Do Unto Others

This weather is strange. Never before have I noted to myself that the grass needs to be cut, while watching snow cover it. But that is exactly what I did yesterday.

The good thing about the snow falling was that it made for a slow day in the office. I hit the ground running as soon as we returned from our sad trip and hadn't really had the time to rest. It was good to be busy. I didn't have time to think deep thoughts.

Yesterday was a relax and take inventory day and I was fine until I decided to watch some TV. I DVR stuff to watch without commercial interruption. I chose Grey's Anatomy. It was all about Covid and ventilators and all I could think about was my sister on a ventilator. I should have stuck with a sitcom.

Just after I had showered and dried my unruly hair yesterday I heard the bell ring for the office door. I went out to see a young man on my porch. He was not attired for the weather. Bare feet in slide on sandals, just a hoodie for a coat, no gloves to protect his hands. He had a phone with a black screen and asked if he could use my phone to call someone to pick him up. He was shaking with cold as I handed him the phone. I could not help but hear his end of the conversation. He had WALKED here from a hospital in Columbia, at least 40 miles from here. From what he told me and I heard, his mother was supposed to have picked him up upon his release and didn't show for whatever reason. I excused myself and went in my house and grabbed a pair of socks and a mask for him (not knowing why he was in the hospital) so that he could come inside and out of the snow and wind.

His bare toes were making me cold. HeWho can be a hero, listened to the story and volunteered to drive him the additional 23 miles home. I told the young man that he had a ride home, as he was begging someone to come get him. Then I rustled up a cup of hot chocolate for him, to quickly warm him up. He was very grateful with tears in his eyes as they left.

Then my mind took over and I texted my friend to say that I hoped I had not just sealed my husband in his truck with a mass murderer. I wondered aloud to myself about the license tag number on our truck in case I might need to alert the constabulary if HeWho did not return in a reasonable amount of time. You know the old adage about a good deed never going unpunished.

He returned unscathed and I decided it was a doing unto others act, instead. Today, the sun is shining and while it is still cold outside, I have plenty to get done inside. Ten loads of laundry already out of the way from the trip, there is still the everyday stuff to get washed and dried and folded. Along with some worn signs from the park waiting to be lettered and painted to be re-hung.

Bo has decided that my body is his jungle gym when ever he finds me sitting here. He will march back and forth on my shoulders and lean in on either side to tickle my face with his whiskers as he watches me type. That is distracting enough, but he just gave my eyeball a lick and I must say it was most unwelcome!

 

SNOW?

 Cujo here. Today is very strange! Just yesterday us dogs played outside all day long in our yard. Mom had just mowed it the day before after our big trip (more about that later). 

We were a little bit mad at her for mowing it down. We were pretending we were in the jungle. The grass was tall enough for Eddie and I to hide in. Our legs are short and it was easy to escape from Bo. I believe I have mentioned how annoying he can be. Tony Louise is too tall to take advantage of the tall grass, so she just barks at everything. Everything.

But, Mom mowed it down after she collected all of our poop in a bag. I still don't know what she does with it. It remains a mystery for me to solve. Later. This morning we all ran to the back door and waited for Mom to open it. We heard Martha, the boy cat, meowing very loud on the other side of the door. As soon as Mom opened it he raced past us dogs to get inside, as we raced outside.

It was cold! It was SNOWING!! This is so wrong. Why is it snowing? It is not supposed to snow once Mom starts mowing our yard and the camping season starts. Big fluffy flakes keep falling from the sky. No birds are sitting in the tree branches chirping! Wrong, I tell you!

About the trip ... It was not fun. My Aunt Sisty was very sick and she passed away. Eddie only met her one time, but I remember her vividly. Whenever she was with my Mom they laughed a lot and talked loud to be heard over each other. Mom was very sad and she cried a lot. Eddie and I did our best to stay very close to her and comfort her. Bo and Toni didn't seem to notice how sad she was.

Toni was constantly jumping over the gate Mom put between the couches and the driver's seat. She thinks she should always be with Dad. She kept trying to get under his feet. I have never driven myself, but Mom says this is dangerous. I, for one, object to danger while I am a passenger!

Bo did get sick the first day of the trip. Fortunately, Mom had made him ride in his kennel, so we weren't subjected to having him vomit on us! The second day he was much better. A good thing since Mom let him sit with us on the couch. 

Eddie and I like to snooze while we ride. Bo and Toni like to look out the windows. This meant that Bo would stand on us. This was mostly annoying and sometimes painful, depending on which body part he stood on. Extremely annoying. Toni would leap from couch to couch and that was equally annoying.

We got to sniff lots of smells when we stopped. At one campground we stayed at I found the smell of rabbits. These smells were fresh! I had my nose to the ground and was all set to hunt this rabbit down and eat a good dinner. Mom would not let go of my leash no matter how hard I pulled, and I pulled hard. I have a taste for rabbit. I have never killed one, but Martha, the boy cat, is generous with his kills and has brought fresh rabbit to me quite often. I have to eat the tasty morsels in secret, Mom is opposed to my consumption of freshly slaughtered animals. I have heard her say that she raised a murderer, referring to Martha, the boy cat.

The trip took a long time and it felt like we had been away for a year when we got home. We met more relatives on the way back. As you know, I am not a fan of men or children. I try, I really do, but I can't seem to help myself. We played in a yard and Mom had warned me to be nice, that a little boy was coming over. His name is Hollis and I bit him. They say confession is good for the soul, but I do not think it is. I don't feel any better for having confessed. I was at Aunt Pam's house and my cousin Tara came over with her little boy, Hollis. I guess Tara must be my cousin. Mom said so. Her husband, Thomas mowed the grass while I was there. I thought about biting him, but he moved so fast it was hard to get a chance. Uncle Ronald and Dad sat on some outside chairs and both had their noses stuck in their phones. That is how I was able to bite Hollis, the men were not paying attention.

Mom apologized and told Hollis that I was going to be punished. She actually slapped my hind end! Mom is never afraid of being bit by me. I admit that I have considered it, but she bites back! Good thing I no longer have my front teeth, it could have been worse. Mom was still angry and she shunned me for the rest of the evening for my bad behavior.

I am happy to be home, even if it is snowing!

GRASSHOPPER NOT RELIABLE!!

 I suppose the longer you live, the more grief will come your way. Can't be helped. Now that I seem to have buried my original family and I am the only one left, I won't be subjected to that particular hurt again. Not that I don't love my in-law family and my dearest friends and it goes without saying, my own children and all the families they have brought into my life. There is something quite unique about those people who knew you from babyhood on.

I keep waiting for the phone to ring and to hear her voice on the other end telling me things she would never tell anyone else. I did the same, knowing my secrets were safe with her. She knew my most humiliating secrets that I would never want anyone to know, every dark chapter of my life. I knew hers as well and will not be sharing them.

Everyone has been in and out offering condolences as I have tried to keep myself involved in busy work. The day seems to drag on and on and I find myself counting the hours left. I would be just as miserable if the store was closed, so I might as well be miserable here. I am waiting for that day when I don't think about her every minute. 

In the meantime life goes on and things still happen. You may or may not remember me having a rant or two about our Grasshopper zero turn that cost $17,000. I have words about the mower every year and I think we have invested at least another $15,000 into the machine. It is a lemon if ever there was one, but Grasshopper doesn't seem to care that I can work their lack of service into every conversation I have. It is a special talent of mine that I shared with my sister. Every time the mower needs attention, it has to be loaded up and hauled 23 miles to the dealer, who may or may not provide us with a loaner, then we have to go get it after they say it has been fixed and is running great. The running great part is not always true.

My husband is a very patient man, he is after all married to me. I, on the other hand expect to get what I pay for. Promises were made that were not kept. He was led to buy this particular mower because of it's reliability. It has been in the shop equally as much as it has been cutting the 17 acres of grass. We mow every third day weather permitting and the dealer was made aware of our needs. 

At the end of the mowing season last year, the clutch was replaced. At the beginning of this year's mowing, just guess what no longer works? If you guessed clutch, you are right. A couple of years ago when the Grasshopper was down after just being repaired I happened to be in earshot when arrangements were being made for it to go back. I doubt anyone would ever describe me as shy and I demanded that they deliver a loaner and pick up ours. They did and the Grasshopper rep just happened along for the ride. 

I asked the man who seemed to be quite eager to tell me he represented Grasshopper if he had ever heard of someone buying a vehicle that turned out to be a lemon. Of course he had. We all have. During mass production it is bound to happen. Usually the car dealer, along with the manufacturer will realize this and make it right. If I have someone here and something goes wrong on our end, I will compensate my customer. Always looking for return business, it is the smart thing to do.

I told the man that our mower was a lemon and that if he had any integrity he would make it right. I did not expect a brand new mower, but a good trade in on a similar model. I am not greedy or looking for something free. I just expect a product to do what I am told it is capable of. He didn't agree with me and I have been relating my story to anyone remotely interested. I am hard to ignore.

Today, we purchased a new zero turn. NOT A GRASSHOPPER. We will never purchase another. We have been at the mercy of friends loaning theirs to us and we need a mower almost every day when the grass is growing as fast as it is right now. I have used the push mower before and helped get the big fields done with just a rider, but I no longer have the stamina to do that.

End of rant. I am certain my sister would applaud me and I would give anything to hear her just one more time. Life may go on, but she is missed.

A Tribute To My Sister

I am on the last day of my trip home, taking our time to stop frequently and rest. The trip to Georgia was fraught with calamity and I am sure that one day I will be able to laugh about it. Maybe. I am still raw right now. While HeWho drives, Siri must navigate, I am just not up to it. 

I have tried to sleep, read, play games on my phone, but find myself unable to concentrate. Left on my own with only four legged friends to talk to, I find myself crying on and off. My eyes feel like a butt with diaper rash. I see her as I last saw her when I close my eyes. She looked not at all like herself, making it even harder to believe she is gone. Her face looked bruised. I have no other words to describe it. It makes my heart hurt.

My Daddy looked peaceful. He was peaceful, by all accounts. since I didn't make it in time to him either. I can't blame that on HeWho was driving this time, I was at the wheel when I was racing to Georgia last time. 

I did something I never want to do again. I delivered a tribute at the service. I will write them all day long, but, this was hard to do. I kept thinking that I could hold myself together, if I could just stay mad at her for not getting vaccinated. All I had to do was read what I wrote. I told HeWho was sitting right there in the front row to do something stupid if I started to lose my composure and make me mad. Words seem to fly off my tongue when I am all riled up. He sat there, just watching me. That alone should have done the trick, but it didn't.

I managed to ad lib my way through it, as I did not wear my glasses. I was afraid they would fog up and make me look like Mr. Magoo. But, at least I didn't do the ugly cry where snot wants to run freely and you have sniff it up and in doing so, get the hiccups. I heard her voice in my ear all that morning, telling me how to put my makeup on and saying I could do this, it was just the words I had written, no biggie. She knew me better than anyone else. She knew me longer than anyone else, just like I knew her. All of her weaknesses and all of her strengths.

This is what I wrote:

Born August 15, 1951, Eva Paulette Schultze Courson. My sister, older by not quite two years. You all knew her as Paulette, to me she was Sisty. To my children, she was Aunt Sisty.

She will be mad that I am revealing her age. I can hear her saying, "You never ask a lady her age!" She did love being the very center of attention. Legend has it that she shoved my new born self into a trash bag, then instructed Daddy to take me out to the trashcan. Don't worry about me, I survived.

Some of my earliest memories revolve around strangers telling Mother how angelic and beautiful her little girl was. They were not referring to me. I cared not at all. I was content to be the background to her star. Not two peas in a pod, we neither looked nor thought alike. She cared very much about her image and how others viewed her. I never have.

Still sisters, though. She was allowed to tease and bully me, but you better watch out if you tried it! I was HER little sister and beware of my big sister if you messed with me.

We grew up and went our separate ways. I was always the homebody, while she loved to go ... anywhere. Ironic that I became the traveler while she stayed anchored here. I could always count on her to keep me sane, just a phone call away. I wanted to call her this morning to ask her what I should wear.

After Mother died and Daddy went to live in the veterans home in Mississippi, we would often coordinate our visits to him to see one another. Daddy's remarriage after five years of living lonely drove a wedge between us. I was forced to choose and I chose Daddy. I never wanted to choose, I wanted them both in my life.

We couldn't seem to bridge that gap even after Daddy was gone. We tried, but it was never the same. She was too hurt by my disloyalty to her, I now wish I had pushed harder, yelled louder and bullied my way back to her. You always think you have more time.

I almost chose not to wear makeup today. My sister would have been appalled if I did not have my best face on! She loved a big to-do with all the frills and dress up.

I told Joey to tell her that I loved her and that I was on my way. I like to think she did plan to wait for me. But, when she heard Prince Philip had died she just couldn't pass up the opportunity to hitch a ride with him to glory. I am okay with that. I am quite sure she is enjoying all the pomp and circumstance surrounding his passing and has decided it is for her, as well. She probably has convinced him that she needs a crown to wear!

I never told her this story and I wish now that I had. She visited the church we attended in Albany and I was directing my children's choir in a Christmas production. She was dressed to the nines, hat and all. She loved hats. She came backstage afterwards and one of the children asked me if she was a princess. I said the first thing that popped into my head. "No, honey, she is the Duchess of Pearson." At the time I thought I sounded mean, but she really was the Duchess of Pearson, wasn't she? I think she would have loved and taken on the new title! I am sure she would have started wearing a tiara!

Joey and Walter will never really know just how fiercely she loved them. Only another mother would truly understand. But the greatest joy in her life was Karagahn. Forget how upset she was at the prospect of becoming a grandmother. Saying she was far too young to bear that title. Already having the title of Gramma Kathy, I laughed at her. As enchanted as she was with my grandchildren, I knew better. She announced that she would not accept such names as Granny, Grand-maw, Mee-maw or even Grandmother. No, she decided that she was to be called GrandMa'ma. I laughed some more and told her she would be called whatever the child named her and that she would love it. She became GiGi, despite all efforts made to teach Karagahn her preferred name.

I was right, of course, but I am always right, just ask my grandchildren.

I wonder what she would have edited out besides her date of birth. I want to call her and ask her if this was okay, but I can't. Besides loving my nephews and her granddaughter, there is nothing I can ever do for her again and I am just so sad.   

COVID KILLS

 I am in Georgia. After three days we finally made it. Thank you all for your kind thoughts and prayers. My sister succumbed to COVID Friday afternoon as we were on the first leg of our trip. I was not surprised after listening to my nephew describe all that was being done and all that was happening.

Still, I was disappointed that I did not make it in time to tell her goodbye. We finally arrived here at her house and I kept expecting to see her come out the door saying, "Hello, my darling!". She didn't and now I am just sad and tired. The service will be Tuesday morning at 11 am. I should be pretty wrung out after that! In the meantime I feel much like Alice must have felt after falling down the rabbit hole.

Everything is surreal. After crossing the Georgia state line I have only seen one masked face. I am fully vaccinated, although I still have that two week period to fulfill to meet maximum immunity and I have a mask on!! Why? Because, even though my chin itches with irritation, and I hate wearing the thing, I am worth every precaution I take. If I ever doubted how lethal this virus is (I didn't), all I have to do is remember that this killed my sister.

I am too tired to jump up on my soap box right now, but I do feel a rant coming on! I need a nap and some dog kisses to rejuvenate. Then I will start my campaign to make my nephews listen to reason and get the vaccine. Anyone close by will also hear what I have to say about it. Like it or not.

You can all look forward to upcoming posts about this trip. So much blog material, it will take days to organize my thoughts. HeWho will have his ongoing starring role as I recount all our adventures, so, stay tuned!

Destiny

 As I sit here in the wee hours, unable to sleep, I am remembering. Where does all the time go? I find myself day dreaming more as I grow ever older. A flash of a memory will capture my attention, most often just a whisper in my ear that will bring a smile to my heart. Sometimes lingering awhile, it might follow me through my day. 

Night dreams are more intense. They can ruin my day, the memory of an unsettling dream. Other times I will wake with intense joy to be alive as happy memories flood my waking hours. It is good to remember both the good and the bad, I suppose. You wouldn't have one without the other. I wonder if this is where all those mantras we give each other come from. You know the ones I mean. When one door closes, another opens. If it was meant to be, it was meant to be. Don't cry over spilt milk.

Days go on and life happens all around us. We have good days and we have bad days. We grumble and complain about all the little irritants life presents more often than we express gratitude for all the good life offers. We find it easier to complain than be thankful.

For the past several days I have been annoyed. Every little irritant magnified beyond what it should be. Maybe it is the constant headache I am besieged with, along with all my aches and pains that come with growing old. Just as many reasons for a smile come my way and I strive to be more aware of those. 

The feeling of satisfaction upon completing a task goes along with sore muscles. The soft fur of my dogs' ears as I pet them. The limp, sleeping puppy on my lap. The same puppy that just peed on my floor. The sweet smell of freshly laundered sheets blowing on the line in the sunshine. Bounce will never reproduce that particular smell. The same sheets I had to remove from the bed after I heaved the fat cat to the floor. Ying and yang, some might say.

Life and death. Happens every single day. You go along assuming it won't touch you, forgetting that it is destiny. You hear about the deaths of friends loved ones and you momentarily feel a pang of grief for their loss. If you know them well, the grief will be yours as well. No matter if you are expecting it, it is always a shock. 

My very first playmate in life  would seem to be approaching her date with destiny. I was blissfully unaware of this until this morning. I had no idea she was even sick. My sister will become another statistic of COVID. Either way, she will be counted among the victims. If she responds and wakes, or if she doesn't, still a number to add to the ever growing list of those affected by COVID.

I will delay my trip south to get my second dose of the vaccine tomorrow, then load the RV while HeWho attends to an electrical issue in the park. This is not the trip I wanted to take. But, take it I must. 

We had different views, my sister and I. We grew apart and became "polite" with each other, not able to find common ground. But when all is said and done, she was my sister. My one and only sibling. I would love nothing more than to have a big noisy argument with her right now. I keep hoping my phone will ring and my nephew will tell me her status has improved. I will still go, as she would come to me. I prefer to argue face to face, you know.

Knowing there is absolutely nothing I can do, other than pray is humbling. I don't know what to ask for, I don't know what she wants. We never talked about it, what she would prefer in her currant situation. I feel helpless and incredibly sad. My mother died suddenly, out of the blue, totally unexpected. My dad wasted slowly away and it still hit with the same intensity. You would think we would have talked about our own deaths more, but we didn't.

My first friend, my protector, my antagonist, my cheer leader and at times my enemy. My sister that I love for all her goodness and all her flaws, just like she loved me. I am just so very sad.

Teetering Close to the Edge!

 If I thought yesterday was bad .... this day is shaping up to rival it. Barely caffeinated this morning, just two sips in and the phone started up like it was in a race. Very first call was about a power outage on a site. I could have suggested a few remedies, but I woke HeWho fancies himself to be more knowing about such intricate doings. Actually, he is, but I was begrudging his peaceful sleep that had already exceeded mine by a few hours. The Excedrin had done it's job for my headache and just as I had known it would, it also denied me the ability to fall asleep.

I gulped the remainder of the first cup and refilled it. I NEED it. Several calls later finds me here pecking away at my story. During my foray gathering merchandise yesterday, I might have mentioned the phone, ever at my ear. 

Apparently one call was from a traveler looking for a one night stay for tonight. I told him reservations would not be necessary, to just show up and I would take care of him. I don't remember if he shared his identity with me, as another call was coming through and I promptly forgot the call. The ones requiring more attention were put on my call back list. This morning he must have had second thoughts and decided to have his wife call to let me know they were on the road .... using her first name to identify herself she relayed the information. I must have sounded vague because she then went on to give a replay of my conversation with her husband. I still don't remember the circumstance surrounding their need for a site, just knew I could accommodate them.

Good thing I can multi-task, even with a headache. The same headache is lurking in the shadows of my mind as my day moves forward. There is, indeed, an electrical mystery on the site from this morning. HeWho was dispatched discovered this and decided to move a very small 30 amp camper to another site. He was ready to head to the bank with a deposit when I heard him talking to someone in the store. We do not open until noon and it was not noon.

This is the explanation. "Yeah, I moved 3 to 30, I need to work on 3." I stared at the clueless man I chose to marry (my own fault?). "Why did you choose 30?" I ask. "Because it works" he said. Of all the empty sites in the park, that I am relatively sure have working electricity, he chose 30. 30 is my go-to site for big rigs. It is a easy in, easy out and can accommodate up to 75'. I would NEVER put a 24' camper there. Same site he would assign to EVERY reservation he took, sometimes doubling and tripling up on it and leaving me to fix it. This is why he is forbidden to assign sites. FORBIDDEN.

I had assumed he did it on purpose to eliminate himself from having to deal with reservations and check-ins. Now I know it is because he can't handle the THINKING involved in pairing the needs of a particular camper with a site. After all he had a deposit to make and that must have been weighing heavy on his mind. I know, I know, I have a mean sarcastic streak that pops up when I am particularly frustrated. But why do I have to always be the problem solver?

In case you might be wondering about dementia ... I already had him checked for that. He is just, for lack of a better word, lazy. Or ... he could be trying to send me over the edge. It is working, if that is the case! Teetering ever closer to he edge of sanity here!

High Hopes

 I think it is finally Spring. And yet, I seem to have lost the spring in my step. Last year spoiled me! I had so much time to myself to garden and do all the things I like doing ....

It is after 7:00 and I am just now sitting down to eat. I have been on my feet all day and my right hip is screaming. I finally finished merchandising the store. Last year I didn't even bother to move things around. That means this year was extra dusty and I am pretty sure I have touched every surface in the store. 

That done, I set out on a mission to finish stocking the store. I was all set to just do my shopping on-line at Walmart and take advantage of free delivery. I carefully perused the web site and ordered a hefty amount of stuff to fill my empty shelves. With the exception of two items, they were out of stock or the items were no longer available. Are you kidding me, I said to my computer screen! You won't be surprised to know that I got no answer. I was not happy. I sent a lot of time compiling my order and it was not cheap! If the item is no longer available, then why, I ask you, is it still listed on the web site?

I sent a carefully worded email to the Walmart powers that be and made the same query. I really do not expect a reply and so far haven't gotten one. I went to Walmart today and can tell you that shopping in person wasn't much better. I did manage to spend nearly $300 and load it into my car with a raging headache.

Is it just me, or does everyone have to experience unruly children of parents who would appear to be oblivious? Add to that all the nearly empty shelves and the lack of a friendly, helpful associate that actually knew where anything was. I don't work there, but I am willing to bet I could help a customer find something better than the workers I asked for help.

They have either eliminated RV supplies or moved them to a secret location that no one knows about. It is Spring. People get antsy and want to camp in the Spring. I am out of drinking water hoses and none were available on-line, leading me to believe that they had all been distributed to the stores in anticipation of Spring sales. I was wrong. 

It seemed that every associate working today was either stocking shelves and could not or would not make themselves available for customer service ... or they were blocking customer traffic while gossiping about management. 

I encountered three groups of young children in the wild throws of temper tantrums. One was locked in a battle with the mother who was trying to disengage him from a pole he had wrapped his arms and legs around. He was far too old to be acting like a toddler and obviously stronger than his parent. My store phone was ringing every few minutes with reservation requests and wi-fi questions from people already staying in my establishment.

My head started hurting as I was checking out. A two step affair, involving my personal items and tax exempt items for the store. I make it clear to the check-out associate (Walmart's description, not mine) that I have two orders and one is tax exempt. This always seems to merit a deep annoyed sigh from the associate. I apologize profusely for making her life so hard and no, it is not sincere. My head is pounding and I have to remind her THREE times to charge me for all the merchandise on the bottom of my cart. I could have left without paying for it, but that would be wrong. I am creating my own karma .... She all but threw my eggs to me to get me out of her lane. I wished her a good day and took my time wheeling the cart away. I was not thinking good thoughts as I left the store and encountered another screaming child on my way out. 

I loaded the car, thinking that I needed a drink. Ice tea was what I was thinking, although an alcoholic beverage might have made me feel much better. I stopped at McDonalds and decided a small order of fries wouldn't hurt. I had a banana for breakfast, but it was long gone. Naturally I ended up behind a van chug full of people and it was almost 2:00, so I didn't think it would be that busy.

I was wrong about that and by the time I realized it I was stuck between vehicles and could not escape. I ordered my half cut tea as I always do and was annoyed as I took my first sip of syrupy beverage. Too sweet, way too sweet. If they were going to forget to put one component in, I would have rather had them leave off the sweet and do all unsweet. The fries were cold and unappealing and far too expensive to toss, so I ate them as I made my way home.

I must admit that my head was easing off and I began to feel better ... until the last 10 miles of my trip when two cars seem to have appointed themselves speed monitors and drove side by side at 55 mph on a 70 mph interstate. During the ride, the store phone kept ringing and I had to tell them I would call them back.

Finally home, unloaded all the stuff in my car and put most everything in it's proper place and made all the call backs. I thought I would go outside in the nice sunshine and lose myself in a garden after I spoon fed the canines who were not so patiently awaiting my attention.

That didn't work out too well, either. I just took reservation #15 and it is now after 8:00. My headache returned with a vengeance and I had to resort to Excedrin, knowing the caffeine will prevent a good night's rest. I am thinking tomorrow would be a good day to train someone else to man this phone and I will go hide in a garden. I have high hopes!