I’m having trouble finding my footing with the change from uber busy spring-summer-fall to...indoors. There are a million things I could/should be doing, but I am not finding the wherewithal to get after it. I STILL haven’t made those pumpkin pies. Not that I didn’t try. I pulled the dough out of the fridge yesterday and when I started rolling it out, I knew something was terribly wrong. It was springy, like bread, so I knew the gluten got activated. Also, I used that cheap bargain basement flour from the Piggly Wiggly and it’s just not good for much of anything. I ended up throwing both the dough and the remaining flour away. I promise I’ll bake these pies today!
Mr. FixIt and I were standing at the corner of the house...of all things, looking for a tiny silver link that broke on the bracelet I bought him for Christmas a year or so ago. He caught it on the ladder when he was working on the outdoor electrical outlet he was replacing while I was at the farm. I heard a vehicle pull into the drive and turned to find a young couple delivering our Thanksgiving Dinner. Our little town gave out 500 meals yesterday...regardless of income or need. We were told we were actually helping them out in order to keep up their funding for next year. And, believe me, I was grateful to not have to cook a big meal...especially after just getting home Wednesday afternoon.
Let’s start out Thanksgiving on a sincere note of gratitude. My Covid test was negative and I am back home on the Ponderosa! Mr. FixIt was one happy guy when I pulled in that driveway. I was pretty darned excited myself. I stopped at the Piggly Wiggly on the way home to get a few things. I texted ahead to ask my sweetie to bring the wagon out to the truck to carry all this stuff into the house. I was loaded to the brim with clean laundry.
Well...fiddle fiddle, as my mother used to say. I waited around yesterday, hoping the phone would ring and I’d get the results of my Covid test. By 12:30, I decided to call the number where I left the message on Monday. The kind lady not only directed me to the nurse’s line, but she also sent her a message stating the importance of my call. I left a voicemail and asked that she call me back.
I finally gave in and called the little clinic where I had my Covid test done on Saturday. I know they said three days, but I was hoping it might have come in. No such luck. As a matter of fact, I left a message and it wasn’t returned. So, hopefully it comes in today. My back still hurts some, but the rest of the symptoms seem to have abated, so I’m thinking it was just a run of the mill virus and not the BIG one.
As I hunker down here at the farm, an alert came over the phone. Rain is coming. Plink. Plink. Plink. You hear the first drops hit the tin roof. Before long, you know it will sound like bacon frying. If it rains hard enough, it turns to a roar. I smile as I remember all the rainstorms of my youth in this house. There was this one time when it rained in the back yard, but not a drop in the front!
I woke up yesterday with a stuffy head. I didn’t think I felt too bad till I attempted to get out of bed. Then I felt as though I perhaps had been in a tractor pull...sans tractor. As the morning wore on, the cough and the sneezing started. I just didn’t feel good. I went on the DHS website and took their assessment questionnaire and it advised I go in for testing. My initial thought was, “Yeah...I’ll see how I feel tomorrow.” Then Daughter #1 happened to send a video chat request. After hearing my story, she strongly suggested I go get tested.
When I left the house Wednesday morning, I headed to the clinic to drop off a specimen then headed out to the farm for my R&R. I had to sit in the clinic for an hour in the main waiting room. People were spaced apart and wearing masks. But, still...I was inside in a medical clinic...for an hour. I wasn’t really happy about it. All I wanted to do was drop off the specimen and leave. But, rules is rules, right?
I can’t remember the last time I got away for a couple of days at the farm for a little recharge time. Mr. FixIt is doing really well these days and I’m feeling a little braver in going off on my own for a little bit. Not too far, though. I’m only eighteen miles away, so if he needed me, I’d be there in a whipstitch. And, as he said...he has plenty to do to keep himself busy while I’m gone as there is never a shortage of work around the Ponderosa.
I don’t always practice what I preach. I called out someone on my page yesterday for saying something mean to one of my friends that holds a different political belief than me. Then, in the same post, I turn right around and said something snarky to someone about their comment on my own position. Why do I do that? Why do I engage? I don’t know...I just can’t seem to help it when I feel strongly about something. Mama always said my mouth would get me in trouble.
