.. a very old turtle.  That's me on many days.  A slow starter and sometimes no finisher.  It's Tuesday  so no swim and that should mean I can get out in the yard and tend to something.  So far it hasn't happened.  

I'll catch you up on Mother's Day.   Mass, then home to cook a simple meal.   Had phone calls and cards from kids, and yesterday  I got two packages at the post office, and another card.  Molly and Kelli sent the Miracle Ball Method because they knew I wanted it to see if it might help my achy places of which I have quite a few.   Stephen sent the cutest Fat Cat statue.  Of course I love it all.  I got hand gardening tools from Clayton and Elaine a few days ago.   I sure do get lonesome for that bunch.  

I ordered a new book for my Kindle this morning.  I sure do enjoy that gadget.   Book is "Chase the Wild Pigeons", about the Civil War.   

Well, that garden stuff isn't going to do itself.  

Remember that old song "Dry bones, dry as a bone ...."?    That's most of Texas.   Lots of wild fires too.   Weather  is really acting up this year, flooding out some, drought causing all sorts of problems, and all that snow up north that just about froze everyone to death.  All I can say is how thankful we are to have a good home and good heating and cooling.   I was born here and can take our weather but now as well as when I was younger.

It's hard to believe that Easter is almost here.   Time just picks me up and drags me along, kicking and screaming.    Gray hair and wrinkles are the norm and my middle keeps expanding, but hey the gray hair and wrinkles keep people from thinking I am pregnant.   Heaven forbid!    A baby would kill me.   Poor little thing.   I know I would forget where I put him.

We are about back to normal.   Normal for us, that is.  Gordon still has a great deal of pain, but he is over the operation.    I know if he would stick with physical therapy he would feel better in the long run, but he says he hurts too much to do it.  And the oncologist wants to see him too about the suspicious lesions on his lungs but he is not ready to face that either.   So we will take it day by day and see what happens,.

I have had a busy couplke oif days, early rising, running through the days and being exhausted by nightfall.    We had doc apppontments, haircuts, errands, meals, etc., and no rest for my wicked bones.    Thank goodness I sleep well at night.    I ease my aches with meds and practically go into a coma for hours.   

Yesterday after grocery shopping and tending to house chores, I showered Gordon and then went out and bought a gas grill.    Our old one bit the dust a couple of years ago and I really did miss cooking out but Gordon seemed to think it was not a necessity and he figured I couldn't handle the propane tanks and the upkeep, etc. yada yada yada.  Finally, I talked him into it and it is to be delivered and set up tomorrow afternoon.   I hope to grill a chicken and maybe some ribs for Easter Sunday lunch.    I will be a happy cook.

I wish for you, my loyal readers, all  dozen of you, or at least you are the only ones to comment or email me, a happy and holy Easter. .   Not to mind, those of you who read can stay in the shadows as long as I know that someone, even if it is only one, gets something out of my writing.  Maybe this snap will make you smile.

This is Rumpie or Fatso as Gordon calls her.    She loves the new crate so much that some mornings she will stay in longer and stay perched on one of the shelves. 

Well it seems there isn't a way to insert my snap.   I'll attach it to my notify email. 

Have you ever been to a  three ring circus where  something different is going on in each ring?  And all around the rings, there is a parade of performers and animals, a band and a barker calling our attention to the acts on the high wire and trapeze above us.

Gordon has been admitted to a supposedly high end nursing facility where he is to recieve 20 days of physical therapy.     The foyer is beautiful.   A huge fish tank, beautiful furnishings, and a pleasant potpourri perfume gives one the idea of a posh hotel.   The offices are nice too, dark bookshelves, shiny desks, family photos all around.

Turn a corner and here is the truth.   It's a sucky nursing home.   

The circus part comes when you begin to deal with the staff.   Oh, I am not saying they are all circus freaks, only the majority of them.   I have worked nursing homes so I am very loud when my patient is not getting the care he needs.    I complained of a microwave in their little "kitchen" that was so dirty I didn't dare put Gordon's food to heat in it.    After a day of repeated complaints, somehow it was magically clean.   

Oh, and the food is inedible so I am going twice a day with food from home. He will eat the oatmeal on the breakfast tray, but I bring two other meals from home,

This post could be much longer, my friends, but it's already after 10 and I am dead on my feet.   Good night to you all.       

I am much too tired to elaborate, but suffice to say, Gordon has been in St Mary hospital since the 3rd, had surgery to repair a huge bleeding ulcer on the next day and may be moved to a private room today if all his docs agree to it.   He is healing ok, but has severe ICU psychosis and is pretty much out of his head.   He won't eat because everything tastes bad to him. Every time I come home, I nap.   I go for several half hour visits every day.  

More later

I had a dream last night.

I was driving up and down old Port Arthur’s streets, seeing empty buildings, pot holed streets, and aimless people who looked for all the world to be homeless. It’s a depressing sight for someone who remembers when it was a nice little town full of hopeful people, hardworking souls who came from all around the world.

I suddenly saw my mother and father, arguing or talking heatedly with an old man who looked suspiciously like a character actor from an old western movie I watched a few nights ago. They slipped from view as they went into one of the buildings that was being refurbished. I got out of the car and followed them on foot.

The scene before me after entering the building neither surprised me or frightened me, only filled me with joy at seeing my parents who in real life have been gone many, many years.

A makeshift table was set, made of saw horses and plywood and there sat Daddy and the character man, while Mama happily sliced an apple pie and gave them each a piece. I ran in and took my seat on a nail keg and asked for my piece. Daddy asked me what I was doing there and I told him I had seen a piece in the paper about several town projects that seemed to be shady and he told me he was warning character man about the same shady people.

Daddy looked so good! His broad smile and watery blue eyes brought tears to my own eyes at seeing him so happy. Mama, wearing one of her home made aprons looked the same as when she left and her pie tasted so good to me. Character man was gone by then and I woke up, thinking I was still sitting at the table eating pie with my parents.

How can a dream be so vivid and real? Daddy died in November of 82 and Mama followed him in November of 91. They were wonderful people who raised my sister and I to have good morals and to be strong of character and now I will forever see them as sitting in heaven eating apple pie and still loving each other for all eternity.