To Pack or Not To Pack

 Cujo here. I am happy to report that my Mom is finally feeling better. I was by her side the entire time that she was sick. She sounded like she was barking like us dogs!

I must confess that I am not so happy that Mom is well. I mean, I am happy she feels better, but now that she feels better she is always busy putting all of our stuff in boxes. This cuts in on our napping time. HeWho is our Dad still naps, but I am not likely to cuddle with him! 

Even if I wanted to cuddle with him, I am not his dog. Toni is his dog. Martha, the boy cat, has been sitting with him a lot since we returned from our last trip. He thought that Martha must have missed him. Martha told me that was not the case! Martha had taken over his chair in his absence and would really prefer to sit there alone. Martha is quite heavy and even though HeWho is our Dad complains about Martha's weight, he will not take the hint and leave the chair to Martha!

These men came in our house the other day. Just walked right in. I had never seen them before, but mom scooped me up before I could defend my territory! One of them even reached out to pet me and Mom asked him if he wanted to keep his fingers. I prefer to bite ankles, myself. It is funny to watch big men run from me. I could tell that Mom wasn't liking the men and I was ready and willing to attack.

I heard her tell Dad that she should have let me have my way with them! She said she knew that the dogs could tell she didn't like them and that if I went into attack mode, all of us dogs would follow. It really would have been great fun, you know.

I got really cold last! They checked the weather at our new house and it was't a cold there. I wish we were there! Mom says she wishes that we were there, too. Martha keeps asking me questions about it. I told him about the woods and he said he would be ready to explore. I told him abot the stream that has some fish in it. Martha is not a big fan of fish. He prefers rabbits and birds. He told me he had a refined palate. I am not sure what that is and told him to stop acting so uppity!

Life is pretty boring right now. Everyday is just more boxes and that loud tape Mom puts on them. Then she writes on the box. She calls it labeling and she asked HeWho is our Dad if he was labeling his boxes. He said he was, but she decided to check. He labeled one box "table beside my chair". 

Mom asked him if the box contained a table. When he said it didn't and she asked what was in the box, he said the stuff that was in the table beside his chair. Then she asked if the stuff in the box was going to be in table beside his chair in the new house. He said he didn't know. So she asked him what exactly was in the box and to please not tell her that he scooped everything into the box that was in and on the table beside his chair.

He has a pained expression on his face. She said, "You did, didn't you?" He didn't answer her. So she told him that she assumed it had everything he laid on that table in the box. Then she started naming all the things she cleans off that table. Loose change, pocket lint, candy wrappers, old reciepts that do not need to be kept. She told him that she would most likely repack his boxes in order to not move trash!!

She was not happy about it. I don't know why she told him to pack anything, she has always said that he doesn't know how. Wouldn't it be simpler to just do it herself? I am not gong to ask her. You can if you want.

Appraising Shenanigans

The long awaited appraisal happened yesterday. Did I want an appraisal? Not really. On the other hand, I don't want to start this process all over again, as we are 6 months into this.

We had an appraisal on our new home at the suggestion of our real estate agent. It was not cheap, we paid for it. The report form the appraisor was very professional and pointed out some issues about the shared well that we had not considered. Other than that, he checked the roof, the exterior of the home, as well as the interior. He inspected all the utility entries and the grounds. No surprises, and there should be no surprises in the future.

Unsure what the appraisal of a business would entail, we just went with the flow. I am still coughing and my voice is raspy and I still feel pretty crappy. Best to leave me alone. I did not think the living quarters would be under scrutiny. I was wrong. There are boxes everywhere, empty and packed. We are merely waiting to go. The jovial man and his younger helper carrying a hose reel tape measure just came on in. 

I grabbed up my biter, Cujo and held him during the entire invasion. Prone to chat, the appraiser seemed more interested in my dog breeds than anything else. He took pictures of all the rooms at a leisurely pace and sauntered through chatting about this and that having nothing to do with an appraisal.

In hind sight, maybe I should have left Cujo to do his favorite job and maybe he would have left faster. Despite the missing front teeth (they don't know this), Cujo can present quite viciously and if he senses that his master (me) might enjoy a good show, he will attack. If he were to attack, his siblings would most like follow the leader and do likewise.

But I digress in my imagination. All the financials are in the possession of the would be buyers and the bank. I was surprised when he said he wanted to go over my books, knowing that all that information was in their possession. Was this a lie detector test for me? He had my brochure clenched in his grasp and began with his questions. I rasped out the answers and then when he started asking redundant questions, I pointed to his hand and told him to refer to the brochure. Then he wanted my personal email and my cell number. I said, "For what reason, you have the campground number and email and if you were to call me on my personal line or email me, I would not be pleased, and I would make sure you knew it!"

Then he went outside to plunder through the park. I don't know that any measurements were taken by what I was told was an expert at appraising. No one climbed on the roof, or checked out the well or the holding tanks. We were told he would have the appraisal done in two days time and would call with any questions. He did not offer any credentials and I wonder if he was real!!

We certainly did not pay for this appraisal, we refuse to pay any costs related to the sale of the park, since they reduced their offer. Is this a ploy to try to reduce the asking price again? It won't work, as much as I do not want to be here, I will refuse to sign such a document. My signature has to be there or the sale will not go through. I may not want to start over again, but I seriously doubt it will take another 6 months.

My patience for shenanigans is at an all time low. 

 

Dinner Is Served

 You might recall me poking fun at my husband's description of cooking yesterday. I seem to have been paid back for my superior attitude.

I took a little rest, then started cooking the evening meal as I usually do. In times past I have definitely had some issues with burning food, two of those times resulting in flames. This was because my attention had been interrupted by customers. I am usually careful to either turn the stove/oven down or off before I take off to answer the summons to the office. The two fires having made me more cautious.

I was splitting my attention between the stove and the news when the hateful bell rang. HeWho was snuggled in his comfy chair and we had a moment's staredown to see which one of us would respond. Feeling generous, I took it and checked a camper in.

When this happens, I admit that I fully expect his help with the stove in my absence. If you smell something burning, you should either turn it off, put out the flames, or stir the contents and lower the temp. He didn't notice anything amiss until after I was finished and he had ambled out to have some lazy chit chat with the customer, as another approached needing an LP bottle filled.

The chicken was ..... um, blackened. I added some liquid and finished the vegetables, only to find that the liquid cooked out again and further "blackened" the meat. We ate it anyway. It was only burnt on one side, after all and with a bucket of BBQ sauce you could hardly tell!!

The appraiser should be here today. I plan to use my current ailment to lay low. I will volunteer to keep the canine contingent occupied while they are in the building. The outside area is up to HeWho agreed to the terms of this situation. It is raining and nasty out there, so I wouldn't go out there in any case.

I have aquired more boxes and will spend the afternoon filling them up. We should have a good idea of the size moving truck required by the end of the week. Worst case scenario is to rent another U-Haul and tow it with the over flow and I will just drive my car. I sincerely hope not, as I like to ride more than I like to drive. The movers will be better at space usage that HeWho (ANYBODY would be better at that!), so hopefully he will over-estimate the needs and I can ride with the car in tow.

Only other pressing matter is the North Carolina tags we need for the RV. They will only mail them to our new address. Why? That is the way they choose to do it. We need them very soon, as the dealer tag will soon expire. What are the chances we would be stopped? I don't want to find out.

Should I attemp another meal today? Will I get a nap? Will I ever find out why I am sweating excessively? Stay tuned!

Cooking and Naps

I packed all morning and now have a sizable stack(s) of boxes to show for my efforts. I was feeling quite accomplished until I looked around at the remaining stuff scattered around. A little overwhelmed is how I now feel.

HeWho helped with some of his stash of unnecessary items. I made many trips to the dumpster and scored two good sized cardboard boxes filled with what had to be the packaging for a little girl's dream Christmas. HeWho was on a step ladder digging to the outer reaches of a storage cupboard muttering that "we can't keep all this crap" as if he just realized this. Did I not just load my car twice with fabric and donate it at the church? What did he think I was up to?

Resting now and listening to him command Siri to give him the office hours of the tax office. He has reverted to his old southern drawl and she kept giving him  information he didn't want. I couldn't help laughing as he was shown an aerial map of the county, then the city. He was asking for "Montgomery County tax office hours", then the city. I told him to speed it up and I would have phrased it differently, like "Tax office hours, Montgomery County". He sure does entertain me!

Still so much to do and me without energy. I inquired about what might be to his liking for dinner. He wants BBQ chicken and said he could "fix it". Since he likes to slather his food with BBQ sauce anyway, does it really matter how I cook the chicken? Curious, I asked how he would be "fixing" this feast of chicken.

"You put the chicken in a pot and pour BBQ sauce on it and cook it!" he exclaimed like a proud kindergartner describing this mystery called cooking. I am tempted to let him give a go, but knowing I would be the clean-up team of one, I changed my mind. In my mind's eye I see a cook pot with dried out crisp and gooey chicken stuck to the bottom. The pot may, or may not be salvagable, depending on the amount of effort I would be willing to put into the clean up. I would rather just cook myself.

As for the sauces he is prone to use, I have finally convinced him to read the label about the sodium content. He will proudly proclaim the sodium content as he generously douses his food. My next challenge is making him use the recommended serving amount. This is usually a tablespoon, not half a cup!

In other news, my clinic just called with the results of my blood tests. Everything is fine. My cholesterol is borderline and maybe I should watch my carbs .... The thyroid testing shows no reason for my excessive perspiration, even when I am cold. I feel like somebody has been screwing around with my thermostat, but it was apparently not my thyroid. I apologize to my gland for suspecting it. As for watching my carbs, I replied "whatever" to the nurse. She laughed, knowing better than to argue with me.

I need a little nap now.

 

I Am A Food Critic

So yesterday I told you about my Christmas dinner fail. Not the only substandard meal of late ... read on.

The last night of our stay in our new home before heading back to our current lives happened to be our wedding anniversary. Forty-eight years of wedded bliss. Well, it has not been boring at any rate and I wouldn't have it any other way.

HeWho loves me wanted to take me out to dinner. You know, in a restaurant without tiny dogs begging to taste my food. He consulted his current girfriend, Siri, for suggestions and we settled on Daniel's Steakhouse in Hiawassee, Ga. Not too far away.

I had read reviews for local eateries on line while exploring my new surroundings long distance via the internet and it sounded like a decent choice. The prices were reasonable and they had fish, as well. I love fish, so off we went leaving Eddie in charge. It was, after all, his turn.

Still finding our way around, we depend on Siri's superior navigating skills. As we approached the establishment, I noted the full parking lot. This is usually a good sign that the food is good ... or plentiful.

Upon entry I noticed the portraits of Rhett and Scarlett and the period furnishings. Lots of gray haired patrons scurried to and fro with plates of food, clogging the entryway with those having completed their meals and looking to pay. Two easles displayed white boards with the day's special and the contents of the buffet. Hard to read with all the traffic. No hostess, but no sign telling you to seat yourself either. Two cashiers were dealing with those paying for meals, but even when they completed that task they ignored us and talked amoung themselves. Southern hospitality? Not really.

HeWho was intent on food spied an empty booth in the dining room to our left and we planted ourselves in it. A waitress appeared, asked about our beverage choices and then shooed us to the buffet. No offer of a menu.

The buffet had the obligatory iceburg lettuce salad and toppings. Why do they have sliced canned peaches? I have always wondered that. Do people actually douse their salad with peaches? Then the vegetables which were being replenished, straight for the industrial sized cans. Yum! They had baked fish, fried fish, fried shrimp and fried chicken. I think it just might be against the law in the south to exclude fried chicken from a buffet line.

As the progress of the line continued, we were faced with a table holding four big boxes of plastic gloves with instructions to use them while serving yourself. The giant ones that are supposed to be one size fits all. All the oldsters in line were stuffing their hands obediently into the gloves. No masks in sight, but gloves were being put on without any objections. We complied, of course, we are not rebels with a cause. I noted a sign that absolved the establishment of any liability should you contract the corona virus here. Made me think of the signs around my pool advising you to swim at your own risk. Just a deterent to those looking to make a buck in a lawsuit that would blame you for their own stupidity. Won't stop them if they are determined to sue, though. The great American tradition of suing one another.

Everytime we eat "out" I worry about the sodium content of the food. Southern food is known for "seasoning". Salt makes everything taste better and the "less is more" concept is not a southern one.

I needn't have worried. Bland food ruled the day here. Even the fried chicken had no salt! Macaroni and cheese was tasteless. How do you manage to make that without the taste of cheese! The tastiest thing on the buffet was the iceburg lettuce! The yeast rolls must have been languishing on the buffet line for a very long time. They were hard and also tasteless. I ate my salad and my fish doctored with salt and pepper, then sat sipping my tea as I indulged in people watching.

Our booth was in the path of the buffet goers coming and leaving with plates piled high with food. The fake ferns were furry with dust and my sight line was perfect for watching the cashier in a tight t-shirt and bell bottomed khaki's with cargo pockets straining at the seams. She wasn't obese by any means, just looked like she might have been shopping in her teen daughter's closet in an effort to look younger. The bottom of her scalp, below her ears was buzzed close and the remaining hair was pulled into a high ponytail and flipped under to create a wobbly bun atop her head and adorned with a neon pink skunk stripe. Wonder what Rhett and Scarlet thought about her do?

The older men were all pot bellied, mostly in polo shirts. The younger men were either very thin or morbidly obese and displaying butt crack. The women were either overly made-up with big hair or no make-up and unwashed lank hair. Either dressed for a gala or a blizzard. It was quite interesting and bizarre at the same time.

I had seen the desserts in the line and knew right away I wold not want any dessert. HeWho is a lover of chocolate came back to our table with a tiny square of chocolate iced chocolate cake with a tiny dollup of whipped cream. He didn't finish it. He told me it was "dead".

Will we go back? Certainly not for the buffet! HeWho wants to try the menu. Why? No idea. I would only accompany him under duress!!

 

No Gifts Means No Gifts!

 Day eight of whatever bug has invaded my body. I do feel a lot better, but still not good. Still coughing, but not as much, still dizzy, but not as often. The headache lingers on, as well as the overwhelming fatigue.

I cooked the absolute worst Christmas dinner of my life yesterday. Nothing went as it should have and I honestly don't know why. The sweet potatoes were not as done as they should have been, the frozen creamed corn was awful, tasting like feed corn for cattle. The roast was okay, tender and tasty (after I salted it), the cresent rolls were okay. Other than burning them, there is not much to do to ruin them. HeWho had requested a pecan pie. 

I made it just as I always have, double checking to make sure I got every ingredient in. I used a frozen crust and, let's face it, it is one of the easiest pies to make. No mixer, just stir it all together and dump it in the crust. Should have been done in 60 minutes or less. When I checked it by gently shaking the pan it was still too liquid in the middle. Another 30 minutes and I pulled it out anyway, as the crust and top were too brown. I hoped it would set up while sitting. It didn't. It tasted good, a big hit with HeWho loves pie, as he ate 1/4 of it and got seconds. It was too rich for me and I felt a little gaggy and decided to set it aside.

This should mean that next year's meal will be spectacular, right? My oven is cantankerous, so it should come as no surprise that the meal was in jeopardy. Next year will not have the cook paired with an inferior oven.

I packed 4 boxes yesterday. Only two today. I like my boxes to be full to capacity and packed tight. No breakage if you do it right and today's boxes required searching for items to fit just right. I had planned to get so much more accomplished, but I am so tired.

We had decided no gifts this year, since we just bought a new home and a new RV. But, my reason is much more practical. If we get each other gifts, they will have to be packed for the move, thus creating more work for me.

HeWho is not known for playing fair, so when he asked me to go outside to see something, I knew he had bought something for me. You all remember my newest pet, Adorable Dora, the Explorer? The tiny red bellied slider that was found barely alive in the end of the year pool muck that was originally named Theodore until further investigation took place. You might recall that she was about the size of a quarter and took up residence in a terrarium that was one of the arrangements from my Dad's funeral.

Her habitat is roomy for a creature as small as she still is. She has a pool, rocks to sun on and provide her with "steps" out of her pool. She appears to be quite content with her current lodgings. When I say her name she stretches her neck out and up to see me. I swear to you that she looks me right in the eye. I just purchased a new bulb to keep her warm and healthy.

So, I ask myself, why did HeWho decide to buy a huge new habitat for her? It took up the entire back seat of my car! She is the size of a half dollar! Her current digs are like an entire country to her. Not only that, I wondered WHERE this would go in our new digs. There is no wall space to speak of. Windows everywhere and this thing is way out of proportion to our little house. Her house would be bigger that any of the dog beds!!

I get it, he wanted to buy something for me and he wanted it to be impressive. I am not easy to impress with stuff. I do not like cut flowers, so a big gesture of two dozen roses just makes me wonder how many rose bushes could have been bought to be enjoyed year after year. While I appreciate the sentiment involved with a gift for a pet I love, I convinced him to take it back and I will let him purchase a far more practical one AFTER we move.

My plan was to get him a fishing reel, a really nice one, for Christmas. He is not known for taking good care of his toys. I bought him one when we had the cabin on the lake, but he has no idea where it is now. No need to have to move it, right?

Merry Christmas!

I fully expected to wake up yesterday completely normal, no cough, no weakness, no itchy ears. You know, because I made an appointment to go to the clinic. Isn't that what always happens? You make the appointment and like magic, all your symptoms disappear.

Didn't happen. I woke with a wonky head and was dizzy when I stood up. Made the coffee, drank the coffee, still waiting for a miracle. Nowadays a trip to the clinic involves a call upon arrival to let them know you have arrived. They call you back and question you about the purpose of the visit to determine whether they will let you enter the facility. The nurse came out to my car armed with a thermometer, oxygen level devise and the dreaded long cotton swabs. No fever, enough O2 to sustain life and then the two swabs to the nose. Not as bad as the first Covid test when I was certain they had extracted brain matter.

Then you sit in your car and wait for 15 minutes for the test results. Negative for both Covid and the Flu strain currently in vogue. I was invited to enter the building. With a mask in place. I wobbled in on my weak legs and was made to submit to the scales. I was hoping I had dropped a few pounds. I haven't gained any, so I will take that as a win.

My nurse practitioner arrived to say that she had been told that I looked and sounded awful. She was worried about pneumonia, but the lungs are clear, although the cough is traveling down. I sound like a chain smoker when I talk (bark). My throat still hurts, too. We discussed steroids. I know how fast I would start to feel better with a round of steroids, but they make me want to crawl out of my skin. Added to the current stress of moving, we decided against that course of action. I already have Zyrtec, Flonase and Mucinex on hand. She wrote an antibiotic out to be on hand at the pharmacy if I should determine no changes. 

I am all set for Christmas. Just the two of us and whatever I can wrestle up for a festive dinner. Today is Christmas Eve and I am feeling more energetic. I have started the laundry and am thinking of tackling the emptied boxes that returned with me. I am still coughing, but not as much. I managed to clean the kitchen ysterday. HeWho has been doing dishes, so it wasn't too bad. More like putting the clean dishes away and then hitting all the spots he missed in his efforts. No complaints, I was grateful for all the help.

HeWho tries, will never pass as a good nurse maid. He was quite attentive, bringing me gingerale and orange juice with just the right amount of ice cubes (he was paying attention!!). He was more than happy to hop in the car and go to the far reaches of the earth to bring me whatever I desired. I have never been high maintenance, though. I am well stocked with gingerale and orange juice. A blanket and my dogs, a cup of hot tea with honey and my world is good.

Wishing all my family and friends a wonderful, healthy Christmas Day.