My Week: What Next?

This two word phrase has been going the rounds in the family for far too long and it finally caught up with me. It’s my turn to wonder, “What next?” I only hope that whatever it is won’t be another disaster. I’d prefer something good. I don’t have a whole lot of control over what happens, I’ve found.

Sunday, I was going to get so much done but I pooped out early—like right after I got up. All the stress with Twinkle had taken its toll. DD and merm were on their camping trip and they’d post the occasional video to show how much fun they were having. Big whoop. We didn’t have our weekly visit but I wouldn’t have had a whole lot to share that was positive so it was just as well.

That afternoon, I went to a baby shower for one of DD’s former elementary schoolmates. She’s a bit older than DD so she’s getting a late start. It will be interesting to see if the son will be an only child. Men were invited, too, and looked a bit like fish out of water. There was lots of food but not much I cared to eat. I ate (too much) when I got home.

Monday, I called the Animal Hospital and told them to discard the urine sample they’d collected from Twinkle. The lady on the other end of the line laughed ruefully when I told her I was almost afraid to say that The Cat was doing better. I asked about the laxative that Twinkle grudgingly takes and she said to finish up the bottle. Right now, tonight, there’s more than half what we’d started out with left. I’ve done a little sleuthing online and found this about feline constipation (exciting times at my house). The stuff she’s getting is lactulose. I’ve gotten good at sneaking up on her and grabbing her head to work the dropper into her mouth and she’s gotten good at forgiving me. It’s definitely helping because she has gone back to using the cat box exclusively, I’m very glad to say.

Tuesday, I called and reminded the office lady to order another bag of food. I had a second $7 coupon I didn’t want to hold until it expired and the food is guaranteed to be fresh for 24 months after the date of manufacture. (Isn’t that kind of like the shelf life of a Big Mac?)

I’d taken the compost out to the bin when I heard someone calling me. It was the neighbor to the north. They are in the process of building a fence to keep their animals corralled. They have a small flock of chickens, a dog or two and a miniature pot-bellied pig. Until they get it finished, all of them are roaming wherever they want and the traffic on this road doesn’t always move slowly. I told them I’d asked my neighbor/cousin’s husband to cut off the branch of the redbud that extends into their yard but he never got a round tuit. It has since died. They said they’d do it and they have. Said fence is partially up but it’s leaning. With all the rock on this mountain, it’s hard to sink anything very far into the ground.

Sometime during the week (I’ve lost track of time), the Squatter excitedly told me about the nest with birdlings under his truck. Seems Pooky had found them and they were wildly hopping all over the yard. S. caught them and put them back into the nest. Another one popped out and he had to do it all over again. From what he said, they were just about to the flying stage. I hope they got out okay because he drove to town on Thursday and didn’t get back until sometime last night.

One day, he didn’t come out of the garage at all—at least not to my knowledge. I really don’t lurk around to see what he’s doing. Anyway, I had to go in to get to the freezer. I asked him if he was okay and he said he was just bummed out, that he needs a job. How many has he had since he’s been here??? Oh, but there was something wrong with each of them and he’s better than that. Okay, but lying on a cot in someone else’s dark garage is better. Please tell me to shut up.

I’d planned to go to town on Thursday, gas up the car, do my shopping, possibly get my hair cut and pick up the cat food but there was a “what next” waiting for me instead. I’d more or less decided to put it off for another day, anyway, when I started out on the deck with some peach sorbet. The anti-gravity chair awaited and I was going to put in some quality time watching the hummingbirds. On the way out, I scraped my ankle on the metal storm door. The part that brought the blood is aluminum but there are rusty screws holding that part together. The memory of my father-in-law’s experience made me think maybe I shouldn’t let it go.

My emergency treatment of choice is tea tree oil. I thoroughly cleaned it with that and then started seeing what I could do to get the help I needed. I tried “Ask a Nurse” but it isn’t what it used to be. Trying to find a hotline didn’t help, either. The clinic’s number was burned in my brain long ago and I’ll probably remember it when I can’t remember my own name. I dialed it. My doctor had already left for the day but if I’d hold, they’d try to contact him. I held and it didn’t take long for the answer. I was to come on in and the nurse would give me a tetanus shot. I put on some semi-presentable clothes and zoomed down the mountain.

It was like old home week at the office. I saw several people I knew and caught up on a lot of the goings on in and around the hospital. After a wait of about a half an hour, I was taken into an exam room and duly shot. There was no co-pay since I didn’t see the doctor and the injection would be billed to my insurance. I have no idea whether it will be covered outside an emergency room but, hopefully, it will. The nurse educated me about what I might expect—fever, soreness, whatever. Motrin (which I don’t have) and/or an ice pack would help. I’ve had no need for either one.

Back home, I ate too much too late. It seems to be my pattern when my routine is interrupted. Maybe that’s the reason for my dream. I dreamed Mother and I were clipping records to wire coat hangers with clothes pins (why, I don’t know). Then I launched into this song (not quite so jazzy) and hit even the high notes. There’s this version with acting that is oh, so poignant.

A prettier rendition is by Bea Wain:

Mother would have said of this one, “They’re murdering that song!”

Yesterday, Twinkle got her last dose of anti-upchuck medicine. She got 1/4 pill every 24 hours so by tomorrow I should know if she’s going to be able to keep food down on her own.

Also yesterday, I finally did my shopping and it was HOT. I needed to mail a package so the post office was the first stop. My a/c pooped out after that. The doctor had sent me a new prescription for my injectable B-12. I did some price comparisons and found I can get it for much less at Bi-Lo. That took long enough for me to do a bit of grocery shopping there. Then I had to gas up the car. Buying real gasoline without ethanol makes for paying a few more cents per gallon but my driving up and down the mountain and running the a/c when it will work resulted in an average of 36 mpg. Not bad. It was on to Walmart from there to finish up the human purchases and then to the Animal Hospital to pick up the bag of food.

Back home, I got everything put away and went out to pick figs. I’ve been amazed at the number of figs this year. Usually, they’re not very big and few in number. This was my take. I ate part of them and saved some for today.

Figs fresh off the tree

Up before good daylight, I was at church well before song service started. During the church service, the pastor led a study on the 2300 Day Prophecy.

There was an impromptu vespers service this evening. I didn’t go. Saturday night is my busiest night of the week plus Twinkle gets her lactulose at 7:30 a.m. and 7:30 p.m. I have to be here to harass her.

I’ve gotten into Zombie Gardening in a small way with organic celery. This took a long time to show any growth but once it started, I can almost watch it grow. This is yesterday


and this is late this afternoon.

Celery next day

I put one little grain of organic fertilizer in with it a week or so ago. Other than that, it’s growing in filtered water.

The kale I planted two weeks ago tomorrow still hasn’t put in an appearance. The soil dries out very quickly so I don’t know that it will ever germinate. I’ve planted some more in a small planter so if it comes up and does well, I’ll transplant it later.

Genese has set up a Wordscraper game that spells (get it?) trouble for anyone starting it. She passed her turn. I’ve passed it right back.

Current Game

With that I will give you a break from all the breathtaking exciting times in my life.

2 Responses to My Week: What Next?

  1. Mary Jane August 26, 2012 at 12:40 pm #

    Yep, the duet murdered poor ol’ “Deep Purple” for sure! I agree with your assessment on all 3 versions.

    Hope the a/c problem isn’t a big one.

    Glad Twinkle seems to be over the worst.

    “What next?” is bad. “Who next?” is worse!

    • Tommie August 26, 2012 at 1:18 pm #

      My Facebook friend who is a Honda Guy says it isn’t. Maybe a half hour fix. Getting it to the dealer is the problem.

      Tomorrow will tell the tale for Twinkle. She will have been without her medicine for three full days.

      Yes, “what” IS bad and “who” IS worse.

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