Labor Day

I had wonderful fantasies of doing lots of thing around the house this past weekend. That included sitting down and writing a witty and amusing post. Unfortunately I had a lousy night Friday and got about 1 1/2 hours of sleep and woke up with a headache. I was conscious long enough Saturday morning to make Jimbob some coffee and then sat down in the recliner. Before I knew what had happened it was after 11:00 AM.

Herald and I had slept the morning away. A sixteen pound cat sleeping in your lap tends to put a few kinks in the old back. By then I didn't feel like doing any of the things I had on my agenda. I didn't do laundry, or clean the litter boxes or spread mulch in the yard...Or...Or...Or...

Most of Sunday was taken up by church, but at least I washed a load of underwear for me so I wouldn't have to turn them wrong side out to wear another day. I can't remember what else I did, but it must have been pretty boring.

Yesterday we had rain, glorious rain, ALL DAY LONG. It wasn't coming down very hard so Jimbob and I spread the mulch that has been setting in bags in the garage for the last six weeks. I couldn't believe my ears when he said he was going to help. That's the first (and probably the last time) he has ever helped me in the yard. I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO ACT.

We also made a trip over to Home Depot tp replace our 14 1/2 year old refrigerator that has joined the enemy camp. Regrigerators aren't cheap anymore and they don't even have a steering mechanism. Talk about sticker shock. But I figured I might as well get what I really wanted rather than settling for one I hated until I could afford the real thing.

Hey, what are credit cards for? It seems like a whole lot of other people were standing around waiting for someone to take their money, too. I guess they were waiting for a sale just like we were.

On another note, Jimbob's mother was supposed to be released from the hospital this last weekend and since I was the only one who was planning on being home, I was elected to care for her. Fortunately someone realized that we (I) can't care for her 24/7 like she needs. I can't give her physical therapy, and God forbid that she should fall. I'd have to call 911 just to get her up.

She is now in a rehab facility until she gets back on her feet. Back surgery on a 90 year old woman isn't minor. I don't say this to Jimbob, but I'd be surprised if she does recover. At least she understands that she can't go back to OK and live alone. I know it's hard to admit that your mother is getting old and has given up on life, but I don't want to kill myself caring for her either,

My mother is in the hosiptal waiting to get her pacemaker recharged. She went in Friday but didn't call my sister until late yesterday. She said she didn't want to bother anyone. I still think she's afraid were going to put her in an "old" folks home. In her words, "I don't want anything to do with all those old people!" According to Mom, 88 is middle age.

Not very exciting, or witty, or amusing, but at least I finally sat down to write SOMETHING. I'm going back now to watch Dirty Jobs on TV. It kind of makes you appreciate a desk job.

TTFN