Come and Listen to a Story......

Drummer Boy is helping clean up the yard and removing items that hold water, lessening the mosquito population.  Bless his heart, he's working hard to be diplomatic and let me have the say in such matters.  Why in the world would anyone want that pitiful piece of plastic attracting biting skeeters in their yard?
Because, everything has a story.

I so know you can't see this gorgeous dumpling as well as you want to. If you click on her picture, she'll be bigger.

When you don't have a tractor, you jump on the next best thing.

A friend passed this along to me when her girls were finished with it. Pap promptly bought a new battery and had it charged before each visit.  Bean and Ol' Henry were two and not quite two when we became the proud owners. They were so little that we had to chase them to keep them from driving into the road or creek. They imagined all sorts of things and it was my joy to watch them pretend to talk on the CB and listen to songs on the radio and fix their truck.  How many miles were put on that little truck, how many memories?  I had no idea how many little drivers would arrive in quick succession. When I look at these pictures I again feel like my heart has been pinched and I marvel at how they could be so big already.

Still, it has more than served its purpose, and I will let it go. Certainly though, in the meantime, it has been quite a conversation starter, as we visit on the front porch,  that mostly ends with someone whistling a tune to the Beverly Hillbillies.  Yep, that would be us.

Today was a happy (as one can be in these dire straits) doctor visit.  The kidney doctor is hand's down the Crown Prince of Doctors.  I was actually glad to go- a heretofore unheard of opinion.  If there were a dictionary entry for perfect doctor specimen, there he would be.  I went in confident he would tell me whatever is happening, no drama, and in all ways be kind.  Add to all that a wait in the office of five minutes, a wait in the examining room for five minutes. Crown Prince, I'm telling ya.

He was glad Handy Man is experiencing no further trouble, no swelling. He explained to him why he continues to have red areas on his legs and what to do about it. He mentioned Handy Man's Jesus branch and left us with this, "I believe there is reason to hope that this can be fixed."  Umm, can I just kiss your face?  While I realize that the good doctor might not appreciate that, he has no way of knowing that I'm not the face kissing kind, and how he just impresses the heck out of me.

A little more spring in Handy Man's step, coming out. 

We had some errands that ended at the Kroger finding some low sodium treats.  I told Handy Man we would have to find a place to hide them from all our little snackers.

Each day Handy Man gets a card or two and so enjoys hearing from everyone.  Another friend called and is bringing some soup.  My sister left a message that said all the right things and then, "blah, blah,blah, " that made us laugh.  

Oh, and there was a message from me. I'm attempting to go back to work some.  I imagine Handy Man gets weary of me standing over the top of him. I'm not finding it an easy thing to do.

I've been thinking a lot of Mom.  I was eleven, Mom in her forties when my Dad had a cerebral hemorrhage. He never drove or worked, in any capacity, ever again.  I have a much clearer understanding of what she must have experienced.  During that time, she went to see the doctor.  She came home and gave the doc's report.  " You are as neurotic as Hell."  I remember being so shocked that a doctor would use a bad word.  I didn't really even understand what neurotic meant.  Well, now I do. The apple doesn't fall from the tree.  I shared with Handy Man that this would never work, me going back to the classroom,  unless he texted me often.  While our phones don't work in the house, they do work in certain places around the house. Go ahead, now you can hum Green Acres.  I told him that since he had to walk every two hours, he could call or text me on his walk.  Well today he texted, I returned a message that needed a response, didn't get one.  Texted again-nothing. Called the landline, no one answered. So right before I'm ready to fly out the door, stomach churning, he texted.    The reason he didn't respond to the one message, he didn't get it until after we'd been to the doctor.  So, color me neurotic.

I was able to leave my class with Gardener E. entertaining them with fun art.  Then another retired teacher friend, Gardener ML,  is faithful to come once a week and hang it all up. Such a blessing.

So, while we wait to see where this is headed, we laugh at every laughable thing, we walk, we talk about hard things neither of us want to talk about,  we pray and are thankful when we wake up each morning,  here in this unexpected story.