Fall Weather
So who knows what weather will come next in Texas? Oh, we have forecasts, but most of them hardly suit those of us who have lived 70 years or more; in fact, the forecasts don't necessarily suit many of those much younger. So the wind blows wherever it will, the rain falls whenever it can, and the sun hides behind more rain clouds. Ah, one of my professors would call that anthropomorphism--assigning human characteristics or emotions to non human entities. I suspect he never had a pet toad.
Most of the time my writing has been limited to a blog on Facebook called Common Sense and Happiness--not that I have much of either lately. Since Hanan's death it has just been difficult to think about some things with any real logic. He was always here to talk to about my ideas, and now I just DO things without talking to anyone about them. Thus the weed whacker that I can't start and that whacks things as large as small trees!! And then there is the pneumatic thingy that goes into the chair to keep it from going whoosh and dropping the six or so inches below my desk level. The YouTube video made it look easy to install. So much for what looks did. The thing ordered did not look in the least like the thing delivered. sigh
So here on Dickerson Hill it is possible to post my feelings about the political cesspool without embarrassing my children--unless they happen to read something here. But since I won't mention their names, perhaps that will alleviate anything personal that might refer to their crazy parent. Expressing my thoughts or feelings has a somewhat cathartic effect--getting it out of my system, so to speak. And no, I don't really expect anyone to "follow" this blog. Not many read the posts in Mesquite Country, so Dickerson Hill will probably be pretty restricted to a few stray possibilities. The grief I normally express in my journal may or may not find its way here, but no promises are being made.
So this morning at six the thoughts running through my head made me feel quite desperate in some ways. I have three dogs--all rescues--and only one was my choice. Thompson--named after Hunter S. Thompson by Hanan--was a pit bull type puppy that I adopted from the Pit Crew some four years ago. Sylvia (named after Sylvia Plath) came inside my house with a pitiful look from Hanan asking if HE could have the puppy. So she immediately became my dog somehow. That was about two years ago or longer. Now I have Ginger who was supposed to be a companion for Snoop who Hanan rescued to take to his Auntie Anne to keep her company. That worked out very well for both of them until Hanan died and Anne stopped bringing Snoop to visit my dogs. That is when Ginger became the companion of Snoop because Anne thought he was depressed without my dogs. Ginger was about to find herself homeless when her owners decided to "get rid" of her. It sounded like a way to help Snoop and Ginger. However, Ginger is all puppy and part Beagle. She chases things, digs holes, tears things up, and otherwise is all dog. When Anne fell and broke her ankle, she asked me to take her two dogs until she could take them back. God bless animals! Four dogs nearly drove me wild, not to mention the total anxiety caused by the possibility that my sister-in-law might not live through the blood clots and blood infection developed from the surgery on her ankle. Finally Anne was able to return home and a week or so later only three dogs remained in my care. Ginger has sharp claws and could scratch Anne who is on blood thinners. So meanwhile Ginger chased my five remaining hens and two of them died. The three remaining hens are well aware that Ginger is a danger to them. This morning I forgot and left the door open and Ginger chased Fluffy Butt under the baby pool. No damage done except for terrorizing the poor girl. Anyway, three hens and three dogs! How can I possibly leave home without having someone to care for them? So an appointment in Dallas in November feels impossible at the moment. Thinking about Skype has been on my mind. We will see.
It's raining again this morning. It had not started until about eight, but now it is just a misting rain blowing through the air. The AC unit in my office is now in the shelf on the far wall along with the one from Hanan's room. The rest of the units in the house will just have to stay where they are as they are too heavy for this old girl to move--besides being fastened in the windows. Oldest son put dowel rods in the windows to keep them from being opened from the outside after the house was burglarized in February. sigh This used to be SUCH a good neighborhood. Only one decent neighbor remains to the west. Patty and Donny are good people.
Sitting here thinking about the type of people with whom I associate--not that many. Most of them are just good ol' country people who never read anything other than a novel or watched a TV show on a regular basis. For my part, a great lack of current social culture remains when others are talking about some TV show or movie or even the songs currently--from about the 80s on--come to the conversation. Maybe that lack of semi-current social knowledge is a form of snobbery on my part. Whatever it is, no one is likely to understand many of the books left in my bookcases. Even getting rid of books to clear out the shelves has not been easy until finally the oldest child told me that they could be cleared out AFTER I had moved on to glory or whatever. That made me feel less of a burden. Cleaning out my parents' house after moving them to the nursing home was a major task, but it did not really bother me in many ways. It was just sad. Some sadness is just inevitable.
Enough for now. IF I can return to this blog to post later, I will try. For now the house needs attention along with these three destructive dogs!! Tomorrow is not promised; live and love today.
