T-Hoe, and rely on Copper Jack not jumping up to grab them, while I carried the rest of the groceries to leave on the porch. Or I could take the meats first to the porch, and pile a couple other items on top, hoping the crinkling of the bags in the wind would keep the dogs at bay.

I elected to carry the chicken dinners to the front seat of T-Hoe, to wait (car door closed) with my purse and water bottle, while I carried the non-meat items to the porch chair. Then I went back and got the meats to put on the chair, where I could see them while getting the chicken dinners and purse/water from T-Hoe.

Once up the steps, I grabbed the meats to take with me. As I was hauling that first load to the kitchen, I (might have sarcastically) said, "Don't worry. I've got it."

Farmer H called from the recliner: "Are you talking to me or the dogs?"

"It doesn't matter, since NEITHER OF YOU ARE HELPING ME!"

Then I went back to get the rest of the stuff. When I came in, I carried it, too, to the cutting block, then gave the dogs a treat of stale hot dog bun. Farmer H still made no move to help. Which I noted. Verbally. 

Farmer H got up and came to the kitchen, saying all I needed to do was tell him that I needed help.

"I did!"

"All I heard you say was that neither me or the dogs was helping you."

"Yeah. Which would imply that I needed help."

"I hollered to ask if you needed help, and you didn't answer me."

"I must have been out on the porch, getting the rest of the stuff without help."

"Whatever." Said Farmer H as he returned to the recliner, leaving seven bags of groceries sitting on the cutting block and kitchen counters.

Apparently, it's worth it for him to get up and walk to the kitchen and complain about helping, but not worth it to put away a few items while he's there.