A cool wind blew my way. Lightning split the sky, and water fell to the ground!!! It rained! We slept with window open last night. I could smell the clean smell of rain meeting dry dirt. I thought I would sleep through the night.
I didn't. I continue to itch. When the itching subsides, after the application of Benadryl, my mind decides to entertain me with thoughts of doom and gloom. The night becomes a vicious cycle. I awake to itching, slather on the Benadryl gel, then lay there willing my mind to shut down.
I dragged my unwilling self from the bed this morning to take the canines I love out for a potty break. I was careful to look at my surrounding through half-open eyes to hang on to a thread of sleep, hoping to crawl back into the bed. We did and I dozed for a bit before getting up to start the day. This has been going on for weeks. Making me somewhat less than pleasant to be around.
The current outbreak of this insidious ailment is on my eyelids and neck. My torso has calmed down from the outbreak last week. He who loves me asked if I was absolutely certain I had not come into contact with any poison vines .......... I am quite certain that I did not come into direct or even indirect contact, as the outbreak was under my foundation garments. He does try to help, but that question was just annoying. Like I ran naked through some poison ivy and maybe rolled around in it.
I am sleep deprived, tired, irritable and just plain cranky. Not at all nice to be around. He who obtained hearing aids can now hear me mutter to myself about my lot in life.
Green To Clean finally sent the replacement chemicals for the miracle it says it will perform on our green pool. We bought more chlorine and shock and have been diligently back washing and vacuuming the pool bottom, but it is still green. I am not optimistic.
So, you may be asking yourself why I am sharing my misery with you. I have no idea. Misery loves company?
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Friday, August 3, 2012
Caller ID
"Hello, Kan-Do Kampground, how can I help you?"
Caller: "Where are you at?" I am so tempted to say I am at work, where are you? Instead I give driving instructions. Then she asks what time my pool closes. I explain the status of my green pool and tell her that the pool would normally be open until 7.
She calls back and asks if I have any camp spots for the weekend. I tell her that I do and she tells me that she will be here in an hour. I say okay. She hangs up.
And again, she calls to ask about the pool. Same person. Same number on caller ID. Once again I explain the status of my sick and crippled pool. She then wants to know if I know about any other pools. I refer her to my competition. "Do you know the number?" Actually, I do. But I am busy with a customer who is in front of me trying to give me money, so I tell her to look it up. After all, she found my number ......... three times.
It is now 7:00. Even if the pool were not green, it is closed. A goofy looking man comes in with a ball cap on sideways. "We are here to swim!" I tell him that the pool is closed and that it has algae in it. He stares at me in disbelief. "What?" he says.
I look back at him and wonder about his drug usage. He has all his teeth, but maybe he is using something other than meth. He is clearly lacking in the brain cell department. I simply repeat that the pool is closed.
"Huh, well, do we at least get free sodas for driving all this way?" I laugh at him and am about to ask which drug he is on when I hear a familiar voice telling him that they are in the "wrong place". It is my phone caller.
Perhaps these could be the people who picked my flowers to put in my skimmer baskets ....... or relatives of the perpetrator of pool misdeeds?
Caller: "Where are you at?" I am so tempted to say I am at work, where are you? Instead I give driving instructions. Then she asks what time my pool closes. I explain the status of my green pool and tell her that the pool would normally be open until 7.
She calls back and asks if I have any camp spots for the weekend. I tell her that I do and she tells me that she will be here in an hour. I say okay. She hangs up.
And again, she calls to ask about the pool. Same person. Same number on caller ID. Once again I explain the status of my sick and crippled pool. She then wants to know if I know about any other pools. I refer her to my competition. "Do you know the number?" Actually, I do. But I am busy with a customer who is in front of me trying to give me money, so I tell her to look it up. After all, she found my number ......... three times.
It is now 7:00. Even if the pool were not green, it is closed. A goofy looking man comes in with a ball cap on sideways. "We are here to swim!" I tell him that the pool is closed and that it has algae in it. He stares at me in disbelief. "What?" he says.
I look back at him and wonder about his drug usage. He has all his teeth, but maybe he is using something other than meth. He is clearly lacking in the brain cell department. I simply repeat that the pool is closed.
"Huh, well, do we at least get free sodas for driving all this way?" I laugh at him and am about to ask which drug he is on when I hear a familiar voice telling him that they are in the "wrong place". It is my phone caller.
Perhaps these could be the people who picked my flowers to put in my skimmer baskets ....... or relatives of the perpetrator of pool misdeeds?
Thursday, August 2, 2012
"They Never Draw Blood"
The drought has not claimed everything. This sweet potato vine is from last year. It survived the winter and has grown, and grown. This is one plant. My secret? This is where I dump the mop bucket. I know I could pour that dirty water down the drain. Oscar, my resident old man of 12 pretty much refuses to go outside without me standing watch. I try to go in and take them out every few hours ........
"Come on, Oscar, lets go pee-pee." I try to entice him to the back door with promises of treats and toys and my presence. The other two will line up dutifully and follow me to the back door. Wall-E will sometimes balk at the heat and look up as if to say, "That's okay, Gramma, I can hold it til next trip." Oscar looks up from his throne (Emmy's old bed with both her pillow and his on top) and says, "No, I'm good. That puddle you just mopped up? Mine." And so, this is what I feed this plant. Water, bleach, Lysol ..... and dog pee.
My pictures are crooked, something has gone awry in the land of Kathy's blog. The morning glory feeds on the same diet as the sweet potato vine. Perhaps I have made a monumental gardening discovery! Who knew dog pee was good for plants? Just ornamental ones, not edible ones ..... I have standards!
What I was trying to get a shot of , was the branch that is looped over the tree. The main branch that this one shoots off of goes to the left. The winds are crazy strong and the weight of the peaches is holding this one over the tree.
I started picking today. I have two buckets so far. I have eaten 4 peaches while picking. I call it taste testing. They are really good and sweet this year. Just not very big. The wind chimes have kept the birds at bay. There are still a lot on the tree that are rock hard. I have to feel each one. If it has a little "give" when you squeeze it, it is ready. If not, you wait. How do I know this? Taste testing .....
Speaking of taste and food ....... He who is unable to administer his own meds and has just a general idea of what he takes had an appointment today for his 6 month check-up and RX refills. The man had a heart attack 12 years ago. He takes three different things for his cholesterol. So, I always make his appointments for mornings ....... so that he is fasting upon arrival and they can draw blood. Besides that he never eats breakfast. Okay, maybe on occasion, but it is rare that he will eat upon awakening.
I woke him at 10, his appointment was for 11. I did not say NOT to eat, because he should already know that they will need blood. I went back out to my garden and peach tree. I was happily on task and saw him drive his truck towards me to tell me he was leaving (I have mentioned before that he never walks anywhere that he could drive to, no matter how short the distance). I look up from my bean picking to say goodbye and see that he is CHEWING FOOD.
Admittedly, I was not diplomatic when I screeched "You are eating, you know they will need blood, WHY ARE YOU EATING!". Actually I was only exasperated at that point. I did not get MAD until he looked all innocent and informed me that "they never draw blood". "OH SWEET LORD! Of course they do! How else to measure the efficiency of the drugs you take, What is wrong with you?"
We have been going to this clinic for over two years now. They always draw blood when you go in and are out of prescriptions. True, the last time he went was for a pulled muscle in his back and there was no needle involved. And this was only because I MADE him go after he went to a chiropractor and the "adjustment" made his back hurt worse than before. I had already diagnosed the problem as a pulled muscle and told the man the only cure was heat and ice and rest. And, guess what? I was right.
I must go take my blood pressure meds now, and my serotonin uptake before he who drives hither and thither comes home. I gave him strict instructions to bring the written prescriptions to me and not get them filled like he did last time and screw up my money saving efforts! Last time, when they drew his blood!
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
The Waiting Game
The evening sky looks bruised. I feel bruised from this endless heat. I can only work in the early morning and late evening and the heat is still oppressive then, just without the sun burning down.
The second round of peaches is almost ripe. The poor tree is so heavy with fruit. Every day I go out and prop the limbs and press the fruit, and taste it. Any day now and it will be ready.
No pesticides for my trees. This year the main problem is the birds. I have wind chimes hanging in the tree. They are getting wise to them, so it is good that I will soon be picking.
I feel myself waiting. Waiting for the sun to go down. Waiting for the garden to yield it's bounty. Waiting for the pool to clear. Waiting for the rain to finally come.
I am tired of explaining to campers the necessity of being frugal with the water and that we can't allow camp fires. I suppose they feel like they paid for the camping experience and they will have have it, no matter the risk involved.
The DNR (department of natural resources) called with a survey today about consumption of water and contingency plans should our well be depleted. What a cheery thought. He told me that some wells in a nearby county had already gone. Fire departments are trucking water to these areas. Well, they were until they realized that the water was being used to water lawns and top off pools. What is wrong with these people?
My contingency plan? I have 60,000 gallons of water in a pool that I could filter and use. Of course, no one wants to stay here in this heat without a pool ........ But, life goes on and I waited for the sun to hide before I ventured out to clean the rest rooms. A surprise waited for me.
I was changing the trash can liner and happened to look up to the ceiling. Most of my surprises are closer to the floor. At first glance I didn't know what it was. Too big to be a spider and I was without my glasses. I could not bring myself to lean down and grab the trash can, though ......
So, I went inside and grabbed my camera. I zoomed in and saw EARS! It had ears!!!!
Do you see the tiny little feet on the ceiling and the ears down low. It is hanging upside down! A bat in the bathroom. I can honestly say I have never encountered this before. He who is in charge of all things scary or gross was sweeping the bottom of the pool. I waved to him and tried to wave him over. He just gave a little wave back, you know, like "hi". Apparently my frantic mime act was not working.
So, I did what he would do if he was unable to catch my attention. I called him on his cell. Just as he answered a nice lady camper was about to enter the restroom to shower. I wasn't going to let her and was trying to think of a creative way to discourage her from going in. Nothing came to mind, so I just said, "You don't want to go in there right now." She looked at me and asked why and I just told her there was a bat on the ceiling over the toilet. She asked what I was going to do as he, who is my hero, came up and I told her we would send him in.
She told me to hold my hair, that she had a friend that had a bat land in her hair and pull it out. It was a good thing that he who was on task has no hair! He took off his hat and used it to scoop the bat down and it flew out the door RIGHT TOWARDS ME! I did what every self respecting delicate lady of a certain age would do ....... I screamed and wet my pants.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Breaking In
The internet has not been my friend for the past few days! Took me 3 hours to download the pictures and by then I was so frustrated I had forgotten what I wanted to write! Didn't matter anyway, since I kept losing my connection. So here it is, a disjointed blog post! I was able to read blogs, but not to post a comment. I felt like I had been cut off from the world!!
Black-eyed suzies bobbing in the wind, face up looking for that rain.
My lone sunflower. Guess he is too tall to be picked by flower thieves.
This is what the grassy fields are looking like these days. The little rain we had on my birthday was not nearly enough.
Kind of scary looking down there! I put a hose in one of these holes for about five minutes and the water never came up to the surface!
In case you are wondering ..... he who loves his wife gave her a new office chair for her birthday! I mean, he did break my old one, after all. Like the driver's seat in my car, he always has to mess with the setting of the chair and I had it just the way I wanted it. Not too high, not too low. I could tip it back just so and catch 20 winks and those entering were none the wiser.
In his readjusting he broke the hydraulic thingy that will let you adjust the height. I could sit on the very edge and sometimes it would hold, then without warning just drop to the lowest setting. Like a crazed carnival ride every time I sat down. He kept saying he could fix it ......... then I heard something about cutting a 2 X 4 and using it to fix the chair so that it would stay at one height. I told him I liked riding up and down in my chair, as I pictured the 2 X 4 flying up to hit me in the head ..... or worse.
Patrick and Julie, some of my favorite kampers, gave me the frog statuary.
It has a secret drawer for an extra key. I guess it is not a secret anymore. I think I will find an old key that goes to an old vehicle long gone (he who loves to trade cars also loves to keep the keys) and put it in the drawer. That way I can frustrate a would be house breaker.
My lone sunflower. Guess he is too tall to be picked by flower thieves.
This is what the grassy fields are looking like these days. The little rain we had on my birthday was not nearly enough.
Kind of scary looking down there! I put a hose in one of these holes for about five minutes and the water never came up to the surface!
In case you are wondering ..... he who loves his wife gave her a new office chair for her birthday! I mean, he did break my old one, after all. Like the driver's seat in my car, he always has to mess with the setting of the chair and I had it just the way I wanted it. Not too high, not too low. I could tip it back just so and catch 20 winks and those entering were none the wiser.
In his readjusting he broke the hydraulic thingy that will let you adjust the height. I could sit on the very edge and sometimes it would hold, then without warning just drop to the lowest setting. Like a crazed carnival ride every time I sat down. He kept saying he could fix it ......... then I heard something about cutting a 2 X 4 and using it to fix the chair so that it would stay at one height. I told him I liked riding up and down in my chair, as I pictured the 2 X 4 flying up to hit me in the head ..... or worse.
Patrick and Julie, some of my favorite kampers, gave me the frog statuary.
It has a secret drawer for an extra key. I guess it is not a secret anymore. I think I will find an old key that goes to an old vehicle long gone (he who loves to trade cars also loves to keep the keys) and put it in the drawer. That way I can frustrate a would be house breaker.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
59 Years
As I sit here in this 59 year old body, I realize that I have only one year left in this decade of my life. 60 sounds a lot older than 59, doesn't it? I was not bothered when I hit other milestones. I embraced 30. I loved being 30 something. The 40's seemed to fly by, filled with grandchildren arriving. Then 50 came along and we started to consider "the rest of our lives" and bought a campground. Which proves that one is never too old to learn ........
What do I want to do in my 60's? This is the year to plan. Next year is the year to put my plan in motion. I can start today.
In the meantime, I woke to the sounds of thunder this morning. I got rain for my birthday! The temperature dropped and it is glorious outside. Everything has been washed clean by the rain. My gardens are happy and the pool ............. is still green. Lighter, but still green.
Another $200 was dumped into the murky depths yesterday. The Green To Clean company is sending more chemicals free. It was guaranteed to work. So was the new stuff he got at a pool supplier yesterday when he bought new sand for the filters.
The robot is sucking up green stuff and we are cleaning the filter in it every few hours. I have perfected the process. He who is in charge of the pool would clean the filter bag by draping it over the hydrant and spraying it with water. Wasted a lot of water and made a huge mess. And we all know how I feel about waste.
I prefer the bucket method. We have lots of buckets from the chlorine. Fill the bucket, rinse the filter, then pick the bucket up and walk to a garden or a tree, empty the water where it can do some good and repeat until the water is clear. He will use the bucket, but just dumps the water right next to the hydrant and it runs under the pavilion and causes weeds to grow. His methods are wasteful and create yet another problem to deal with. Now, I just need to think of a way to make him think it was his idea all along ........
Now I am going to stroll through my park, coffee in hand as the light drizzle graces my head with its cool comfort.
What do I want to do in my 60's? This is the year to plan. Next year is the year to put my plan in motion. I can start today.
In the meantime, I woke to the sounds of thunder this morning. I got rain for my birthday! The temperature dropped and it is glorious outside. Everything has been washed clean by the rain. My gardens are happy and the pool ............. is still green. Lighter, but still green.
Another $200 was dumped into the murky depths yesterday. The Green To Clean company is sending more chemicals free. It was guaranteed to work. So was the new stuff he got at a pool supplier yesterday when he bought new sand for the filters.
The robot is sucking up green stuff and we are cleaning the filter in it every few hours. I have perfected the process. He who is in charge of the pool would clean the filter bag by draping it over the hydrant and spraying it with water. Wasted a lot of water and made a huge mess. And we all know how I feel about waste.
I prefer the bucket method. We have lots of buckets from the chlorine. Fill the bucket, rinse the filter, then pick the bucket up and walk to a garden or a tree, empty the water where it can do some good and repeat until the water is clear. He will use the bucket, but just dumps the water right next to the hydrant and it runs under the pavilion and causes weeds to grow. His methods are wasteful and create yet another problem to deal with. Now, I just need to think of a way to make him think it was his idea all along ........
Now I am going to stroll through my park, coffee in hand as the light drizzle graces my head with its cool comfort.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Escape Day
After the first season of owning a campground we decided that we should each choose one day of the week to be "off ". Couldn't be a weekend, of course, but everybody needs some time off, right?
So after much discussion about how it would work, we each chose a day and agreed that the one left "on duty" would handle everything and not bother the one "off ". Sounds like a plan. None of the "ladies first" stuff with he who wanted a day off. He went first. He left the premises and had a day off. He did end up running some errands, but that is what happens on any one's day off.
My turn came. I asked work camper Sharon if she would like to go with me and we hopped in my VW bug and took off for the mall in Columbia. We did manage to get lost because I called he who is directionally challenged and he had us take the wrong exit, but we found a JoAnn's fabric store, so it was all good. This particular store had not undergone a remodel and was jammed so tight with merchandise one could barely navigate the aisle, but that is another story.
We found the mall, with a Target as the anchor and we strolled the aisles and hunted bargains and then had lunch. Both of us tired with full stomachs, we headed home. There was construction on the interstate and one lane of traffic. We were not moving fast and at times stopped. There was a huge semi in front of my little car and one behind me. The one behind me was really close.
I was watching him in my mirror, then looked away for a second to say something to Sharon. We felt a bump, then Sharon turned and looked at the truck as he hit us again. She was getting a little hysterical, telling me to get out of his way. There was literally no where to go. We were under an overpass and had concrete barriers on both sides. I don't know why I was able to keep my cool and calmly tell her to get my phone out of my purse and dial 911, but I did. Sharon swears the trucker looked her in the eye and that he was crazed.
When we finally made it out from under the by pass and I pulled over, we watched the truck race by us. The tag was on the far left of his truck and there were no identifying logos to be read on the side. The state trooper on the phone with me pretty much told me there was nothing he could do. Sharon got out and looked at the damage to my car. I eased back onto the interstate and drove home. in the slow lane. We had suddenly run out of conversation. It was the longest ride ever and as soon as I was back on the premises, he who had his time off decided that I did not need an entire day.
We abandoned that plan. Seems he who loves to be on the move does not appreciate the confinement of the store. I am not all that fond of it myself, but I tolerate it better than he does. Still, sometimes I need to be away from here. For my sanity. I call it escape day. These days are not scheduled, but if you know me you will become aware of my need for one.
Today was escape day. I went to Mexico. Mexico, Missouri, that is. The WalMart in Mexico has not abolished the fabric department. I fondled fabric and had 21 pieces cut. Got some great deals, too. I went on from there to obtain necessities for the store and home and was gone all morning and into the afternoon. I am here in my prison now whiling away the hours until closing. Not too bad, though, my psyche is at peace. I have new fabric to play with.
This trip went a lot better than my first escape day. And I do not like to be in front of big trucks!
So after much discussion about how it would work, we each chose a day and agreed that the one left "on duty" would handle everything and not bother the one "off ". Sounds like a plan. None of the "ladies first" stuff with he who wanted a day off. He went first. He left the premises and had a day off. He did end up running some errands, but that is what happens on any one's day off.
My turn came. I asked work camper Sharon if she would like to go with me and we hopped in my VW bug and took off for the mall in Columbia. We did manage to get lost because I called he who is directionally challenged and he had us take the wrong exit, but we found a JoAnn's fabric store, so it was all good. This particular store had not undergone a remodel and was jammed so tight with merchandise one could barely navigate the aisle, but that is another story.
We found the mall, with a Target as the anchor and we strolled the aisles and hunted bargains and then had lunch. Both of us tired with full stomachs, we headed home. There was construction on the interstate and one lane of traffic. We were not moving fast and at times stopped. There was a huge semi in front of my little car and one behind me. The one behind me was really close.
I was watching him in my mirror, then looked away for a second to say something to Sharon. We felt a bump, then Sharon turned and looked at the truck as he hit us again. She was getting a little hysterical, telling me to get out of his way. There was literally no where to go. We were under an overpass and had concrete barriers on both sides. I don't know why I was able to keep my cool and calmly tell her to get my phone out of my purse and dial 911, but I did. Sharon swears the trucker looked her in the eye and that he was crazed.
When we finally made it out from under the by pass and I pulled over, we watched the truck race by us. The tag was on the far left of his truck and there were no identifying logos to be read on the side. The state trooper on the phone with me pretty much told me there was nothing he could do. Sharon got out and looked at the damage to my car. I eased back onto the interstate and drove home. in the slow lane. We had suddenly run out of conversation. It was the longest ride ever and as soon as I was back on the premises, he who had his time off decided that I did not need an entire day.
We abandoned that plan. Seems he who loves to be on the move does not appreciate the confinement of the store. I am not all that fond of it myself, but I tolerate it better than he does. Still, sometimes I need to be away from here. For my sanity. I call it escape day. These days are not scheduled, but if you know me you will become aware of my need for one.
Today was escape day. I went to Mexico. Mexico, Missouri, that is. The WalMart in Mexico has not abolished the fabric department. I fondled fabric and had 21 pieces cut. Got some great deals, too. I went on from there to obtain necessities for the store and home and was gone all morning and into the afternoon. I am here in my prison now whiling away the hours until closing. Not too bad, though, my psyche is at peace. I have new fabric to play with.
This trip went a lot better than my first escape day. And I do not like to be in front of big trucks!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)