ISSUES WITH EARS

 I was just getting ready to sit down and go through my e-mail when I made the mistake of asking The Man is he wanted to keep the four ears of corn that our neighbor brought over on Saturday.  

BIG MISTAKE !   ( I can never say that phrase without picturing Julia Roberts in the movie "Pretty Woman".)

On Saturday the neighbor brought over a huge box of produce from their garden. This is the third time they have done this and each box of veggies could feed a family of twenty.  Included in this batch of goodies were 2 bags of blanched corn that had been cut off the cob so we could freeze it and four ears of corn still on the cob.  I LOVE corn on the cob but being plagued by diverticulosis I really can't eat that much corn before I end up doubled over in pain. Even if I chew chew chew it still manages to get stuck in my gut where it kills me for days. (It is an awesome way to loose about five pounds but the pain really isn't worth it.) 

Last night we ate some of the blanched corn and it was AMAZING !!!  I don't think I have ever eaten corn that was so sweet and delicious.  I tried to restrain myself and only ate a small amount but OMG was it ever delish ! 

Tonight I left out the four ears of corn thinking maybe we would have them with dinner but then my common sense kicked in and told me not to push my luck, even though I can't get over how delicious this corn is.  I REALLY wanted to cook it and drown it in butter but that is just asking for a weeks worth of pain so I just left it sitting on the counter. After dinner as I was cleaning up I asked the man if we should give the corn to the cleaning lady who is coming tomorrow.  

I might have asked him to drink from the toilet bowl . . . the look he gave me was one of total astonishment.  He then said we should put the corn out in the field for the deer to eat !  I couldn't let that go because this is GOOD corn so I told him that was not an option, the corn was too good for the deer. I then asked if he would eat the corn or does it bother his stomach as it does mine. ( I already know the answer to that because we have discussed what a bitch it is getting old and having tummies that require constant dietary considerations. I was just asking to make sure he didn't want the corn.) 

And this was his answer . . .   I SWEAR to you this is exactly what he said . . . 

" No, it's too much of a bother to cook the corn. You have to peel it and cook it and then there is all the corn silk that gets all over the place. It's too much work. Just give it away to the cleaning lady if you want."

The Man has NOT cooked in four years so I wonder how he remembers how much "work" it is to cook corn ?  I mean it 's not like I am asking him to make a seven layer cake from scratch with home made butter cream icing . . . It's a freaking ear of corn that you throw in the microwave as is, cut off the ends after eight minutes and roll it on a stick of butter.  It doesn't get much easier than that !  

I will offer the wonderful corn to the cleaning lady as a peace offering for having put up with this man for the past nine years. If I were her I would have quit well before now.  

DIS FUNCTIONAL FAMILIES TO THE MAX !

 OK . . .   I'm going to get on my soap box here  . . .   don'[t judge me, just explain to me how a parent can be SO TOTALLY OBLIVIOUS to the needs and well being of their children. 

I grew up in NYC surrounded by middle class working families.  ALL the dads went to work, nine to five. ALL the moms stayed home and took care of the kids and the home. A parent's job was to make the world a better place for their children AND more importantly to teach your children how to be good, honest, hard working, caring individuals. As a parent your main focus was the care of your child and that meant disciplining them so they would learn right from wrong and how to behave in a civilized manner,. 

Kids respected their parents and all the other adults that they encountered. That included police, fire men, teachers and even the little old guy who owned and ran the little deli down the street where you could go for a loaf of bread or a soda on a hot summer day.  The kids were respectful and the adults, while expecting to be addressed with respect, were never mean or condescending. (Well most of the time. Every neighborhood had at least one cranky old fart who would yell at you if you came too close to their yard.)  If you mis behaved out in public you were reprimanded by an adult or your parents if they were there. It was not uncommon for a stranger to correct a kid if the kid was acting stupid. 

Families functioned as a group. Everyone had their job and place and everyone KNEW their job and place. Parents taught kids how to behave and then expected their kids to follow through with good behavior.  I don't EVER remember anyones parent EVER not being around unless they were dead or dying. Parents were visible and active in their kids lives. Parents did not have lives of their own, they lived for the family.

Fast forward to today . . . HOLY CRAP !!!!  What the hell has happened to our world and the family unit ? I look at parents today and don't recognize them as the adults in the family dynamics.  More often that not it is the kid who is in charge because mom and/or dad is too busy having "ME TIME".  Do you know what my mother's "Me Time" was ?  It was while she was walking the mile and a quarter to the grocery store pulling her shopping cart there and back. She had all that time alone to be at one with herself while she got exercise and planned her schedule for the rest of the day. This was the time that she could think about how to stretch her grocery money to the max for the rest of the week and how she was going to find time to get me to the dentist, never mind how she was going to pay for the dentist. My dad's "Me Time" was his drive back and forth to work every day in traffic. He got to think about how he was going to make ends meet with the pay check he got and if he would have enough time to fix the broken kitchen door when he got home that night.  

And life was good ! 

Today we spent the afternoon with The Man's youngest grand daughter.  She is ten and is a nice kid but she has been dealt one of the crappiest hands in life that I have ever seen.  This kid was born a crack baby. Her mother was on drugs her entire pregnancy and the kid has some learning issues because of it.  The Man has told me how he could not go to see her when she was born because of the terrible state this child was in after her birth. He doesn't talk much about it but I can see how terrible it must have been.  

After Little D was born she went to live with her father because her mother was in jail for drug use. Right there you can tell this is not going to be a "Happily Ever After" story.  Little D has lived with her dad for ten years now and if ever there was a kid who I wanted to "fix" this is the one.  Her father runs a bar so Little D spends most of her days sitting in a slum of a bar surrounded by the dregs of the earth who tend to frequent hole in the wall joints.  When she isn't at the bar she is with her Aunt and her cousins who live in town but from what I gather Auntie isn't much better than the dad or her mother but at least Little D gets to be in a home setting rather than a run down dirty bar. 

Little D calls me Grandma because she never really knew her birth grandma who died shortly after she was born.  Grand pa, aka The Man,  isn't that involved with Little D because of the history of his relationship with Little D's mother who is his daughter. 

It is a screwed up family and nothing like what I have know all my life.  My friends and my family are NORMAL . . .  super great people, wacky at times but always loving and putting each other first. 

It just blows my mind to deal with Little D's father who is one step this side of the "good old boys" in the movie "Deliverance".  Today I called this man to ask him to bring his daughter, Little D, out here to see her grand father and me.  I had gotten the child something that she had wanted for her birthday and it had finally just arrived Friday. We had had a birthday party for the kid here at the farm three months ago and along with ice cream and cake we gave here other gifts but this one BIG thing that she wanted was on order and she has been waiting patiently for 3 months for this thing to arrive.   I would talk to her every so often and she would text me keeping up to date on its arrival so when it got here on Friday I immediately called her. OF course she wanted it right away but by then it was late afternoon and grand pa doesn't do afternoon adventures. Besides that The Man now has a bug up his butt that he will be damned if he is going to drive ALL THE WAY to then next town to go to the crappy bar to see his grand daughter.  (He's got a point but it is also something that you do for the kid . . . it's NOT about YOU !). Yesterday came and went without either man giving an inch so this morning I took over and called the father and asked him to please bring Little D up here so we could give her the gift.  I guess I frightened Mr. Dad because he was all sweetness and agreement when I spoke to him. They did show up a couple of hours later, Little D LOVED her gift and all is well with the world.  I was sure to thank the father several times for "going out of his way" to do this for me. (I really wanted to slap him senseless). But I am still shaking my head wondering what in God's name is our world coming to when people can't see that they have to make sacrifices for the good of their children.  I'm not talking about buying kids everything they want or letting the kids run rampant doing anything they want. I'm talking about showing a little kindness to others and not just putting yourself first. 

FACEBOOK MARKET PLACE . . .

 Have you ever tried to sell something on any of the web sites like Craigs List, E-Bay, or  Etsy?   Let me tell you it is not for the faint of heart.  I can't even begin to imagine going on the web site called Deal Dash.com. That one looks like a total nightmare to me.  

Back in the day of the dinosaurs the big place to get a bargain was "John's Bargain Store". At least that was where my mom did all her gift shopping when I was a kid.  We didn't have much money but come Christmas and birthday I always had several gifts to open . . . thanks to the wonderful bargains at Johns. I think Johns Bargain Store evolved into Cheap Johns which in turn became our modern day Dollar Store. 

Up here in Northern Michigan my favorite place to browse is the Dollar General store at the bottom of the hill on the way into town.  Unlike my wonderful Dollar Tree store in Florida where EVERYTHING is only ONE DOLLAR the Dollar General and Family Dollar stores carry things that run up to and sometimes over twenty dollars. (As was the case with the little vacuum that I bought The Man for his birthday. I just couldn't stand using his broom that has bristles pointing in every direction. When I would try to sweep something up it flies off in all directions and makes you then play hide and seek to find it.  Frustrating !!).  Also the Dollar General store sells those wonderful drinks in a bag that I have written about. 

Anyway . . . .    I am not looking to buy any more stuff for this place . . . . We ARE looking to sell as much as we can.  Remember how I have told you about the vast amount of STUFF that fills this house and garage?  Well The Man has FINALLY decided to get rid of some of it and this is where the internet comes in to play.  

Before the internet people had Yard Sales, or Garage Sales, or Flea Markets where you stuck a price tag on your stuff and hoped it would be just what someone was looking for.   NOW we have the internet !

I am the CEO of this business venture.  I also do publicity, advertising, photo shoots where I "stage" the items to show off their best features, and when the crap doesn't sell I get to be the person in charge of disposal.  I'm not quite sure what roll The Man plays in all this other than to ask me twenty times a day if I got any messages about possible sales. Oh Yes, I am also in charge of the switch board, (I Phone and computer), and communications.  I get to read all the inquiries about our items and I get to write back to all of them.  And when something does finally sell . . . guess who gets to deliver it ?!

It is NOT a simple case of, "Hey, wanna buy this?" . It requires hours of preparation and even more hours of follow through. The questions we have gotten about a single portable sewing machine blow my mind.  I have had people asking me to take pictures of the BOTTOM of the machine . . .  It is blank !  But I took a picture.  Then they wanted to know when it was made, what is the serial number, would I take a picture of the bobbin . . .  We posted this sewing machine on Facebook Market place two and a half weeks ago and if I had a dollar for every question I have been asked about it we would have more money than we are asking for the damn machine.  FINALLY . . .  today someone asked the ONE question that no one else has thought to ask . . .  "DOES IT WORK ?"   Up to this point I have been so busy measuring, photographing parts and researching the history of it that I have never plugged it in to see if it actually runs!  IT DOES ! In fact it runs so well I am tempted to keep it for myself ! 

But back to the web sites. We began our foray into marketing with Craigs List. That is the one name that stuck in my head so we tried to post our items on there.  After two days of frustration I finally called my daughter-in-law who is a genius with anything on the internet.  We discussed the in's and out's of selling on Craigs List and then she asked if we had tried Facebook Market Place. She said it was super easy to work with and anyone who has a Facebook account can go to it and see what you are selling.  

JACKPOT !!!!  Love this venue for selling our stuff and so far we have sold three things and met some REALLY nice people.   We even had a husband and wife drive nine hours to buy a bunch of things related to weaving.  They had seen one thing that we had posted, called us about it and ended up making the trip to see what else was here.  They spent A LOT of money and went home happier than the Alpacas and Llamas that they raise.  And we got rid of a ton of stuff.  

Although you would never know anything was gone because there are still ten ton's of stuff still here. 

SURPRISE ! ! ! . . . YET AGAIN

 Once again prepare yourself to delve into the male psyche . . .   OR . . . prepare yourself to once again be amazed at how the "unique" male mind works.  For as many of these blogs as I write I STILL have yet to figure out just how their minds work or if in fact they do work at all.  I am totally open for any man out there to try to explain this to me but until then I will continue to find humor and frustration in my dealings with the opposite sex.

This most recent incident occurred yesterday.  I had been composing a blog in my head about something else that had happened about three days ago so yesterdays adventure just reassured me that I HAD to write  about this odd male behavior.  There have been numerous other times when The Man behaves in the same manner but this one just caught me as particularly amusing.  The fact that when these things happen The Man is totally and completely SURPRISED makes me laugh every time.

Yesterday was hot and humid up here.  Not Florida hot and humid but still uncomfortable enough that the house is closed up and the AC is turned on. More for the comfort of The Man because the humidity really makes his breathing difficult.  

In the morning we left here to take our 45 minute drive to where The Man does his pulmonary rehab.  He had a good work out but was really drained by the time we got home.  We came right into the house and he went into the bedroom for a nap. (Napping is a daily occurrence in our lives and I have been known to actually fall asleep with him for an hour or two. . . .  The Queen of Sleep will take advantage of any opportunity to nap.) About forty minutes into his sleep his phone rang which annoys the hell out of him.  This is considered a personal attack by whom ever dares to interrupt the siesta. I do think The Man believes people purposely wait until their "Dwayne" radar tells them he is in a deep sleep so NOW is the time to call.  Anyway,  the sleep was disrupted and The Man was cranky. (Did you ever wake a sleeping bear or teenager when they did not want to be awoken?  This is exactly how The Man is, and to be fair it is only mildly like what I am like when some one wakes me. )

So now we are up and both of us are cranky. Rather than sit at the kitchen table staring at each other or the TV, (I don't know which is worse), The Man decided to go outside, (in spite of the heat), and cut the grass. Normally this is a great thing for him to do but it really was too warm yesterday. Knowing it would serve no purpose to say anything I just grabbed my book and headed outside with him. Good thing I did !

I was puttering around, getting some things out of the RV and feeding the deer when I looked up to see The Man on his mower out in the middle of the yard on the side of the house mowing down the garden of dead Peonies and tall grass.  This section had not been mowed since the spring because the peonies were growing and blooming and looking wonderful.  Now that they have all died the twenty by twenty area is an island of four foot high grass.  NOT something that one should attempt to mow down with a regular mower.  In the past years The Man has always mowed this area with his "bush hog" that is attached to the tractor.  This machine is made for thick, heavy grass and the tractor is built for heavy traction and pulling. I guess he was just feeling too tired to switch from the mower to the tractor . . . bad decision.

As I exited the RV on the opposite side of the yard I waved to The Man who was sitting still on his mower in the middle of the mass of weeds. Rather than wave back he waved for me to come over so I immediately knew something was up.  Sure enough, he was stuck.  He had mowed down some of the plants but had gotten the back tires of the mower stuck in a soft spot in the grass. 

For the normal person this would be no biggie . . .   just get off and push or get off and walk into the house until you got some one to help get the mower out of the hole it had sunk into.  But The Man isn't normal because he can't breathe.  He was a fish out of water stuck in the middle of the Sahara Desert.  Even though he had his tank of oxygen in the trailer behind the mower he couldn't carry the heavy tank and walk all the way back to the house so he needed help.  Upon reaching him he asked me to push the tractor out of the hole and I totally pulled a toned down version of Rhonda. I did not say, "F--K NO" like Rhonda would have but I DID say no.  (So proud of myself) There was no way I was going to be able to push a mower with him on it.  I think this SURPRISED him as much as the fact that he was stuck surprised him. The surprise turned to annoyance, not with me but probably with himself for being so dumb as to get himself in this predicament. 

The Man was at a loss to figure out what to do when I surprised him with the suggestion that we either call a neighbor to help OR I could get the truck and pull the mower out of the hole.  We did try option one but the neighbor wasn't home so I went to get a chain from the garage which he hooked up to the mower and the truck that I had driven up to where he was. Within seconds the mower was free from its quagmire of weeds and mud and I had not killed anyone or wrecked either vehicle. THAT was a surprise to both of us.

It is this element of surprise in The Man that amuses me to no end.  He is so easily surprised by things. The incident a couple of days ago that triggered my blog radar was when we came home from someplace and I joked that someone must have been in the house while we were gone because all the dishes were washed, dried and put away. (The Man had actually done this earlier that morning but I hadn't noticed until then) When I said this I meant it to be a joke but The Man's started scanning the room looking for the unknown dish washer.  I quickly thanked him for doing the dishes but I don't think he was even listening.  All he had heard was, "Someone must have been in the house" and he was in high alert mode. As he continued to look all around he went over to the French doors in the kitchen and tried the latch. To his TOTAL SURPRISE the door was unlocked !!!  He turned to me, eyes wide and stated, "The door is open!" 

I knew the door was open because every morning The Man opens that door, steps out on the small patio to check the weather.  Nine times out of ten he forgets to lock the door once he comes back in.  Most days I check it before we go out but this day I had not and so it was left unlocked the whole time we were out. (It is not like we are living in the middle of Chicago or NYC . . . NO ONE EVER comes up to this house unless they are here for a specific reason. The UPS guy and the neighbors are the only people who know we are here.) If anyone does happen on this driveway and follows it up to the house they are usually so surprised that they immediately turn around and leave.  

Surprises are so entertaining. 

HIDE AND SEEK . . . THE ADULT VERSION

 Is there a single human being, or animal for that matter, on this earth who has never played the game of  Hide and Seek?  I bet not.  From the time we were infants and our idiot Aunt Bessie would play        "Peek-a-boo" thinking we actually believed she went missing as soon as she put her hands in front of her face to running around the neighborhood hiding with our friends hoping someone would make it back to home base yelling, "Ollie Ollie Oxen Free" so that we could all come out from our hiding and go home for lunch.  

The great part of this game is you can play it with only two people or, as in my childhood neighborhood, you could play it with a dozen or more kids. (Some of which you had no idea who they were because they had just been riding by on their bikes and couldn't resist a good game of Hide and Seek.  I don't know if kids these days have ever played it out in the street where you had a "home base". The whole idea of the game was to not be found and to sneak back to home base where you stood yelling that ridiculous phrase "Ollie Ollie Oxen Free" which then magically released all the other players who had not yet been found. At that point everyone could return to home base and a new round of the game began. I have NO idea where that particular silly phrase came from. It probably started in the mountains of Tibet when the goat herd's mother yelled to her son Ollie to go catch the neighbors Oxen who had just wandered into their field of goats.  What ever the origins it stuck. I have no idea if it was a NYC only phrase or if everyone in the country yelled the same thing when they ran back to home base without getting tagged.  

If you think about it the entire game is sort of pre-spy training for our children.  Covert ops and all that.  What kid hasn't been caught in a game of "cat and Mouse" with their parents, siblings or hated neighborhood bully?   If you broke your moms favorite vase she went on the war path looking for you.  You knew if she found you it was all over and you are going to die ! Or at least get a good hard slap on your butt. To save yourself from this fate you found a good hiding spot and lay low until the storm passed or the bully finally went home. 

The Man has often told me stories of how he would hide out in the pig pen with the pigs because his mother hated the pigs and would not go out there to find him when he was in trouble.  I have seen the tiny house he grew up in so even if mom didn't hate the pigs I'm sure the pig pen offered more hiding places than his house did, especially if any of his six brothers were around yelling, "He's in the closet",  hoping their mom would find him and take the pressure off of the rest of them. 

Hide and Seek . . .   a great game that keeps most kids entertained for hours until they finally realize you are just telling them to go hid just to get rid of them and you have no intention of looking for them. Some kids figure that out pretty quickly . . . In my case I would hide and then fall asleep or get distracted and be in my friends house three blocks away while my parents would have the entire neighborhood out searching for their missing child.  It was a different world.  Ah . . . The Good Old Days !

But now that I am mentally and physically returning to my childhood at a much faster pace than I ever thought possible, I get to play my adult version of this entertaining game. The thing is I don't get to do the hiding . . .  I only get to do the seeking.  With EVERYTHING !   There is not a day that goes by that I don't loose/misplace something. 

The three most often "lost" items of mine are my hearing aids, my glasses and my phone.  The phone is usually the easiest to find because I can call it from The Man's phone. Unless I have turned the sound off, which I do every night, so that my friends can't call or text me in the middle of the night.  In that case it is a good game of "Where Did I Leave My Phone?".  And that is exactly what the problem is . . .  I have left it some place and haven't a clue as to where.  This is also the case with my glasses.  I take them off, put them down and then have to spend the next three hours trying to back track my steps to figure out where I left them. (Although the older I get the less likely it is that I am taking my glasses off for anything because I can't see without them.  In fact the problem these days is I will go to bed at night and ten minutes after we have turned off the light I realize, as I try to roll over, that my glasses are still on my face.)

And then we come to the hearing aids.  This is by far, the greatest game of hide and seek I have ever played.  In the case of these little buggers I manage to "hide" them at least once a day and because they are so small it is almost impossible to find them.  Just this morning I was sitting on the edge of the bed and went to reach up on the top of the tall dresser to get my phone. The phone was exactly where I had left it so that was no problem.  The problem was that last night I had placed my two hearing aids right next to my phone so that when I swept the top of the dresser looking for my phone I swept one of my hearing aids onto the floor.  I heard it hit the floor just before I said a few choice words. I got out of bed and started the search using the flash light on my phone. I immediately found the battery for my hearing aid but the actual ear piece was missing. By now I am cursing like a veteran sailor while on my hands and knees looking for the damn thing. Finally I spotted it on the opposite side of the room . . . how it managed to travel six feet across the room is beyond me but sure enough, there it was.  

A week ago I lost both hearing aids in the middle of the afternoon when The Man went into the bedroom to take his afternoon siesta.  I usually go in and lie on the bed with him and play games on my I Pad while he rests.  When I do this I take out my hearing aids and enjoy the quiet time. This particular day I took them out after I got comfortable so in order not to disturb Sleeping Beauty I just placed them on the bed next to me. Once The Man was asleep I got up and went outside to get some fresh air under my favorite tree.  When he woke up and came out I realized I couldn't hear him so I went back inside to "put my ears in".  Except my "ears" were gone ! I looked all over the bed, on the floor, on the dresser, in the kitchen . . . NOTHING !  The Man came back in wondering what I was doing and I told him I couldn't find my hearing aids.  The search was on.  We looked EVERYWHERE but could not find them.  I KNEW I had left them on the bed but they just were not there.  After about forty minutes of searching The Man had a thought that maybe they had gotten wrapped up in his blanket which he had thrown on a shelf in the corner of the bed room.  As he picked up the blanket something hit the floor . . . hearing aid #1.  Hearing aid #2 was found shortly after on the floor under the shelf way in the back corner of the room.  

You really would think that I would be extra careful with these little buggers since they cost SO much money but my love of a good game of Hide and Seek wins out every time. 

THE NOT SO LAZY DAYS OF SUMMER

 I can not believe it is. August twenty third already.  We came up from Florida to Michigan on the 23 of May . . . THREE months ago !  How is that possible?  I remember thinking when we drove up here that I would be in MI maybe two or three WEEKS . . . and here I am three MONTHS later just loving life in this amazing country setting.  

I miss my grand kids something fierce,  especially the two that I would normally see every two or three days but some how or other we have stayed connected and made due with phone calls, texts and FaceTime. I would love to share this place up here with them  because I know they would love it as much as I do. I can only imagine the looks on their faces each night watching the deer come up to the yard for their nightly snack of corn.   That and all the different birds that show up each day to empty the bird feeder outside the kitchen window. 

But the very best part of being in Michigan this summer is the weather.  This afternoon The Man and I were sitting outside on the patio commenting on the sad fact that the majority of people in our country are HOT and sweaty for most of the summer. We tried to remember if there was any point in the past three months that we were hot and sweaty and there was only ONE day that we could remember it being uncomfortably warm.  No where near the heat and humidity that we left in Florida.  I think I may have discovered the very perfect life and even though this technically puts me in the dreaded category of "Snow Bird" I think I will continue with this life style for as long as I can. 

If The Man doesn't work me to death.

This country living, as wonderful as it is and as much as I do love it, sure does keep you busy.  I was thinking today that if I were home in Florida I would probably be sitting on the couch catching up on the three million episodes of different Netflix or Prime shows that I have not watched in three months all the while stuffing my face with junk food. It would be way too hot to do anything outside and thanks to Covid-19 the community pool is closed so there is no way I would be leaving the comfort of my air conditioning.  Up here I am out side every day, all day.  Because of his breathing issues The Man does not go outside as much as I do which is good because it gives me the opportunity to have some time to myself. 

EXCEPT . . . if there is anything to be done outside I am the one who gets to do it. With the exception of cutting the lawn.  For some reason The Man is hesitant to let me drive his lawn mower. Perhaps that is a very good thing so I'm not complaining because I have many other things to keep me busy. First and foremost is sitting under that big old Maple tree with a good book.

 I usually can't sit still for too long so I break up my time with walking around the apple trees picking up dead wood and tossing it in the fire pit so that every week or so we can burn the branches. These trees are all pretty old, even older than me, so there is always a lot of wood to be gathered.  ( A perk of living out in the country is that you can burn things you want to get rid of, as long as it's not the barn or the house. The Man tells the story of when he first moved out here he knocked down half of the old barn and burned it, much to the dismay of the neighbors down the road who thought the house was on fire and called the local fire department. The fireman were NOT happy!) I also have a flower bed that I have been working on cleaning out but that may take me a couple of years to get done.

Maybe all my "puttering" around has inspired The Man or maybe he just figured out he has some one dumb enough to enjoy doing all these things. What ever the reason this summer The Man has FINALLY decided to get rid of some of the stuff that is here. Last week he announced that he would like me to take some pictures of a FEW things in the attic and we would post them on Craigs List. We tried this with some things last year and it went no where but we thought we'd give it another try.  Unfortunately Craigs List was WAY too complicated for out ancient brains so I called my daughter-in-law in Atlanta to ask for some help with our postings.  Knowing who she was dealing with she suggested The Man and I post our stuff on Facebook Market Place.  FANTASTIC IDEA !!!  It was sooooooooo easy and the responses came in immediately. 

The only problem is that The Man has gotten Market Place fever and is now ready to sell EVERYTHING! As I have written in the past this is something that needed to be done but little did I realize I would be the one up in the attic and out in the garage pulling stuff out of nooks and crannies, closets and trunks. 

This past Friday I got to go up into the attic, which is accessed by a steep flight of stairs in the living room. My mission was to take pictures of EVERYTHING that is up there so that The Man could see what he wanted to sell.  (No way would he make it up those stairs with his COPD) Thank Heavens for the digital camera on my phone. Up to this point I had only been up in the Attic once before so I was actually excited to go explore this unchartered territory. There are three large rooms up there,  one is finished to be a bedroom, the other two have floor and walls but are only set up for storage.  I was like a kid in a candy shop !!  

The bedroom space had an assortment of things that had obviously just been put up there after The Man's wife died. There are beautiful wool blankets that she wove from the wool that she spun from the sheep that they raised. (This woman was WAY out of my league when it comes to crafts. I don't think there is a single craft that she did not master but that is a whole different blog.) 

The other two rooms looked like someone had emptied a warehouse and stuffed everything into the space of two bedrooms.   I can't even begin to list the things that I found up there but suffice to say we now have a parlor FILLED with weaving and spinning items ranging from spinning wheels, (yes . . .plural . . wheels, as in more than one) to yarn, wooL  and a ton of things that I don't have a clue what they are. 

Thankfully The Man was using his brain and had one of the neighbor kids come over on Saturday to help me bring all this stuff from the attic to the parlor where it is laid out like a showroom.  I doubt I could have been up and down those attic stairs more than once so Cooper, the kid, did all the lifting and carrying.  

And the reason for bringing it all down to the living room . . .   this morning we had a husband and wife from Indiana drive NINE hours to come see what The Man had for sale.  They had seen one of the items we had posted on Facebook and called us on Friday to say they were interested in the electric spinning wheel. (Who knew such a thing even existed! I sure as hell didn't.) Once The Man got talking to them they realized there was a treasure trove of things they wanted. And so they got into their car last night and drove all this way to come over here this morning where they almost cried when they saw what was here.  

This Indiana couple raise Alpacas and Lamas and the wife spins the hair from them into thread which she then weaves into who knows what. It was so awesome to see how excited she was over some of the stuff that we had here and it gave The Man a good feeling knowing his things were going to someone who REALLY appreciated them.  

Only problem is The Man is ready to sell all the other things that are here in this house and THAT means you know who will be digging in more closets and crannies. I think I'll go sit under that Maple tree so he can't find me. 

WARNING !!!!!! DREAMING MAY BE HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HEALTH !

 We live in an age of "Disclaimers" and warnings . . .   "Contents of cup may be hot",  "Swim at your own risk", and my personal favorite . . . "Do not stop on tracks".    I have said before and I will say it again, if you are THAT STUPID that you don't realize the hot coffee you just ordered is HOT or that if you stop on the rail road tracks. you may very likely get killed by a train then you don't deserve to be alive.   We are raising a nation of idiots that must be told everything and never be expected to use one ounce of common sense.  

That being said I do feel the need to post this warning about dreams.  

I have always dreamt . . . no matter if I am taking a half hour nap or sleeping twelve hours at night I will be dreaming the entire time.  My dreams are usually very entertaining and often seem very real.  As as child I had reoccurring dreams about a witch that lived in my parents bedroom at the top of the stairs.  I haven't dreamt of her in years.  Often I will dream of places that I have never been to in real life but I will visit them every year or so in my dreams.  I have no idea if these places are real or not.  Maybe they are from a previous life ?  I'll have to ask Shirley MacLaine about that.   And in case. you are wondering I dream in color.

All that being said . . . along with dreaming I talk in my sleep.  Alway have, apparently always will.  One of my most notable dream chats was when I was a freshman in college and my two roommates were up late studying. Since I never studied, (and almost flunked out that first year), I had gone to sleep earlier and although I have no idea WHAT I was dreaming about I still vividly remember coming awake telling my highly amused roommates, "There is grass in the rosary".  I never did live that one down and probably to this day if I were to meet these two women they would STILL remind me of that conversation.  

As the years have gone by I don't think I talk in my sleep much any more, at least The Man has not mentioned it if I do but instead I have developed an entirely new sleep issue.  I scream in my sleep. I will be dreaming that I am chasing someone and I want them to stop or I am shouting to make someone go away and I will SCREAM!  And I do mean scream, out loud, top of my voice and not only scare the bejebbers out of The Man but wake myself up.  Last night I did this TWICE !  The first time it was more of a little yell and I remember The Man reaching over and shaking me which really isn't necessary because as I have said, the shout always wakes me up. I remember muttering sorry, rolling over and going back to sleep. Within the hour I was dreaming again and this time the dream must have been disturbing enough that I was semi awake when I let out a blood curdling scream. The Man almost flew out of the bed and rather than the gentle nudge that I usually get he gave me a push to not only wake me up but to let me know I would be sleeping in the garage if I kept it up.  

As I lay there trying my damndest to suppress my giggles I really felt bad for the guy. I mean not only does he have severe COPD  he also has a heart that is only working at half its function. Waking him from a dead sleep with blood curdling screams can not be good for a healthy persons heart no less this poor guy who has a heart monitor/defibrillator implanted in his chest. The thought that I could cause The Man to have a heart attack immediately crossed my mind but then I remembered he did have this device in him so I really couldn't kill him. At least I hope not. 

I guess I will have to do some research to find out the cause of my yelling but until then I'll buy The Man some ear plugs.