It's that time of year again when a young man's fancy turns to . . . mud. Well, at least our thoughts do! The sunshine - now filled with heat from that big, yellow ball - is softening the snow and melting it away down to mud, slush, and slop. Seasonal birds are returning, and Maisy needs her feet cleaned off every time she comes back into the house. Spring is returning!
Because it's light before 6:00 a.m., the girls (Maisy and Miss Kitty) are up and rarin' to go bright and early. Tom, having come home last night from a week away, mumbled from underneath a pillow this morning, "Do we get up at 6:00 now?" (Fortunately, Daylight Savings Time next weekend will push "Nature's alarm clock" back out to 7:00 a.m.)
After Tom worked in the big city office last week he headed down to southwestern MN to visit his dad (who's turning a young 86-years old tomorrow) and meet with a realtor about the lake cabin. We'd love to keep "the lake place", but, even if we could afford to, it's just not practical. It's a nearly-10-hour-drive from here to there, and the reality is that we would really be pushing it just to get down for one week at the beginning and end of each summer. Then, there's all the maintenance (lawn mowing, etc.) in between. Like I said, it's just not practical anymore. So, once we've settled on a sale price, the sign will go up in the yard. And, our realtor says that he has five people to call right off the bat, so that's good!
Make no mistake, though: letting the cabin go will be very hard, emotionally, for both Tom and his dad. It's been in the family since Tom was in high school. But, it's time. No one can take away the memories, though.
From the horrible cold and flu that's knocked most of our friends and family (and us) out in the last month or so, I managed to crack a rib (from the uncontrollable coughing). I thought that was painful. HA! On Saturday, I BROKE the rib. Sneezing. It sent me to my knees on the kitchen floor. I cannot IMAGINE what someone like Tom's brother felt like after his accident with 11 broken ribs! I think someone would just have to shoot me and call it a day. Now I have to go in for a bone density scan and x-ray. Of course, there's nothing really to be done for a broken rib other than treat the pain. So, since Saturday, I've been experiencing "better living through pharmaceuticals!" (And a bit of red wine!) There are times in life when you just have to say, "Thank goodness for pain medication!"
Despite the 1:00 rib-breaking, I still managed to show our house Saturday afternoon. The woman who is interested and we had been having a HORRIBLE time melding our schedules, so it was to the point of desperation (obviously). Once the painkillers kicked in and I knew I could manage (besides, I knew I could properly relax and recover once I had the showing out of the way instead of still hanging over my head), I postponed the visit only 1 1/2 hours. In that extra time, my fabulous mother came out and did the last bits of cleaning that were required before I let ANYONE set foot in the house. A shower (for myself) was on my list of must-dos, too, but I drew the line there: Mother wasn't going to scrub my naked body head-to-toe. Instead, I settled for her helping me dress and brushing my dirty hair back into a ponytail.
The showing went TREMENDOUSLY well, and, at the very, very least, I have made an AMAZING new friend. She arrived at 4:30, and left at . . . 10:30 p.m. (only because she was worried that her two old dogs may have "shat" in the house while left alone so long). Obviously, it would be beyond wonderful if she ended up buying the house, but making the new friendship alone was worth it. She arrived with some homeopathic medication and a BIG chocolate bar in hand! She wouldn't even let me get up during the evening to let Maisy in or out of the house because of my broken rib. What a gal!
So, you have the salt of the earth, and then you have . . . .
On my way to work this morning, as I pulled out onto the highway, I saw a vehicle turning off the highway up onto the main road that leads to our property. The truck was a shiny, brand-spankin'-new black extended cab pick-up loaded with men. They were towing a BIG, brand-spankin'-new, shiny black enclosed trailer that pretty obviously housed snowmobiles in the winter and ATVs in the summer. On the trailer was a big decal that read (are you ready?): "Ditch the Bitch. Let's Go Huntin'!" All I can say is that I hope they were looking in the rearview mirror and could read lips, 'cause I was giving them WHAT FOR! That is one of the lewdest, most stupid and ignorant displays of INhumankind I have ever seen. I was floored. And "sportsmen" wonder why they get a bad rap? Just ask these brainiacs. Unbelievable.