Sorry to be out of touch. I’ve had my hands full taking care of Ed. And last week he had to make an emergency trip to the hospital. He’s still there. They drained his lungs, they did tests, he will need oxygen at home. He is impatient. I don’t know how he will pursue his guardian duties with portable oxygen. Knowing him, he’ll find a way. He will be released tomorrow, unless they find another reason to keep him. I’ve been traveling to the hospital every day to stay with him, getting home around 5:30. Sol isn’t living with us anymore, but made herself available. She made me stay home today and took over bedside duties at the hospital. Bless her.
Last time I wrote was in January. Laura and her guy, Robert, were here and they are coming again later this month, or in early May. I’m glad their schedule changed. The “season” will be over in a week or so and that means that the traffic jams won’t be an issue because the snowbirds will be going back to West Bumf’k as Ed likes to say.
I am slowly improving but still have fatigue when I do chores. Tomorrow is trash day, so at some point today I have to gather it all and put it at the curb. It’s a chore and wears me out. Laura wants me to make a list of things I need done. Well, I am not inclined to do that. But, knowing her, she’ll find something.
There’s a huge pottery place off of Burnt Store Road (don’t you love that name?) and I’ll take her there. Acres and acres of urns and pots. She’ll love it. Billy Bowlegs (Calusa tribe) burned the store down. He was pissed off about something. And ever since that event, the road the store was on has been known as Burnt Store Road.
There’s also a yearly contest called the mullet toss. The mullet is a fish. The competitors culled from the duh crowd, toss frozen fish. I am against disrespecting wild life for a stupid contest. I’d rather freeze the contestants and toss THEM.
Our local newspaper has acquired the Heloise column. I read it and may adopt some of her tips, but her recipes are major projects, so they go in the trash. Once I signed on for a meal service so that I wouldn’t have to cook. You got the meals, and each one required slicing and dicing, and cooking. I prepared them all because wasting food is not an option, but vowed to never, ever do that again.
That’s my story for now.
Love to you all,