Super Hero Warning

July 4, 2020 – Elsa-the-Dog reduced to shaking and shivering due to distant fireworks.

July 5, 2020 – More shaking and shivering due to close-up thunder storms

July 7, 2020 – Hysterical barking at 2:30AM.

Yes, I was awakened at 2:30AM by Elsa-the-Dog’s loud screaming/barking.  She NEVER does that.  She is a sound and happy sleeper and only sends the alarm bark during daytime hours when the UPS man emerges.

Since it was a hysterical bark

there had to be something amiss.

Elsa and I began a flashlight search of the house.  It was a full moon and we could see silver images through the windows so we were checking the outside too.  Bill was blissfully sound asleep.

Was it the bear visiting again and

rustling around somewhere near?

I thought maybe it could even be human

and what would I do then?

Was someone trying to get in?

After a room by room search Elsa and I went back to bed.  We just got comfortably tucked in when she began the hysterical barking again.  This was definitely her alarm bark to signal intruders!

Another search ensued to no avail and we finally gave up at 4:30 AM.  But I kept thinking and thinking while Elsa and Bill were then fast asleep.

A sunny day today and this morning I peeked into our attached garage from the relative safety of the mudroom/laundry.  The garage was the one place we missed in our moonlight search.

Whoa!  There was the answer to Elsa’s warnings.  There were torn pieces of something white and a hunk of the drywall ripped out.  Some critter was trying hard to create an exit.

Still no idea what it was but it must have got in when the automatic door stayed open as Bill went to get the mail yesterday.  That gave the Crazie Critter time and  opportunity to explore.

“Hey – this looks like a grand place to raise a family!”

“On the other hand, maybe not.”

“Now how did I get in here in the first place?”

“Wasn’t that big door open a minute ago?”

“I’ll just sit here quietly until dark

and then find my way out.”

“Lemme Out!  Lemme Out! Lemme Out!”

Elsa heard it all and warned her human pack that something was amiss.  She just wasn’t sure where.

I will never doubt her warning barks again.  She knows what she’s talking about and she is now my Super Hero.

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Meandering Medley

“What is your vegetable of the day?” we asked.  And our waitress answered, “A Melody of vegetables.”  ~ Dor

Our Day 3 Rule is not working!

That is a rule in our house whereby I cook for 2 days but on Day 3 we eat out.

To reinforce this, my meal planning and end results go like this:

1. Day 1 – A fairly delicious healthy meal with protein, vegetables (a melody), a starch, and a fresh salad.
2. Day 2 – Still almost passable.
3. Day 3 – A no longer attractively displayed meal with a slightly unappetizing aroma, and no taste.  I don’t do this on purpose either.  It just happens.

And Bill knows we have to eat out!  Today is Day #3 but I think he has forgotten.

Saturday I went for MRI #5.

Good thing I handle the claustrophobia and loud banging noises well.  I always ask them to play DooWop music but they don’t really know what that is so they get “Oldies” which are never quite old enough.

Ah well.  But I am anxious for the results of this one because BigFoot is no longer Big!  Can this be a happy omen?  The swelling is waaaay down to an almost SkinnyFoot!

The trip for the MRI was also kind of fun since we found our way to a Roanoke, Virginia shopping center and had lunch at the Wild Flour Café.  Isn’t it nice that this old couple can still enjoy good food (not cooked by me!) and good conversation away from home?

Other happiness:

“Sleep perchance to dream.” from William Shakespeare’ s play, Hamlet.

Two weeks ago I had a Sleep Apnea Test (which they prefer to call a “study”).  I must say it was a tortuous experience but they called today to announce that “You do not have Sleep Apnea and your oxygen levels are fine.”  Ha! I have passed the Study! Hurrah!

I do understand why the dr. ordered it though.  He kept saying my tongue was too big for my throat or the throat was too small.

So we started with a finger test at home that didn’t look good but perhaps the finger was too small or the test thing was too big because they think it accidentally slipped off during the night.  No matter.  I sleep like a log – always have – and no snoring either.

The quote above about the Melody of Vegetables is true!  And isn’t this a grand and happy Melody of Meanderings?

 

 

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Like Clockwork

 

It started with Bill’s cold and nagging cough.

To avoid germs and assure peaceful slumber, I moved to the guest room.

 I woke up at 9:00 that morning thinking, “Wow, it’s really late and I NEVER wake up at 9AM.  There must be something wrong with me.”

I even wrote the whole event down in a journal to take to the doctor at checkup time.

A day or so later (while still languishing in solitary confinement) I woke up at a more acceptable 8AM.

Regaining consciousness is sometimes a bit of a feat but I managed to glance at the clock and thought,

“Why do I not hear Bill in the kitchen?”

To further explain this you need to know Bill is a man you can tell time by. 

Example: He used to take GI showers (rinse, turn off water, lather, rinse). 

One day Son called and asked to talk to his Dad.

“He’s in the shower,” I said.  “Oh,” said Son, “Is he on the first or second wash?” 

You get the idea right?  We can tell where Bill is at any given moment.

And he is normally in the kitchen at 7:15 AM SHARP making his own breakfast.

I studiously avoid Bill in the kitchen because I tend to give him morning sickness.

Lest you judge my wifely aptitude, I used to make his breakfast but he could never eat it because he said he felt sick. 

One day I didn’t wake up in time and he made his own breakfast and felt fine. 

He determined I made him ill and has made his own breakfast ever since.  

Anyway, on this particular morning from my place of solitary confinement in the spare bedroom, I was listening for Bill in the kitchen.

He is usually promptly there puttering at 7:15 AM.  The clock said 8:00 AM and there was utter silence!

I struggled to fully wake and kept looking at that clock.  Waiting.  Waiting.  8:10AM.  8:11AM.  Where was Bill?

And I had a panicky thought.  “Maybe he is dead.  What should I do?

Should I take a mirror in to test his breath?  No, I will wait a little longer.”

At 8:15, I became overwrought so staggered into the master bedroom.

Sure enough, Bill was there but he turned and looked up slightly blinded when I put the light on.

“What’s wrong???” he groaned.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Yes,” said he. “Why?”

“It’s 8:15,” I said.

“No, it’s only 7:00 AM!  Go back to sleep.”

And so it was that the clock in the guest room was wrong.

It was wrong the day I thought I slept until 9AM and it was wrong the day I thought I lost Bill.

Although there was after all, a happy ending, I am furious and have further lost faith in anything electronic or digital.

I am convinced we need to regress to simpler times for wind up clocks with numbers that do not light up.

A horse and carriage would be nice too.

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What is She Dreaming?

I remember a sleeping Baby Jess

carrying Bunny One.

And here is my grown up grandgirl, Jess,

asleep once more in my home,

come for a visit  with leftover dreams

from a college inmates’ party.

How far away she seems,

dreaming of last night’s soiree.

 

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