I had such plans for today.  Plans that are now busted by incessant, misty rain.

Yesterday afternoon, it was chilly, but the sun was shining, so I got outside to work on cutting back the porch side garden.

I massacred my Forsythia.  Supposed to be trimmed back right after it finishes flowering in the spring, it had gotten long and leggy and I lopped off every single branch!  Took it down to about 3 feet high.  I know, it will come back, but I doubt it will flower next spring.

I made a pile of the lopped off branches, then got my camp chair out of the trunk of my car.  That way, I can sit down to rest my aching back, and pull the branches up to me, cut them into smaller lengths and put in a yard waste bag I have sitting beside me.

I have a lot of Rose of Sharon volunteers coming up all over that garden--most about 8" high.  The only way to get rid of them is to dig them up, but their root usually goes all the way back to the mother bush.  So--I just cut them off, below ground level with my loppers.  They will still come up next year, so...I will cut them down again in the spring.  The Good Lord willing and I'm still alive.
======================
I had an encounter with another Tree Toad.  Did I ever post about the ones I found in the upper channel of my trunk lid?  As I went to open my trunk to get my chair, there was a Tree Toad sitting on the top of the rear fender.  I placed him ever so gently on the big Maple tree behind us.  He is probably the same one I found in the trunk channel last month and put in the porch side garden.

After about an hour, when I had all the branches cut and bagged, I went to lug the yard waste bag up on the porch and Mr. Tree Toad was once again sitting on the fender of the car.

I again placed him on the trunk of the Maple tree.  I got my tools picked up and figured I'd just put them in the car trunk instead of walking them all the way back to my shed.  I got my chair folded up and went to put everything in the trunk..................Tree Toad, once again on the fender of the car.

I think he was remembering how much he liked living in the damp, dark trunk channel and riding around with me.  This time, I tossed him none to gently into the garden and shut the trunk lid.  

It all has just become such a hysterical thing that, before I go into town, I have to open and check my trunk for toads.  I hate to be in the super market parking lot and then discover them because there are no grassy areas for me to toss them into.  Besides, a Tree Toad living in the Walmart parking lot wouldn't last very long before he was squished!!!
====================
  Wasn't it just the other day I was telling you how sweet Maggie The Cat has become?  Getting up on the bed every night, coming up toward my shoulders to be petted and talked too.

Last night the ritual continued.  She came up, I petted her body, scratched under her chin, gently stroked her ears and petted her head and.............she turned and bit me!  I yelled, "NO BITE" which she understands and swatted her off the bed.

Then, because I was in pain and bleeding like a fountain, I had to get back up and put Neosporin on it and a large Band-Aid to staunch the flow of blood.  

Later, when I was almost asleep, I felt her jump up onto the bed and settle down by my ankles where she normally sleeps.  I had such an intense urge to kick her flying off the bed, but I didn't.  You can clearly see the marks from her two upper teeth.

====================
I am ticked off today, not just because it is raining and I can't get outside and finish that side garden.  I decided to get the genealogy printed out.  Right around the 80 page mark, I ran out of the special, acid-free, heavier paper I use.  The paper that costs $40.00 a box of 150 sheets.  I've had to order and it won't be in until Tuesday.  

I'm thinking this day is lost and I might as well vacuum the carpeting and sit down, watch TV and crochet!

It's a baby boy afghan that I designed myself and it is causing me all sorts of problems!

I had quite the adventure yesterday...

I went into Brighton, to get my hair cut, and decided to drive home a different way to miss the traffic.

I thought I knew what street/road I was on, when in actuality, I was on one that went south-west out of town, around Brighton Lake. I wasn't lost--a country girl knows her directions, but for quite a few miles, I didn't exactly know where I was.

Then--I saw a road and I recognized the name--a gravel road--Bauer Road, I turned north on it and recognized I was near where I had gone years ago to my grand daughter's cross country track meet.

In and out of holes and wet low places and finally, up ahead, I could see the traffic light on the road I originally thought I was on. Just before I got to the traffic light, I hit a pot hole.
KABANG!!!  I expected that rear tire to go flat at any moment.

Please, Dear God, get me home safely!!

Finally home and it only took me 45 minutes, instead of the normal 15, but..................I did miss the city traffic and I got to see a lot of beautiful mansions out by the lake!!!
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I recently visited with Pearl and Merle.  It's hard to "visit".  Pearl doesn't have much to say--she still manages to get dressed in the morning, but stays in her chair all day.  When I got there, she had a couple of pair of slacks sitting by her chair and she was in her underpants.  Apparently, because it takes her such a long time to walk to the bathroom, she has "accidents" and had already gone through two pair of slacks.  I don't know why she doesn't wear Depends.

Merle's voice is very weak now and the Parkinson's has advanced to the point where his head bobs up and down all the time.  I don't know whether he is agreeing with what I say or not.  He recently was in hospital for a hydrocele.

I had no idea what that was, so he explained--in minute' detail I might add.  It is a fluid filled sac in the scrotum.  It has to be drained--with a needle.  He didn't like it.

Oh my!
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Monday I got a letter from an old friend--one I have known since I was born--they were neighbors of ours.

Now, I have always known that this girl/woman was a "story teller" as my Daddy used to call her.  I never told any of my other friends and in high school and beyond, I could see them fascinated by her stories and the fantastic life she had once led.

The last couple of years, at our monthly luncheons, I have observed that the other women aren't quite in the believing mode, as her stories have become so far fetched as to be totally unbelievable.

She has claimed that she has tried to attend our luncheons for the last three months, but we were never at the restaurant we told her we'd be at.  She has now claimed to me, that last month, she arrived, but none of us were there and when she went back to her car, she saw us all leaving town in our cars.

She also informed me that she tried to go to a mutual friend's funeral, but she couldn't find the church.  That she stopped at the Township offices and two other churches, but none of those people had ever heard of that church.  I wonder if she was even in the right town.

So--I sent a couple of e-mails off to Beth and another friend Ruth Ann.  Ruth Ann was the one who answered her cell phone, on her way to the funeral, and specifically told her where the church was and how to get there.

Beth, who is friends with this woman's step-son, said that they have become aware that the woman is in dementia and also paranoia.  The woman had told someone that Beth's husband had given someone a ride home, but that he had to stop to run errands and so that person didn't get home for nine hours!  Also that Beth's husband had called her and told her not to call Beth anymore.  Not true.

In her letter to me, the woman said that her husband has now bought a registered, thorough-bred race horse and she's glad because it gives him "chores" to do and keeps him out of the house, and that she couldn't make it to "Jones" funeral either.  Who in the heck is Jones?

I don't even know how to answer or respond to her letter.  I don't know to react to her if I see her in person.  Just agree with her stories?  What wild tale will she tell next?  Could it be a hurtful tale about one of us that she tells another one of us?

It's an uncomfortable situation and not one I know how to deal with.

It's difficult because I feel like, since I've known her and her family for all my life, I should "stand up" for her.  I should show her more affection.  I should nod at every word that comes out of her deluded mind.

I read her letter three times and was so confused, I thought perhaps it was ME that wasn't understanding what she was talking about.  Perhaps she is the clear minded one and I am the one losing it?

This getting old is turning into a not so fun time!
=====================
Dar has twin great grand babies--boys.  She has not seen them and probably won't, as they belong to her son and grandchildren that she kicked out of her house two years ago.  She doesn't even know where they live.  When they left her house, they had no where to go and were living in their van.  Apparently the boy is the father of the twins.

Now this makes Dar's father a great, great grandpa.  She keeps telling everyone that her father is 100 years old.  I don't say anything, but when I did their genealogy, he was born in 1924.  Well--94....100, what's the difference, right?

She doesn't come over very often anymore.  She quit smoking "real" cigarettes, so now she doesn't need a place to escape too and puff away.  
=================
I got a phone call from daughter Pam yesterday.  She is still living with Jen and family in New Jersey.  I know she is a big help to them.  Pam basically takes care of the two younger kids.  She takes them to and from school and their after school activities, cleans up their rooms and does their laundry.  The two older kids do their own cleaning and laundry.

Pam just found out that she is two months shy of work hours to apply for disability.  One case worker told her to go back to work for two months and then re-apply.  Pammie explained that she can't work.  That is why she is applying for disability!

She has shown "them" all the MRI and x-rays of her back--she is missing a disc in her spine, but it all hinges on hours worked.

So, now she is applying for SSI.  

Lots of people talk about how easy it is to get on Welfare.  I have not found that to be true and neither has Pammie.  I guess we are the wrong nationality or color or don't have under aged kids or something.

So, she is out there and her farmhouse remains closed up.  I worry about that.  Everyone knows she doesn't live there anymore.  She may return home to find squatters living there.  Squatters--like her Mom.  LOL
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Today I have to run up to Walmart to pick up a prescription.  Stop and drop off my rent check at the park office here.  Get to the print shop to get the pedigrees printed out on long paper and clean up this house.  I don't understand how one person, living alone, can let a house get so cluttered!!!

If the weather holds, tomorrow I need to get outside and start the fall, garden clean-up.  I love doing that, but I sure dread how my back is going to feel.

Oh well--I live to fight another day!!!

    

I got the genealogy printed out today.  162 pages!!!!!!!  Lots of old photos, so dark, but I put them through my photo editing software and it lightened and sharpened them a good bit.

I have to get to the print shop to get the pedigrees printed and then put them in the appropriate places in the book, then back to the print shop to get the book bound and printed and I think.....I may be able to get it mailed end of this week.

It's been a great experience and I think my client will be surprised about how far back I was able to get on her Paternal grandmother's side.  My client already had a lot of info to give me, but I "climbed" a lot higher than what she had, and that, to me, is always a success.
======================
The necessity of garden fall cleanup is heavy on my mind.  Just when I think I will get an afternoon to get outside, it rains.  Other than the normal back pain, I feel better than I have in a couple of years, so I am hoping I can get it all done in just a couple of days.
We shall see.  My neighbor's haven't started cutting back their gardens yet, so I guess I'm not too out of the loop.
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My cats are strange things.  I never thought you could teach a cat anything.  Dogs?  Yes.  Cats?  Not so much.

When they come up to my chair and look like they want to jump up on my lap, if I say "No", they stay down.  Then I say, "Go take a nap" and they walk away to their cushions and sleep.

They sure know what, "Want supper?" means and run over to their food dishes before I even get to the fridge.

When I get ready to go to bed I say, "Time to go nite-nite."  They saunter off toward the bedroom.  While I am in the bathroom, they sit on the floor by my bed.

Buddy always jumps up and come up to the upper right side of the bed, because I lay on my right side and pet him while I fall asleep.  Maggie waits until I get settled, then snuggles up to the left side, down by my ankles.

Apparently they have had a conversation or something because the last month, Maggie now jumps up on the bed first.  She comes up quite close to my face.  She used to be a biter and didn't ever wanted to be petted.

I lay on my side and pet her and talk to her.  I've never heard her purr until last week!  Then I say, "Nite-nite", and she moves down to her usual spot, by my ankles.  Then and only then, will Buddy jump up and come up to his usual spot.  I pet him and talk to him, and then he puts his face in the open palm of my right hand, up by the pillow and lays quite close to my head.  Sometimes I have to scootch him over as he lays too close to my face.  He goes to sleep with his head in my right hand.

Usually when I wake up in the morning, Buddy is the only one still in bed.  If I open an eye or start to move, he nudges my cheek with his cold wet nose.  If I pull the bedspread up over my face, he lays down on my shoulder and grooms himself, jiggling away, until I get fed up and sit up and get out of bed.

They are the strangest animals I have ever had!!!
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I guess I’m out of touch with this world.

I thought the decision Senator Jeff Flake made was a good one…most of my Conservative friends don’t see it that way.  I thought he was being fair-minded in giving both sides time to regroup.  My Conservative friends think he caved.

My Liberal friends wonder how I could support Judge Kavanaugh, when I, as an abused woman should side with Dr. Ford.  I DO agree that she was abused, but my experience tells me, that if she was, she should remember a lot more details than she does.

Kavanaugh and his friends remind me of the rich Kennedy boys and their friends.  I can very well see that he and his friends would do something like this.  The girls that are “friends” with those kinds of boys/men, think it’s all fun and games.  They flirt and tease, until the boys get overly pushy, then the girls scream and run home. 

I have to stop listening to all of this.  No more watching congressional hearings.  No more reading posts from either side.  They have made me angry to the point I have not felt in many years.

It has brought back unpleasant memories, that I had put on a shelf high in the closet and haven’t thought of in years.  That, in turn, has caused nightmarish dreams and loss of sleep, which in turn, is affecting my daily life….to the point of not waking up in time to attend the funeral of a very dear teacher and friend.

So, you all carry on.  I will not participate.  I will watch as the Evil One, roams about seeking to kill and destroy and pray that God will one day bring us together in peace.  He is the only one who can.

When my Grand daughter was here, I sent the afghan I made for her hubs, home with her.  I guess he really liked it.  He had made a comment to her that, "We need more blankets around here."  Maybe being so tall tends to make him feel the cold?  Anyway...........

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You just never know when an ordinary day is going to turn into a crisis, do you?

I think I told you that my Buddy cat had been having problems with his lower front tooth.  Suddenly Tuesday night he refused to eat his wet food.  Wednesday he wouldn't eat, nor drink.  I could see his tooth was sticking forward and I figured that was the problem.

But...what could I do?  I had $130.00 in my checking account with an expected automatic payment of $142.33 coming out on this Tuesday.  I was worried on how I was going to find the needed $12.00, let alone think of paying a high Vet bill.

I fretted and stewed and tried to find a "free" animal clinic around here.  There are none.

I knew I had to get him to a Vet or he could get dehydrated from not drinking and then that would lead to more problems.

Around 11:00, Wednesday night, my Bonus Daughter Chris called from Idaho.  I was crying and she was comforting.

"You take him to the Vet and then you have them call me and I will give them my credit card number.  This is how I lost my Smokey.  I figured his bad tooth would just fall out.  Instead it got infected, he got a bad infection and died."

"Chrissy, I can't do that.  This is going to cost a fortune!"

"Jude...a fortune to you, is no big deal to me.  Now do it tomorrow morning."
====================
First thing Thursday morning, I called the place we had taken Fred's dog.  I know they are a wonderful place--plus they are open 24/7 for emergencies.  They told me to bring Buddy right in.

Now--trying to get this big cat into the carrier proved to be almost more than I could do.

First I took the carrier into the bathroom.  Buddy always follows me into the bathroom.  I sat on the stool and waited.  In he came.  I shut the bathroom door and for the next 25 minutes, tried to get a clawing, growling, large 18# cat into the carrier.

I'd get him in and before I could zip up the door of it, he had wiggled out.  Backed himself into the corner of the shower room and hissed and growled.

I tried to talk him down.  Explained that he had to get in that carrier.  Tried to entice him with a treat........................then, I was breathing hard, my heart pounding and it was full on, YOU WILL GET IN THERE!  I put a towel over his head so he couldn't see and stuffed him in the carrier.

We were feeling the remnants of hurricane Florence, so it was pounding rain.  So hard I could hardly see to drive with my wipers on full speed.  Then the interior of my windshield and back window, fogged up...Buddy was growling in the carrier, I was trying to roll windows down and up and..................

I got to the Vet's 45 minutes later, normally a 20 minute drive.  Buddy's mouth was bleeding AND the bad tooth was gone!!!!!  I must have knocked it out in our tussle.

As we waited in the little exam room, Buddy didn't like the stainless table, of course, so I picked him up to hold him.  He climbed up my left front, draped his front legs over my shoulder and set his claws into my upper arm back.  

The Tech came in and I pried Buddy loose to get him on the table again.  The other bad front tooth was still intact.  The Tech noticed I was bleeding from my upper arm, so he tended to my claw punctures while we waited for the Vet.

The Vet came in, we chatted a moment, then he swooped Buddy up, draped him over his arm and was out the door.  He came back in a few minutes, minutes that had given me time to pray and calm myself down.

Buddy seemed fine.  He was more than happy to crawl back into the carrier with no prodding on my part.

Not only had they removed the bad tooth, but had also trimmed his claws and given him a long lasting antibiotic shot.  They didn't charge for the tooth extraction or the claw trim.  

I really didn't want the extracted tooth, but the Vet presented it to me like it was some kind of treasure, so I felt I had to accept.  He told me Buddy would expect at least a quarter under his pillow that night.

================

The office call was $46.00 and the injection was $50.00.  I had figured it would be at least $150.00.

I gave them Chris' phone number, they chatted over the phone, I got the receipt, they carried the carrier to my car for me and we were on our way home.

I was wet and chilled from the rain we had to walk through, so I put the carrier on my bed, opened the little front part, and figured Buddy would come out on his own, while I toweled myself off and slipped into a dry shirt.

At first, he didn't want to move and when he finally did come out, he wouldn't even look at me.  

He stayed under the bed until evening and then, I put his wet food out and he wolfed it down and wanted more.

He is a happy cat once again--missing two front lower incisors, but can eat well.  Yesterday, he was even playing "zoomies" with Maggie.  Running up and down the length of the house.
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God bless Chris!  She's saved my life more times than I can count and this time, she saved Buddy's life too.  

Thursday, I had lunch with my  High School Gal Pals.  I ordered Nachos Supreme and they came out on a small pizza pan.  Needless to say, I brought half home with me for supper.  Warmed-up Nachos aren't too good--the chips get all soggy.

After lunch, I drove on up another 12 miles to visit my 2nd ex husband.  He had called me a couple of weeks ago to tell me that something he kept from me when we divorced, he wanted to now give to me.

The item had been a bone of contention at the time.  It was mine, but he said, if he hadn't gotten it for me, I never would have it and then I told him, if I hadn't seen it and asked him to get it for me, he never would have even known about it...and on and on.  He kept it from me just to be mean.  It's not like it's worth anything.  I had seen it the first time I visited him and asked, when he was done with it, could I have it.

So--30 years later, I got my "Rocky" back.  

So silly--we were on our Honeymoon in upper Michigan, walking along a high bank with Lake Michigan far below.  I spotted a rock.  Shaped somewhat like a skillet, with the "pan" eroded away by the swirling water.

He climbed down the bank and brought that heavy thing up to me and we put it in the trunk of our car.  When we got back home, I placed it under the down spout of our eaves trough, in a small garden I had planted.  When it rained, the water would come down into the basin and swirl around before running off the "handle" of the skillet into the garden.  The birds used it as a birth bath.  I loved that dang thing!

So Rocky is now in the trunk of my car, waiting for me to find some strong guy to help me get it out and place it under the down spout off my porch, in a woodland garden I have there.

Too funny, huh?  I wish he felt the need to give me back the $10K I loaned him, but he gets less Social Security than I do and has nothing.  He looks terrible!!  Near 6' tall and probably doesn't weight 145 pounds.  His stomach caves in and his rib bones stick out.  He cinches his pants in to extra holes he has made in his belt.  He looks very creased and old--which, I guess at 87 he should look old.  He's still very healthy, takes no prescriptions and put in a 50'x75' vegetable garden this year.  He dyes his hair, so it looks reddish, as a lot of hair dyes for men do.  He's had white hair since he was 50.  It is very sparse now and with the dye, he resembles a scare-crow.

He looks like he is on his last legs.  I don't know how long he's got, but...................................I got my rock back.
Seriously, I am not a very nice person!
====================
My oldest grand daughter Helene e-mailed me Thursday and asked if she and great grand girl Della could come and visit on Saturday.  Well, of course, being the socially active person I am, I had to check my schedule---------that's a lie, of course I was going to be home like I am every day.  They showed up at noon with lunch.

Della is going to be 2 years old October 24th.  For the last year, she has hated me.  Every time she saw me enter a room or come nearby, she'd start screaming and crying.  I wasn't quite sure how it was going to go with us both in the same small house.

I hugged Helene, but didn't say a word to Della.  I had Helene sit on the couch with Della, while we talked and I busied myself with getting plates out of the cupboard and putting out the lunch they had brought.

I put her lunch and her Mom's on the cedar chest I use as a coffee table in front of the couch and said, "We can have a party on this little table.  It's just your size, Della."  She doesn't like to sit in a chair at a big table, so this worked out great.  She either stood or knelt by the coffee table and ate her salad.  Helene and I chatted of course and laughed and had a good time.

Pretty soon, Della was dumping out her mother's purse and playing with the contents, then she put her mom's sunglasses on, upside down. 

Then she started playing with a puzzle, Helene was sitting on the floor beside her, so I scooched out of my chair and got on the floor and started asking her what sound the animals made--that were in her puzzle.

The next thing I know, she picked up her mom's camera and wanted a picture--so Helene took a selfie of all of us.

I managed to get back up in my chair and then Della came over, grabbed the index finger on my left hand and said, "Go find kitties?"  I basically took her on a tour of the house, she looked in each room and when we got to my bedroom, she got down on her tummy and looked under the bed.  Buddy must have been under there because she pointed, then stood up quickly, grabbed my finger and started pulling me to the living room.

Helene asked, "Did you find a kitty?"

Della nodded and said, "No, no!  No want kitty!"

Helene explained that their cat has scratched Della and so she doesn't like kitties anymore and is afraid of them.

What a hoot!  They stayed about 3 hours and Della came over and laid against my leg and smiled at me and when they left, she threw me a kiss.

She is pretty smart for not even being two.  Of course, her grandma Karen spends each Thursday with her, while Helene works, and knowing Karen, she reads to her and talks to her like an adult.  She does have a strong will--just like her grandma did.  When she says, "No", she means no and isn't afraid to show her emotions.

It was a wonderful afternoon and I was so happy AND exhausted when they left.
====================
As I was looking at these photos, I noticed that at 2 years old, Della and I wear our hair alike.  She just needs a big bow, Like I had.

We here in the Mitten State, worry about tornadoes.  I don't know why---they are infrequent and only do a small area of damage.  It is unlikely we will ever have a hurricane form over the Great Lakes...although I suppose it IS possible for Michigan someday to "cave in" and the Great Lakes merge over the top of us and create one huge Great Lake.  Not something I get anxious or worry about.

This darn hurricane Florence has me worried.  Will it affect me?  We might get some residual rain, like we did with Gordon, but it will be no big deal.  I don't think I know anyone who lives on the coast of the southern states--Trudy?  How close are you to the coast?  Ernestine?  My Virginia friends--I think you are inland enough to be safe from the "surge".

I am however, worried about my little cottage on the beach on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Well, it's not exactly "mine", in that I don't hold the deed, but...................

I first visited the Outer Banks in 1986.  I stayed in a high rise hotel.  Had to walk the boardwalk, across the protected dunes to get to the beach.  It seemed like a long walk even back then.

I returned again in 1995, with my friend and traveling buddy, Ernie.  Again, stayed in a hotel and had to walk a ways to get to waters edge.

I determined then that one day I would return, rent a cottage right on the beach and stay for a week.

I scrolled through real estate websites in 2008 and found a neat little place, right at the edge of the dune and steps away from waters edge.  I booked it for the next May.

The night before Fred and I were to leave, car all packed, mail held, all that, he had a major heart attack.  While he was in surgery, I called the real estate agent and told her what had happened.  She graciously returned the deposit I had made.

Fred was doing well by summer's end and wanted to make that trip.  The poor man knew how much I wanted to go...almost needed to go.  I am fearfully afraid of big water.  Almost drowned twice in my younger life.  I don't want to go on or in big water, but had found out years past, how soothing the ocean is.  Hearing the waves, coming in and going back out--that constant rhythm seemed to take all my anxiety and stress away.

So in September of 2009, I called the agent and got that little cottage for May 2010.

I couldn't believe it when we arrived.  There it sat--at the edge of the dune.  Stairs at the far end of the porch, led down to the beach.
Dolphins View it was called and we saw many every day.

The view from my recliner inside.

At high tide, the ocean came in and went under the porch.  Rather unsettling to me, but Fred reassured me that the pilings, holding up the house, were buried deep and we would not float away.

Yes--we traveled way up to Corolla at the north end of the Outer Banks and down to the southern end and the light house at Cape Hatteras.

and up the road a few miles to Kitty Hawk....

but, for three days in a row, we just stayed in our little "home" and enjoyed the ocean.

My sweet Fred and Tootz.

========================
I have been so homesick for that cottage.  I know I will never get back there.  Never see or hear the ocean again.

It makes me worry that Florence is going to take my sweet little cottage off into the deep.