Sunday, December 28, 2008

Song of the day

Paul Simon and Art Garfunkle "Slip Sliding Away." Just as irritating to have stuck in my head.

My normal routine goes as follows. After rolling over just after 6am, the dogs figure it means that I am ready to get up. They pounce, covering me with doggy kisses and nosing me to "make sure I am alright." Yeah, right. Sometimes I yell and throw things, but since getting Kate I generally get up quickly and try to get her out before she relieves herself on the carpet. Then I check the temperature in the house and chastise myself for not bringing in that last bunch of wood. Turn on the hot water on the water dispenser, go to the bathroom and put on my robe. Sadly, this is so routine that Henry leads me around the house until I have done all of those things, in that order. sigh. However, with the snow and temperatures in the teens and twenties I have had to also get dressed as I am getting out of bed. My normal attire for feeding the horse and letting her out for the day is robe, hat, boot and sometimes coat over robe. (Indeed, I AM that weird old neighbor lady.) However, lately my scotty robe has been sitting on the hook in my bathroom. Poor Henry is completely lost because of it. He stands in the bathroom waiting, and barking. Meanwhile I am getting a hot drink, checking email, sorting through things on the table, and there he stands. In my bathroom, barking at my robe. Today, for the first time in over a week, I took that robe off the hook. Poor Henry went crazy. He was beside himself with joy. Life was as it should be once again. I then put the left boot on my right foot and headed out for chores...sans coat. I can't handle the idea that my day is so boring that even the dog knows the routine. I think tomorrow I may have to put the RIGHT boot on the right foot, eh?

The snow is going away. Not any too fast, but going, none the less. The rhodies no longer have clamped down leaves and the trees are standing a bit prouder. Looking out my windows it appears that there is no snow at all. However, once in a standing position it becomes quite obvious. There is still only grass and dirt showing where I have shoveled paths. If I venture off the paths it is a sippery, slimy mess. The roofs have only an inch or maybe two left. Today I will do a walk around the house and see if the gutters all survived. I guess that has been the biggest loss to home owners. Those big heavy sheets all begin to slide down and catch on the gutters taking them out as it continues the journey to the ground. I went out yesterday. I needed to know that I could, so I gave it a try. I needed hay, so bought two bales for weight. They are still in the back of the truck...I can't get the truck back to the barn to unload them. I still have about a day's worth out there. All the "real" roads are clear. Slick as snot with all the sand, but clear. My driveway that connects to the shared driveway is only clear where I have shoveled, and the shared road has tire tracks that show the ground. Getting down was a piece of cake. Getting back into the carport, even with the two bales of hay, was not easy. I had to do a bit more shoveling to make it. Hopefully by tomorrow the worst will be over. I now have bloody bleeding blisters on both hands. One of the good, and bad, things about having peripheral neuropathy is that I don't feel them coming on. I had no idea at all until I saw the blood. Bummer. Back on the cyclosporine. It was, however, worth it all just to get out on the road. Cabin fever is not a good feeling. Besides, next week I want to get to my sister's place. I have presents that I will try to get pictures of for all of you crazy folks that are still ready, and hoping, for tomato adventures. No, I am not getting my sister a tomato, but close...

1 comment:

2Grandmas2 said...

The mental image of you lurching through the yard in the early morning is hurting my brain. Ow, ow!

Lucky for this world, I have no yard, only a deck where no one can see me anyway.