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Rambling On the Rhonda Lou, November 13, 2010
That reoccurring dream to take me back to the peace, love and tranquility of simple youthful times on the Bellzona, which is not at all and certainly not the Rhonda Lou. The dreams come to me at the difficult places in my life. The most recent dream was of being stranded in Shidler without a ride home back to the ranch outbacks between Foraker and Grainola. Something in my mind must have registered about the realities of being stranded in the middle of the prairie, as Dad would say, “100 miles from no where.”
The dreams always seem to serve a purpose and I’m ready to pick up on the necessary mediocrity of living right where I am. Speaking of the ordinary; we must have a new storm door on back since the sliding glass door is totally gone and has refused to slide anymore, (how did it do that?), and our shower head has given up after probably twenty years of service, (the nerve!).
Rhonda’s circulation keeps her cold in the winter if we don’t have a small heater close by her chair. For that I put down ceramic tile. I don’t like the out gassing of vinyl tile when it gets
warm. Four of those ceramic tile need to be replaced. We probably must replace a small heater on the back porch to keep the washing machine from freezing.
I tried to get a shovel into that clay on the hill where I’m putting in a berm. The ground was harder than rock and a shovel would not penetrate not even after the heavy rain. I will try again this morning after yesterday’s rain. Unless I get something out of that soil through mulch, added garden soil and so forth there will be no tulips in the spring, I’m afraid. ‘Tis a problem. At the moment all that is there is the summer meadow hay for mulch. An acre spread across the front is too much to be built up with kitchen scraps. Regardless, where there is a will, there will be a way must continue to be a motto.
The work Rodney does at the college is a necessary part of keeping an entity functioning. Electrical power at this point in time has become a valued provision with the advent of the computer and everything else. We realize that and I try to keep everything function around here without bothering him. However, there comes a place where I can no longer do all things. Even though I do see some women going ahead with power tools and such, my rebelling body and female attitudes from another era won’t allow that. Age oriented muscles seizing up make my willpower depended on tricking the bod by not staying with one activity too long. Which, speaking of, my time here at the computer must necessarily be cut short.
That reoccurring dream to take me back to the peace, love and tranquility of simple youthful times on the Bellzona, which is not at all and certainly not the Rhonda Lou. The dreams come to me at the difficult places in my life. The most recent dream was of being stranded in Shidler without a ride home back to the ranch outbacks between Foraker and Grainola. Something in my mind must have registered about the realities of being stranded in the middle of the prairie, as Dad would say, “100 miles from no where.”
The dreams always seem to serve a purpose and I’m ready to pick up on the necessary mediocrity of living right where I am. Speaking of the ordinary; we must have a new storm door on back since the sliding glass door is totally gone and has refused to slide anymore, (how did it do that?), and our shower head has given up after probably twenty years of service, (the nerve!).
Rhonda’s circulation keeps her cold in the winter if we don’t have a small heater close by her chair. For that I put down ceramic tile. I don’t like the out gassing of vinyl tile when it gets
warm. Four of those ceramic tile need to be replaced. We probably must replace a small heater on the back porch to keep the washing machine from freezing.
I tried to get a shovel into that clay on the hill where I’m putting in a berm. The ground was harder than rock and a shovel would not penetrate not even after the heavy rain. I will try again this morning after yesterday’s rain. Unless I get something out of that soil through mulch, added garden soil and so forth there will be no tulips in the spring, I’m afraid. ‘Tis a problem. At the moment all that is there is the summer meadow hay for mulch. An acre spread across the front is too much to be built up with kitchen scraps. Regardless, where there is a will, there will be a way must continue to be a motto.
The work Rodney does at the college is a necessary part of keeping an entity functioning. Electrical power at this point in time has become a valued provision with the advent of the computer and everything else. We realize that and I try to keep everything function around here without bothering him. However, there comes a place where I can no longer do all things. Even though I do see some women going ahead with power tools and such, my rebelling body and female attitudes from another era won’t allow that. Age oriented muscles seizing up make my willpower depended on tricking the bod by not staying with one activity too long. Which, speaking of, my time here at the computer must necessarily be cut short.