How Things Get Done.

 How Things Get Done.

 

Got a message this morning that Rachel and Damien arrived in Tokyo around 1 a.m. So glad the kids are getting this experience! Carol Thonton said that her sister Donna spent 30 years over there teaching ESL classes and loved every minute of it. And everything points to the difference in how the children are taught from the get go to be respectful of others and to maintain cleanliness around themselves. Saw a photo of the “aftermath” of a protest in which the grounds were swept up and looked wonderful after the protest was over. Here in the U.S., we can’t even drive cars without throwing something out the window or leaving messes on the table in the restaurants! It is easy to see who cleans up things at home when the mother starts clearing the plates and stacking them on a table at the restaurant.

 

Need to go make a piece or two of toast this morning to use up the avocados on the kitchen table. Not about to let those things go to waste! It just seems like nothing is all that appealing for meals right now. Maybe some fajita soup tonight.

 

Patty called yesterday to brag about how good Roxie smelled and felt after the groomer came to brush and bathe her fur. He told her he removed an entire dog’s worth of fur! That’s really easy to believe. My dogs got a fairly good brushing yesterday, but the wind was blowing enough that the fur went right onto my sweat pants! New style! HA!

 

My oldest child reached down to hug and kiss his wife goodbye yesterday morning and pulled something in his back. He is now on muscle relaxants and trying to work while in pain. Know how miserable that can be. Appreciate prayers for him.

 

Shone finally got in to see the new doctor for her granddaughter who has to have a wheelchair. They went through covid and flu with her doctor right about the time he was supposed to be filling out the paperwork for a new chair—and then he retired before getting the stuff filed!! Anyway, now they have a new doctor for the kid and maybe they will be able to get her a new wheelchair that fits her size now. Meanwhile, Shona’s mom, Barbara, has some other issues with social services not providing the tables that attach to her wheelchair. Nothing is ever simple, is it.

 

Feeling somewhat overwhelmed by all the crap that needs to be done around here this morning and just called Maria to see if she can come this afternoon to help me reorganize—with emphasis on the organize—and get rid of a bunch of stuff. She will clean up the mess the plumber left as well. He did not make too much mess, but then, he is not taking care of the floors around here. The $1500 was just about enough to take my breath away, but then Sterling told me that he went through something similar when his well pump went out this past November. Shona just reminded me that we should be thankful to be able to pay for this shtuff! She is right, of course, and waking up to a flooded bathroom with an inch and a half of water flooding the floor was certainly not a great way to wake up yesterday! Now to get some stuff given away or otherwise disposed of should help my beady little brain.

 

Thinking about colors this morning. Over time, most of us have a favorite color. One of mine has always been a goldish yellow, but that may be because of the beautiful dress Mom made for me back during my eighth-grade graduation. Granddad Pollard told me that his granddaughter was beautiful! This kid hardly ever heard that unless Mom quickly made the comment, “Pretty is as pretty does.” Tell me that does not take any gloss off a compliment in a hurry! Oh well. Then other colors made me happy: turquoise, purple, and honey brown. Yes, brown with a gold tinge to it. Maybe that is a bit strange, but those colors still appeal to me. Know one grandchild who loves purple as well.

 

We got some much-needed rain early this morning. Of course, both dogs were about as restless before the storm hit as dogs can get, but we knew this was coming. The temps are supposed to drop tonight and for the next few days. Just have to remember to open the cabinet doors and let the water drip if it is supposed to freeze.

 

Meanwhile, back at the barn, have to figure out what to do with the dog beds. Sylvia wants Thompson’s bed, and he won’t fuss with her about it. He just whines at me as if to say, “Mom, she got my bed again!” He is such a sweet thing, and she is so very ornery and does not mind me very well. Have had Thompson since he was 8 weeks old, but got her as the final home after four other families decided that they could not handle her. Talk about hyper! Part Beegle and part Pitbull—and part garbage disposal!

 

Have not taken any pain meds this morning and still have two brain cells working, so maybe this should be the way to start my days. Just won’t post anything on the days that my mind is stuck on the crud we see online—or the “news” that comes to us from friends who don’t realize that we are doing the best we can to handle life. Anyway, let us try to be an encouragement to all those with whom we have contact. Remember those who mourn, those whose health or other situations are irremediable, or simply those whose attitude has slipped off into a big ol’ ditch of maladaptation. Life goes on. And God continues to bless and love us.

 

Rest well, my friends. You are loved.