Sunday May 4 2008

Stuck

This morning Joe woke me up saying I had to come and pull him out of a snowdrift. None of it made sense to anything I could think of. What snowdrift? Where? The only ones we have now are in the corral - how did he get stuck in the corral? What had gotten stuck? Red truck/ Yellow truck? The tractor he's been working on? He hadn't even told me he was going anywhere as usual. O.k. I put on some clothes and boots and he got the SUV out. And took him over to where he had the yellow Chevy stuck on Norm's road where there was a small drift left in a gully. The drift wasn't deep, but the snow had no traction I guess and the truck was just spinning out. There a small hill down both sides into the drift and he wanted me to pull him backwards up the hill. I wanted to get turned around and pull him with me going forward but had to do it his way. It didn't take much to hook up the chain and give him a pull out. Put the SUV in 4WD low range, and in reverse. My tires spun enough to smell like they were burning (which I hoped wasn't actually the transmission) so gave it another try and out he came.

Norm called last night and said he had turned our irrigation water on yesterday. So Joe was going over to our head gate beyond Norm's place on the hill to get it set. I was still sound asleep when he left. He had to walk home about a mile. That's the way the day started.

Yesterday I got quite a few more kitchen shelves cleaned including the big pantry. It feels good to be doing that - to feel ambitious enough to do it. I was tired last night though. I still hope I might get a lady to come and clean and do the heavy duty things. I found an old style glass coke bottle, full, on the back of one shelf that is a 1993 commemorative of the Colorado Rockies opening season. A coke truck crashed and someone picked some of the bottles up and gave me this one. I googled it and it looks like it's worth about $5.

Went to bed after dinner for a several hour nap and then got up and transcribed more letters from Nancy into the computer. One of her letters reminded me that bay mare Marge died when the Cannedy's bought the lodge, and they were going to make a rug out of her. (I talked them out of that.) Also that they were trapping all the beavers out of the lake and anywhere else nearby. Ten of the horses died (or disappeared) in the year the Cannedy's had the Lodge until we took it back, the worst among so many other bad things. Brings up sad and disgusting feelings.

Yesterday watched the Kentucky Derby and I HATE it when the horses are hurt, they are only babies. It's just not right to use them that way.

Also yesterday I got E.T. recorded on the DVR and am watching it this morning. Haven't watched it for years. Good movie. And they are also saying daddy longlegs spiders are quite venemous, but their fangs are too small to bite us. I always thought they were benign, so learn something new every day.

Tomorrow Judi and I will go to Jackson for the appointment to start the new chemo treatments. I'll let you know how it goes.

The poem below was on my email this morning so thought I'd share it. It came on The Writer's Almanac. Pretty funny.

Poem: "Posthumous" by Jean Nordhaus,

from Innocence. © Ohio State University Press, 2006.

.

Would it surprise you to learn

that years beyond your longest winter

you still get letters from your bank, your old

philanthropies, cold flakes drifting

through the mail-slot with your name?

Though it's been a long time since your face

interrupted the light in my door-frame,

and the last tremblings of your voice

have drained from my telephone wire,

from the lists of the likely, your name

is not missing. It circles in the shadow-world

of the machines, a wind-blown ghost. For generosity

will be exalted, and good credit

outlasts death. Caribbean cruises, recipes,

low-interest loans. For you who asked

so much of life, who lived acutely

even in duress, the brimming world

awaits your signature. Cancer and heart disease

are still counting on you for a cure.

B'nai Brith numbers you among the blessed.

They miss you. They want you back.