Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Thinking about Mama at the Eighth Fence Post

Dear John,
 
It's been an action-packed day off, and it's not 4:00 yet.
 
We slept in this morning. For some reason, everybody slept in a mound last night. Jethro was beside me, Hunter on my ribs, and Abby on my knees. I was sore from shoveling yesterday and it was nice to have three heating pads.
 
I had errands to run today - I got dressed to go to the bank, deposit my paycheck, get my IDs out of the safe deposit box, and then go to Fairfield and fill out my sub paperwork. I had breakfast and prayer time - and a lovely cup of chai tea - then realized that Jethro had been outside for way too long. He got over the east side of the fence this time. And he wasn't interested in coming back because Craig was plowing his driveway and Terry was spreading manure, and the neighborhood was just too entertaining.
 
Grumpy Cat ponders the weather forecast.
Or reads Eugene O'Neill. It's hard to tell which.
So I changed into work clothes and went out to shovel the back yard. I cleared snow from all of the south fence, all the east fence, and about a quarter of the north fence. In between talking to passing neighbors, there was nothing to do but count the fence posts and multiply by six feet, so I know that I cleared 120 feet of fence. While I was shoveling, Jethro came back, climbed the fence into the yard, and back out, and back in again. That let me know exactly how much snow he needed in order to get over the fence, which was good, but it wasn't much, which wasn't so good, so I kept on shoveling.
 
Anyway, the snow around the fence is cleared. It's sunny and in the 40s today so the snow is wet and heavy. I was thinking about that while I was shoveling, and that middle-aged people shouldn't be shoveling it, realized that I'm 58 now, and that I just passed a free stress test. (I still think I'm 35, then I look in the mirror and wonder what on earth happened.) So I got my cardio and weight training for the day, and must be in better shape than I thought.
 
I got done and we came back in, and I sniffed and smelled horse manure. Jethro had rolled in what Terry was spreading, of course. So we went off to the bathroom for more cardio. I gave the dog a bath, then cleaned out the tub, then cleaned out the tub drain, then cleaned the rest of the bathroom, then started a load of laundry with clothes and dog towels in it. Then I had lunch.
 
At this moment, the animals are all asleep in the sun, jeans and towels are in the dryer, the bathroom is spotless, and every inch of me hurts. And I never did get to the bank, much less to Fairfield. But they will still be there, and the dog is safe and clean, and all is well. It's supposed to be near 50 and raining tomorrow, so the snow will start melting and the basements will fill up and the roads will be blocked by standing water and we'll all drown. The county sheriff's office put out a bulletin today about where to go to get sandbags. I don't believe I've ever seen that particular bulletin before. My childhood did not prepare me for any of this, except for the extent to which my mother's calm assurance in her own competence prepared me to handle whatever came along. Please thank her for me, and tell her that I was thinking about her as I passed the eighth fence post.
 
Since you took care of the basement and put in the sump pump, we should be dry here. I'll keep an eye on things but I don't expect any excitement. I do believe we've had enough excitement for a while. As you and I always did, I find myself wondering if I'd like boredom - I have never had the opportunity to try it. I fear that is unlikely to change.
 
Well, that's enough for one day off, isn't it? I may join the critters and take a nap in the sun. And no matter what happens tomorrow, I can swim.
 
Love you, adore you, worship the ground you walk on,
Joan.

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