I've Been Sick

I've said many times that old age isn't for wusses. The past few days have proven my theory.

Thursday afternoon I was weeding the garden, around the dogwood and rose campions. When I finished, my right hip was itching, and when I inspected it, it was covered with some red welts. Well, yuck. The next morning, I had blistering on my back. The fact that we don't have a lot of mirrors was not bewailed -- I was glad I couldn't see what was feeling hot and --ewwwwww!

I was able to get to a doctor (actually, a nurse practitioner) within a few hours. Her diagnosis? "Ewwwwww." (I could have gone into medicine.) Shingles!

Now, my drug program doesn't kick in until day after tomorrow. The meds cost almost $200. But I'm getting better. I don't know if the pills did it -- I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. But I found a tube of Aloe Vera cream in the medicine chest. Aha! AHHHHHHHH! Good stuff. I seem to recall it was in a Sunshine Basket Hubby got when he had his gallbladder surgery -- so it didn't cost us anything.

Nope, this side of 65 isn't for the faint of heart. Just looking in the mirror will turn your hair white.

Time Does Fly

It was ten years last week that my son and I moved into this house -- Husband joined up in December when the contract he was working on was up. This is technically the second longest period of time I've lived in one place. I don't count the college years when I had the same home address, but was living somewhere else.

So I was looking around at all the changes we've made, mostly out of necessity. The chicken coop is gone, the mimosa tree died, and so did a chestnut. And apple tree and a peach tree have been whacked into submission. I've moved living things around to cut down as much as possible on the grass to be mowed, but somehow Husband hasn't grasped the idea that grass isn't really a good thing.

There isn't much you can do with a house that has parts that are 130 years old. You just try to tell grandchildren not to gallump on the dining room floor.

Even Miss Ruby, our resident ghost, has calmed down and made peace with us. So I guess maybe we'll stay a while.

The Ultimate Sandwich

Over the years (of which I have more than I readily admit) I've acquired some strange tastes in food. I don't consider them strange, other people do. For instance, I like ketchup and Old Bay seasoning in my vegetable soup. I like living in the South, where every social event has pimento cheese sandwiches.

Recently, a neighbor gave us a huge bottle of huge dill pickles. My love of dill pickles is genetic and hereditary -- my father loved them so much that when he was in the hospital one time with either a stroke or a heart attack (he alternated), he sent my husband and me to an Isaly's store to get him a pickle. Of course, he had his jackknife in the drawer of his bedside table, and he ate every bit of that huge pickle.

I was raised on peanutbutter and pickle sandwiches -- made with my mother's bread-and-butter pickles (where they got that name, who knows!) Unable to duplicate that culinary delight, I substitute dill pickles. Well, I made myself a grand sandwich. I got four slices out of that first pickle and only needed three to cover the bread, and the ends hung out the sides. It was heaven!

But I thought to myself as I was taking that first delicious bite, that I could have saved myself a lot of trouble. There were hotdog buns in the fridge. I could have slathered one of those bad boys with peanut butter, put a pickle in the middle and had the ultimate peanut butter and pickle without any wasted motion!

Naxt time!

How Does My Garden Grow?

With all this rain and wind, it's hard to answer that one.

Gardening is a lot of work, and most of it doesn't show -- unless it doesn't get done. Husband and I weeded a problem spot in the garden today. It is right along the bank when the driveway comes off the road, and since we have so much going on there in the spring, it doesn't get weeded until all the spring plants are done, and the peonies come out.

We've has so much rain that the peonies just about got flattened, so we had to go out today and stake them up -- which we should have done long ago. In the process, I had to dig up the volunteer rose campions, while husband pulled weeds. We have a lot of stinging nettle in that area. Luckily, the rain has kept them easier to pull later into the spring this year. But you have to use gloves.

Every year it is a battle to dig up the walnut trees that the squirrels have planted, to tug out the passion vines and clumps of grass we thought we did away with last year. We have a two-foot high dogwood there that we hope will soon get tall and blossom. It will be the star of the corner there!