The first few days in the cast and shoulder harness I found the simple ordinary things a person does were very difficult. I didn't have much trouble braking an egg into the frying pan, but when I went to flip it over, I flipped it onto the floor. Solomon wouldn't lick it up, he's not partial to eggs like some cats are. I cleaned it up and tried again. I couldn't use a can opener, that takes two hands one to hold the can the other to turn the handle so I made sure all my cans had a pull type lid. I got pretty good at using my left hand, even down to writing my name was almost as good as my right hand.
Well, one night I woke up about 3:30 a.m. and had to go to the bathroom. So I took a magazine and sat down. Solomon sat in the doorway waiting for me. Since I live alone, I always leave the bathroom door open.
I read the whole magazine. I guess I had been sitting there for 20 or 30 minutes. I threw the magazine onto a stack of magazines on the right side of the commode. I replaced the toilet paper on the floor on the left side. I stood up and was pulling my pajamas up when I heard this hissing sound. I looked down. Good Night Almighty! There was a full set of gleaming teeth, and eyes glaring up at me, the monster of the night an opossum.
I kicked the cat out of the doorway and slammed the door trying to finish pulling up my pajamas with my left hand and running down the hall at the same time.
Solomon ran back to the bathroom door and was scratching on the door trying to get at the opossum and I thought I could hear the opossum scratching on the bathroom door trying to get out. I turned on all the lights, sat in my recliner and watched down the hall until dawn. The I called my landlord. He said he would be right over.
I know if I'd seen that thing when I was dropping my pajamas down there would have been a nasty trail all the way to my truck.
My landlord only lived about a mile away and he was there in about 10 minutes. He brought a bushel basket with a lid. He was going to capture it and turn it loose back in the woods. But, when he opened the bathroom door, it was GONE!
There was a small hole where the water line comes into the bathroom and the opossum must have gotten in through it and escaped the same way. The landlord said he would come back later in the day to fix the hole.
I told him I wouldn't be there, Sally was coming to take me to the doctor for a check up and then we were going grocery shopping. But I wouldn't mind if he FIXED the hole while I was gone.
Sally picked me up and I told her about the opossum. She couldn't stop laughing. We went to the doctors. He said my shoulder was mending well and set up physical therapy. We got my groceries then had a burger at McDonald's. It was late when we got back home.
I checked the hole. No, he hadn't fixed it. So, I found another good use for the famous silver duct tape. I taped that hole from here to next week, really closing it up good. It didn't look very good, I didn't really care. All I wanted was for the hole to be closed. An ant couldn't even get in now.
Patrick called to check on me and I told him about the opossum. He suggested I load the shot gun, and since I couldn't aim it, shoot from the hip. Now I pictured myself with a fractured hip or worse, maybe shooting my foot.
I assured him all the holes were closed.
I now leave all the lights on when I go to bed, and Solomon visits the bathroom frequently.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
The Fig Tree
I went to my girlfriend's house to pick figs.
I didn't curse the fig tree like Jesus did in the Bible. When he saw it and it looked like it was full of figs but when he checked it out it didn't have any according to Matthew 21:18 & 19. No, I cursed the fig tree because it had too many figs and they were all up on the high branches. I had to stretch and reach way up there to pick them.
I was reaching up picking my next one, I already had two in my hand when I should have been looking where I was walking. I stepped on a big round rock. It rolled right out from under my foot and I flipped upside down, bashoom! It looked like I did a swan dive into the dirt right onto my right shoulder. On my way down I hit my right wrist on a ladder that was leaning up against the house next to the tree. It seemed like all this happened in slow motion.
I thought I was dying. I have never known pain like that and I gave birth to two large babies. I couldn't move, not a little bit. The figs I had in my hand were smushed. Everyone in the neighborhood knew I had a loud voice because I was screaming for Jesus to HELP me.
My girlfriend dialed 911. The firehouse/rescue squad was right across the street. In only a few minutes the ambulance was there. I'm still on the ground screaming. I looked up and I know if I hadn't been hurting so bad I might have laughed. There standing before me were two young men, not weight lifters. I was sort of a heavy old lady (about 245). There was no way they could pick me up. I tried to be rational. Between screams, I suggested, "You guys are going to need reinforcements!" (And I swore I would loose weight if I lived.)
They agreed and called for back-up. The firehouse was right across the street. All the paramedics had to do was walk across the street, especially since the ambulance was already here. But Nooooo, they cranked up the fire truck and drove it with all the lights on and the siren blasting.
Three of the men lifted me on the left side and the other man held my right shoulder in place so I wouldn't damage it any more. They got me to my feet and helped me walk to the gurney. They carefully laid me on the gurney and strapped me down, and hoisted me into the back of the ambulance with the one who was holding my right arm. He was real cool about all this. They hauled me away to the hospital. The paramedic called ahead and advised the ER staff they were coming and to be ready. That was a real rough trip.
At the hospital they gave me a shot for pain. The ER doctor wanted to get a good X-ray of my shoulder and he knew he couldn't if I were in so much pain they couldn't hold my arm out long enough to shoot the picture. That shot didn't work. 30 minutes later they gave me another shot. That shot didn't work either. They didn't even notice my wrist was very black, they were more concerned with my shoulder.
The ER staff had called Sally when I first arrived and she got there right after the second shot. She made a frantic call to her daughter Jody, who just so happened to have been an ER nurse at this hospital for about a year before she moved to the hospital where she now works. She told Jody what had happened.
Then they gave me a third shot, morphine. Not even that would quell the pain in my shoulder. But they did manage to get a few good X-rays.
Jody called the ER staff and told them who she was and of course they remembered her. They told her what I damaged and she told Sally in people terms what was going on and what they were going to do. She also told Sally to leave my room even though the doctor had told her she could stay, Jody insisted for her mom to leave while they put my shoulder back in place.
I guess Sally was glad to leave. She seamed so aggravated with me for this happening. She had a few questions she wanted to ask me but couldn't because I was so incoherent.
I went to sleep. I don't know what they used, but out I went. When I woke up I was bound up in a shoulder harness and sling, and my wrist was splinted. There wasn't any pain any more.
Sally called Susie and told here about my mishap. Susie was immediately on her way to Sally's.
Sally took me to her house. Susie arrived shortly after we got there. I gave her my truck keys. She said her daughter Sara and her boy friend Matt would drive my truck home for me, since it didn't look like I would be driving any time soon. And the next day they would both take me to see the orthopedic specialist.
I slept in Sally's recliner. I didn't have any pain. I guess all those shots finally started working.
The orthopedic doctor got some really good pictures of my shoulder and wrist. The shoulder was dislocated and fractured, but the ER doctor had actually gotten it to go back in the socket perfectly. (I said a quiet prayer, Thank you Jesus) He put a better harness and sling on my shoulder and showed me how to take it off only to get dressed. And he put a real heavy cast on my arm.
After all that, Sally and Susie took me home to my cat Solomon.
I don't eat figs anymore!
I didn't curse the fig tree like Jesus did in the Bible. When he saw it and it looked like it was full of figs but when he checked it out it didn't have any according to Matthew 21:18 & 19. No, I cursed the fig tree because it had too many figs and they were all up on the high branches. I had to stretch and reach way up there to pick them.
I was reaching up picking my next one, I already had two in my hand when I should have been looking where I was walking. I stepped on a big round rock. It rolled right out from under my foot and I flipped upside down, bashoom! It looked like I did a swan dive into the dirt right onto my right shoulder. On my way down I hit my right wrist on a ladder that was leaning up against the house next to the tree. It seemed like all this happened in slow motion.
I thought I was dying. I have never known pain like that and I gave birth to two large babies. I couldn't move, not a little bit. The figs I had in my hand were smushed. Everyone in the neighborhood knew I had a loud voice because I was screaming for Jesus to HELP me.
My girlfriend dialed 911. The firehouse/rescue squad was right across the street. In only a few minutes the ambulance was there. I'm still on the ground screaming. I looked up and I know if I hadn't been hurting so bad I might have laughed. There standing before me were two young men, not weight lifters. I was sort of a heavy old lady (about 245). There was no way they could pick me up. I tried to be rational. Between screams, I suggested, "You guys are going to need reinforcements!" (And I swore I would loose weight if I lived.)
They agreed and called for back-up. The firehouse was right across the street. All the paramedics had to do was walk across the street, especially since the ambulance was already here. But Nooooo, they cranked up the fire truck and drove it with all the lights on and the siren blasting.
Three of the men lifted me on the left side and the other man held my right shoulder in place so I wouldn't damage it any more. They got me to my feet and helped me walk to the gurney. They carefully laid me on the gurney and strapped me down, and hoisted me into the back of the ambulance with the one who was holding my right arm. He was real cool about all this. They hauled me away to the hospital. The paramedic called ahead and advised the ER staff they were coming and to be ready. That was a real rough trip.
At the hospital they gave me a shot for pain. The ER doctor wanted to get a good X-ray of my shoulder and he knew he couldn't if I were in so much pain they couldn't hold my arm out long enough to shoot the picture. That shot didn't work. 30 minutes later they gave me another shot. That shot didn't work either. They didn't even notice my wrist was very black, they were more concerned with my shoulder.
The ER staff had called Sally when I first arrived and she got there right after the second shot. She made a frantic call to her daughter Jody, who just so happened to have been an ER nurse at this hospital for about a year before she moved to the hospital where she now works. She told Jody what had happened.
Then they gave me a third shot, morphine. Not even that would quell the pain in my shoulder. But they did manage to get a few good X-rays.
Jody called the ER staff and told them who she was and of course they remembered her. They told her what I damaged and she told Sally in people terms what was going on and what they were going to do. She also told Sally to leave my room even though the doctor had told her she could stay, Jody insisted for her mom to leave while they put my shoulder back in place.
I guess Sally was glad to leave. She seamed so aggravated with me for this happening. She had a few questions she wanted to ask me but couldn't because I was so incoherent.
I went to sleep. I don't know what they used, but out I went. When I woke up I was bound up in a shoulder harness and sling, and my wrist was splinted. There wasn't any pain any more.
Sally called Susie and told here about my mishap. Susie was immediately on her way to Sally's.
Sally took me to her house. Susie arrived shortly after we got there. I gave her my truck keys. She said her daughter Sara and her boy friend Matt would drive my truck home for me, since it didn't look like I would be driving any time soon. And the next day they would both take me to see the orthopedic specialist.
I slept in Sally's recliner. I didn't have any pain. I guess all those shots finally started working.
The orthopedic doctor got some really good pictures of my shoulder and wrist. The shoulder was dislocated and fractured, but the ER doctor had actually gotten it to go back in the socket perfectly. (I said a quiet prayer, Thank you Jesus) He put a better harness and sling on my shoulder and showed me how to take it off only to get dressed. And he put a real heavy cast on my arm.
After all that, Sally and Susie took me home to my cat Solomon.
I don't eat figs anymore!
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Hunter's Chili
A few weeks after the trail ride Bug asked me to make him a kettle of chili for a deer hunt. He, Danny and Patrick, his brothers and their sons were all going deer hunting. Only, he didn't want me to use venison he wanted me to use raccoon!
I had a small fit. Finally, I decided I could substitute the venison with the raccoon if he had it ground up like the venison. He told me he had the raccoon meat ready. I prepared the chili. I used all the same ingredients, green peppers, onions, celery, kidney beans, tomatoes and tomato sauce. Since the weather was much colder now, I added extra red pepper flakes. I cooked it for about an hour or so and took out two bowls of no meat chili for myself. I browned the ground raccoon, then added it to the chili. I simmered it for hours.
I helped Bug carry the kettle full of chili out to his truck. They left about 4:00 a.m. Danny and Patrick were all excited about the hunt. Then I thought about the extra pepper flakes, I didn't really chuckle hard but I did chuckle a little as I watched them go out the driveway.
They met the brothers and nephews at their camp site. The brothers decided where their sons would hunt. The hunt was important, but the safety of the kids was more important. Then they decided to meet back at the camp around 10:00 a.m. and Bug would have the chili hot.
It was very cold, the temperature about 10 degrees above zero. The hunters came out of the woods one by one really cold and ready for the hot chili and a drink of brandy.
Bug had come back a little earlier than the rest and had the chili on the camp stove piping hot. The paper bowls, plastic spoons and box of saltines were all sitting on the tailgate READY!
He ladled out a bowl for each one as they stood before him. They started eating.
"Whew, this is toooo spicy hot," one brother grumbled and ate another spoonful.
They complained about the heat, too much pepper, but still they ate. (Well, maybe I did put tooooo much red pepper flakes in it.)
Patrick told me, "Mom, you should have seen them eating, complaining and all of a sudden, sweating." It seems that they had sweat coming off their brows by the time they finished. They ate the whole kettle.
The RESULTS: No deer were bagged this day. By late afternoon the men were all sort of gasious. Danny said, "Mom, you could hear them, Uncle Tom over here, Uncle Carl over there and Uncle Albert way back there. They were very noisy.
They didn't ask me to cook the chili again. Bug's brother Albert has had his wife Susan prepare the chili since that time. Her chili is great,but not as ready HOT as mine.
I had a small fit. Finally, I decided I could substitute the venison with the raccoon if he had it ground up like the venison. He told me he had the raccoon meat ready. I prepared the chili. I used all the same ingredients, green peppers, onions, celery, kidney beans, tomatoes and tomato sauce. Since the weather was much colder now, I added extra red pepper flakes. I cooked it for about an hour or so and took out two bowls of no meat chili for myself. I browned the ground raccoon, then added it to the chili. I simmered it for hours.
I helped Bug carry the kettle full of chili out to his truck. They left about 4:00 a.m. Danny and Patrick were all excited about the hunt. Then I thought about the extra pepper flakes, I didn't really chuckle hard but I did chuckle a little as I watched them go out the driveway.
They met the brothers and nephews at their camp site. The brothers decided where their sons would hunt. The hunt was important, but the safety of the kids was more important. Then they decided to meet back at the camp around 10:00 a.m. and Bug would have the chili hot.
It was very cold, the temperature about 10 degrees above zero. The hunters came out of the woods one by one really cold and ready for the hot chili and a drink of brandy.
Bug had come back a little earlier than the rest and had the chili on the camp stove piping hot. The paper bowls, plastic spoons and box of saltines were all sitting on the tailgate READY!
He ladled out a bowl for each one as they stood before him. They started eating.
"Whew, this is toooo spicy hot," one brother grumbled and ate another spoonful.
They complained about the heat, too much pepper, but still they ate. (Well, maybe I did put tooooo much red pepper flakes in it.)
Patrick told me, "Mom, you should have seen them eating, complaining and all of a sudden, sweating." It seems that they had sweat coming off their brows by the time they finished. They ate the whole kettle.
The RESULTS: No deer were bagged this day. By late afternoon the men were all sort of gasious. Danny said, "Mom, you could hear them, Uncle Tom over here, Uncle Carl over there and Uncle Albert way back there. They were very noisy.
They didn't ask me to cook the chili again. Bug's brother Albert has had his wife Susan prepare the chili since that time. Her chili is great,but not as ready HOT as mine.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The Tall Ship
The trip also provided juice and donuts for us on the bus.
There was a lot of excitement about going sailing on this ship. The driver dropped us off near the dock. He told all of us before he opened the door to be back promptly at 3:00 p.m. or we might have a long hike home. (He acted like he was annoyed with us or maybe he had a lot of stress from listening to all our noise.) Then he opened the door and we hurried off the bus and down to the dock.
Bug was still a little apprehensive about all this until he saw the boat (ship). All of a sudden he became Peter Pan and this was Captain Hook's ship. I thought of the Mayflower and I heard others comparing it to Columbus' ships the Nina, the Pinta, or the Santa Maria.
The Captain had everyone wait in the main part of the boat while he explained the safety precautions, life preservers and the working of the ship. He also advised us they had a snack counter with all kinds of goodies and a "CASH" Bar. He asked for volunteers to help pull the heavy ropes and hoist the sails into place, so we would weigh anchor. Then he dismissed us to move about the boat as we wished.
Bug and Susie were the first to volunteer. There was 30 others that helped. "Heave too!" the Captain yelled. Up went the sails.
What a glorious feeling. We went to the top deck and waved good by to all the people standing on the pier.
I believe this sailing ship was larger than the Mayflower. I imagined sailing across the Atlantic to the America's and landing at what is now Plymouth, Ma. Those people had to be so courageous. I was having a nerve problem just sailing in the Chesapeake Bay.
Sally took a lot of pictures with her good camera. She then purchased mai tai which must have been a doosey because she got one of those smile that you could not erase. And she took more pictures.
We sailed past Ft. McHenry. I asked her, "Did you get any pictures of the Fort?"
She answered with that smile, "Yes, I got several shots of Fort Sumntner."
"Sally, just what kind of lens did you use?" I asked her, knowing that fort was in South Carolina.
She realized what she had said and answered, "A VERY STRONG one," and laughed.
We sailed out into the Chesapeake Bay for over and hour then came about and headed back. Just watching those huge white sails and the ship going through the water gave me such a feeling of freedom.
Since we were riding back on the bus and Susie was driving home, Sally decided to have another mai tai, the rest of us drank bottled water and soft drinks.
When we returned the Captain asked for the volunteers to man the ropes and lower the sails. Bug and Susie went back to the ropes as we watched the sails come down and were folded and tucked as if we hadn't ever moved. The crew on this ship was really good. We all shook the Captain's hand upon leaving the ship.
There was about an hour or so to use before boarding the bus so Bug and I went to an ice cream parlor and had the best ice cream ever. The rest of the group went shopping.
We all finally got back on the bus. We almost left Carol and Vivian, they were the last ones to get back (Carol's always late). Bug sat with Glenna and I took one whole seat to myself and slept all the way back.
Sally and Susie had a great time. We all decided we wanted to do this again someday.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
The Drug Dealer?
Bug and Danny were were swapping out a motor from his '79 Ford F250. Bug's truck was his baby. Since Danny, our older son was home on leave from the Navy and I was at work he chose this Sunday to do it.
They had the new motor hanging by a heavy chain from the limb of the huge oak tree in our front yard. He wasn't a back yard mechanic, he was a front yard mechanic.
"Danny, look," he said and pointed at the shinny white Jaguar with New York plates coming up our driveway. Our driveway was more for trucks than fancy cars. He was driving very slowly. He parked the car near the truck.
Bug, a man of slight build, who has had cancer most of his adult life, was not afraid of anything or anyone. Danny, on the other hand was tough looking with muscles on top of muscles, the Navy had made him that way. They were both wearing those bibbed denim coveralls and were all greasy. They just looked like ol' hillbillies.
The two men in the Jag got out and walked over to the front of the truck. They were both very large men. The driver said, "we're from the Bronx, where's so and so," the previous renters. He had a threatening tone.
Bug never took his eyes off those two. "Mister, we just moved here. We don't know those people." He answered them with authority.
"They owe us a lot of money," the driver said.
"What for," Bug asked? I don't think he was ready for the answer.
"We came all the way down here to pick up our drug money," was his smart answer.
If it's anything Bug hated more than a Northerner it was a Northerner selling drugs. That was a fact.
"Mister, I told you before I don't know them and I would suggest you get back in that fancy car and git out of here," Bug said.
That guy got real nasty, his tone of voice threatening stated, "___ ___, you don't know who I am!"
Bug hit the ball right back in his court, just a little bit harder. "Bud, NO, you don't know who I am." Then he added, "I bet nobody knows you're here."
"No," he answered.
"You're back here on this farm, one way in, and nobody knows you're here. Nobody will ever find you down here in this swamp. I'll part that car out in less than a week. When somebody does come looking they won't find you or that car. Now, I'm telling you to git the hell out of here. Take that drug business and ram it." Of course Danny was standing behind Bug holding a large wrench.
Those men started towards their car. Bug ran into the house returning with with his 12 gauge persuader.
The driver turned the key about the time Bug fired off a round into the air. They took off, even though the road was only good for pickups. They were going pretty good down the driveway and out of sight around the bend at the bottom of the hill. BUT!
I had been working and now as usual when I hit the driveway I didn't slow down. I was barreling around the second bend and almost ran head on into the Jaguar. I slammed on my brakes and stopped. They stopped also. I could see the two men inside. They looked like they were arguing about something. I was figuring on them backing back to the house since the distance to the house was shorter than for me to back back out of the driveway. So I motioned for them to back up.
That driver put that car in reverse and backed up faster than anyone I'd ever seen and I followed them back into the front yard. I pulled around them when I got close to the tree. About that time, Bug raised his shotgun again.
The driver slammed on his brakes, put the car in drive and flew out our driveway as Bug fired off another round into the air.
THEY NEVER CAME BACK!
They had the new motor hanging by a heavy chain from the limb of the huge oak tree in our front yard. He wasn't a back yard mechanic, he was a front yard mechanic.
"Danny, look," he said and pointed at the shinny white Jaguar with New York plates coming up our driveway. Our driveway was more for trucks than fancy cars. He was driving very slowly. He parked the car near the truck.
Bug, a man of slight build, who has had cancer most of his adult life, was not afraid of anything or anyone. Danny, on the other hand was tough looking with muscles on top of muscles, the Navy had made him that way. They were both wearing those bibbed denim coveralls and were all greasy. They just looked like ol' hillbillies.
The two men in the Jag got out and walked over to the front of the truck. They were both very large men. The driver said, "we're from the Bronx, where's so and so," the previous renters. He had a threatening tone.
Bug never took his eyes off those two. "Mister, we just moved here. We don't know those people." He answered them with authority.
"They owe us a lot of money," the driver said.
"What for," Bug asked? I don't think he was ready for the answer.
"We came all the way down here to pick up our drug money," was his smart answer.
If it's anything Bug hated more than a Northerner it was a Northerner selling drugs. That was a fact.
"Mister, I told you before I don't know them and I would suggest you get back in that fancy car and git out of here," Bug said.
That guy got real nasty, his tone of voice threatening stated, "___ ___, you don't know who I am!"
Bug hit the ball right back in his court, just a little bit harder. "Bud, NO, you don't know who I am." Then he added, "I bet nobody knows you're here."
"No," he answered.
"You're back here on this farm, one way in, and nobody knows you're here. Nobody will ever find you down here in this swamp. I'll part that car out in less than a week. When somebody does come looking they won't find you or that car. Now, I'm telling you to git the hell out of here. Take that drug business and ram it." Of course Danny was standing behind Bug holding a large wrench.
Those men started towards their car. Bug ran into the house returning with with his 12 gauge persuader.
The driver turned the key about the time Bug fired off a round into the air. They took off, even though the road was only good for pickups. They were going pretty good down the driveway and out of sight around the bend at the bottom of the hill. BUT!
I had been working and now as usual when I hit the driveway I didn't slow down. I was barreling around the second bend and almost ran head on into the Jaguar. I slammed on my brakes and stopped. They stopped also. I could see the two men inside. They looked like they were arguing about something. I was figuring on them backing back to the house since the distance to the house was shorter than for me to back back out of the driveway. So I motioned for them to back up.
That driver put that car in reverse and backed up faster than anyone I'd ever seen and I followed them back into the front yard. I pulled around them when I got close to the tree. About that time, Bug raised his shotgun again.
The driver slammed on his brakes, put the car in drive and flew out our driveway as Bug fired off another round into the air.
THEY NEVER CAME BACK!
Friday, December 10, 2010
The FROG
Patrick got home from work at 2:00a.m. He quickly changed into his sweats and decided to have a sandwich and some coffee. He noticed a van sitting beside his house with the headlights on. The van was just sitting there in the road with the motor humming. A big question mark arose in his head. What the heck's going on. Who would be stopped in the middle of the street? Then he heard the doors slam. He looked out and could see three people standing there in the dark beside the van. With that, he eased out his back door, hugging the side of his house. He knew they couldn't see him. He kept staring into the darkness. He watched, taking short breaths so they wouldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest.
There, he could tell the taller person was a lady and the other two were young girls, but he couldn't see what they were doing. He watched intently. Then the lady moved a little and he could see it. The largest FROG he had ever seen. The lady was stooping down to grab it.
He crept up behind them. They were so involved in catching the frog, they never heard Patrick. Just about the time the lady grabbed the frog, he said in the deepest tone he could muster, "DID YOU GET 'EM?"
The lady grabbed the frog, and jumped into the van. The girls jumped into the creek beside the road, all screaming for their lives.
Patrick fell down onto the road laughing. Then he realized how much he had scared them. He walked to the lady's van, knocked on the window. He said with a big grin, he was sorry. He tried not to laugh, but couldn't help himself. He apologized again. By now she knew he didn't mean them any harm and she laughed too.
Her daughters didn't laugh, they were all wet. They were really mad at him.
"Well, you saved the FROG. What are you going to do with him?" he asked her.
She told him "I'm going to put him back into the creek, and finish my job.
I'm the newspaper lady. My daughters were trying to help me tonight deliver the papers, and look at them all soaked."
Patrick apologized again. He told her all he saw was a parked van in front of his house and heard the doors open and close. He didn't know who they were. Of course he watches for them every night when he gets home and now waves to them daily.
There, he could tell the taller person was a lady and the other two were young girls, but he couldn't see what they were doing. He watched intently. Then the lady moved a little and he could see it. The largest FROG he had ever seen. The lady was stooping down to grab it.
He crept up behind them. They were so involved in catching the frog, they never heard Patrick. Just about the time the lady grabbed the frog, he said in the deepest tone he could muster, "DID YOU GET 'EM?"
The lady grabbed the frog, and jumped into the van. The girls jumped into the creek beside the road, all screaming for their lives.
Patrick fell down onto the road laughing. Then he realized how much he had scared them. He walked to the lady's van, knocked on the window. He said with a big grin, he was sorry. He tried not to laugh, but couldn't help himself. He apologized again. By now she knew he didn't mean them any harm and she laughed too.
Her daughters didn't laugh, they were all wet. They were really mad at him.
"Well, you saved the FROG. What are you going to do with him?" he asked her.
She told him "I'm going to put him back into the creek, and finish my job.
I'm the newspaper lady. My daughters were trying to help me tonight deliver the papers, and look at them all soaked."
Patrick apologized again. He told her all he saw was a parked van in front of his house and heard the doors open and close. He didn't know who they were. Of course he watches for them every night when he gets home and now waves to them daily.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Trailride Chili
One of my early day trips was a 25 mile trail ride. Unfortunately I wasn't able to ride. I had an on the job injury. I didn't think workman's compensation would believe I was hurt if I road on this 25 mile trail ride. I knew my body couldn't handle it either.
I decided to do the tailgate party. My menu was a huge kettle of venison chili, saltine crackers, cheese, lots of hot coffee and pie. Since this was the last trail ride of the year and the temperature was very cold I knew they would appreciate the hot chili.
I prepared the chili at home. I put lots of green bell peppers, celery, onions, garlic, several cans of tomatoes and tomato sauce, 2 of those large cans of red kidney beans and about 4 pounds of ground venison. Of course I never measure the spices. I added lots of chili powder and just a little red pepper (just a LITTLE)! I cooked it for several hours. Those ingredients blended into one of my best chili's ever . I had Bug help me carry the kettle out to the truck. He secured it so it wouldn't turn over and spill, then he gave me instructions on how to use the camp stove. He advised me to get someone to help me lift the kettle onto the burners since it was so heavy and full.
I asked a man at the trail ride to help me set up my tailgate. He was waiting for his wife to come in on her horse and had plenty of time to help. He was very helpful. I invited him and his wife to join us. He declined when I told him the chili was made with venison. I thanked him. He hurried back to his van, got inside and turned on the motor to get warmed up. It was so cold outside.
My friends, Joe and Dottie, a couple from my job rode their horses, Joe's cross bred, Dottie's a most beautiful Arabian and my friend Carol rode her fancy Thoroughbred. They looked great riding into the camp area of the trail ride. My feelings were hurt because I couldn't ride. Carol was first, then came Dottie, and Joe brought up the rear of our little group. I helped them with their horses.
They were hovering around the kettle. I ladled out a bowl of chili into a large paper bowl. I had bought a package of them at the grocery. Joe took the bowl and scooped up 2 big bites. I told him, "Joe before you eat any more, I have to tell you I made the chili with ground venison."
He said, "Frances, I don't want to hear that, I don't eat venison."
I assured him I used real ground venison. I told him if he didn't like it he could eat the pie and coffee. No, he tasted it again and again and before long that bowl was gone. He ate 4 bowls. Dottie and Carol also ate their fill. What I didn't expect was that several other people, people I didn't know invited themselves to our tailgate and ate too. Not only did they eat, there wasn't any left to take back home. All those folks told me they were glad I wasn't riding so I could be the chuck wagon cook. They wanted me to come back next year, and cook again.
I decided to do the tailgate party. My menu was a huge kettle of venison chili, saltine crackers, cheese, lots of hot coffee and pie. Since this was the last trail ride of the year and the temperature was very cold I knew they would appreciate the hot chili.
I prepared the chili at home. I put lots of green bell peppers, celery, onions, garlic, several cans of tomatoes and tomato sauce, 2 of those large cans of red kidney beans and about 4 pounds of ground venison. Of course I never measure the spices. I added lots of chili powder and just a little red pepper (just a LITTLE)! I cooked it for several hours. Those ingredients blended into one of my best chili's ever . I had Bug help me carry the kettle out to the truck. He secured it so it wouldn't turn over and spill, then he gave me instructions on how to use the camp stove. He advised me to get someone to help me lift the kettle onto the burners since it was so heavy and full.
I asked a man at the trail ride to help me set up my tailgate. He was waiting for his wife to come in on her horse and had plenty of time to help. He was very helpful. I invited him and his wife to join us. He declined when I told him the chili was made with venison. I thanked him. He hurried back to his van, got inside and turned on the motor to get warmed up. It was so cold outside.
They were hovering around the kettle. I ladled out a bowl of chili into a large paper bowl. I had bought a package of them at the grocery. Joe took the bowl and scooped up 2 big bites. I told him, "Joe before you eat any more, I have to tell you I made the chili with ground venison."
He said, "Frances, I don't want to hear that, I don't eat venison."
I assured him I used real ground venison. I told him if he didn't like it he could eat the pie and coffee. No, he tasted it again and again and before long that bowl was gone. He ate 4 bowls. Dottie and Carol also ate their fill. What I didn't expect was that several other people, people I didn't know invited themselves to our tailgate and ate too. Not only did they eat, there wasn't any left to take back home. All those folks told me they were glad I wasn't riding so I could be the chuck wagon cook. They wanted me to come back next year, and cook again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)