Laughing together

It was one of those days when both of us had long job jar lists, were tired from a prior day of tree cutting, and our minds were fretting about our granddaughter's continuing bout with a stomach flu. We carefully managed each job and were actually feeling pretty good about whittling down our lists.

About mid-afternoon, we both seemed to run out of brainpower, I guess. I was mowing the back yard when Angela stepped outside onto the patio and motioned for me to ‘pull over and turn off the mower’. I did. She walked over with a big grin on her face. “You’d probably have more success,” she said, “if you put the blade down.” I looked at the yard and realized I hadn’t taken off more than a half inch of grass. I looked at Angela’s broad smile, put the blade down and broke out in guffaws. She joined me. She soon returned inside and I started the mower.

I put away the lawn tractor and headed into the house. The sweeper was going, so I walked in to report that her suggestion had resulted in a nicely cut lawn. I reached the hall and stopped dead in my tracks. Angela was sweeping the laundry room with the wand. The body of our upright Kirby stood at the doorway facing into the room. Dust and small debris the dogs had brought in was puffing out from the zipper area. A small, but growing, pile was forming in the hallway. A grin spread across my face as I stepped into the laundry room and tapped her on the shoulder. I waited for her to turn off the sweeper and then said, “I think you forgot to put the bag in the sweeper.” I pointed into the hall. She looked at the little pyramid of dust in the hallway and broke into a giggling fit. Ten minutes later, she was sucking up the mess with the shop-vac and heading to the Kirby store for replacement bags.

I love these times when we’ve caught each other in little boo-boos and can laugh together at our foibles. Ah yes, it's another Best Thing About Being Married to a T!

Hormones don't change everything or My T has a boo-boo

Hormones don't change everything. Angela still has that thing about not going to doctors that most guys have. So, while working on installing the new sink, she got a boo-boo - a scratch from a staple. It didn't bleed much, and it didn't seem serious, so she didn't worry about it. A couple of days later, she showed me that the area seemed to have become infected. I suggested she open it up and give it a good cleaning out, which she promptly ignored. Well, it got worse. I know that doesn't come as a big surprise to most of you, but it did to her. We left for our RV trip on Thursday, and by then, it had begun to show little spots of puss through the pores of her skin in the growing area of infection. By this morning, the area that had been about the size of a silver dollar, had grown to encompass the better part of her forearm. So, we headed for the local emergency room. We were shown to a room quickly, and Angela was immediately put on an antibiotic drip. She was also given antibiotics in pill form. The drip took a tad over an hour, and when it was all done, we headed for the local drugstore to fill the prescription. All is well, and her arm is already looking better. She has felt fine through all of this, but she will have to hear a few, "I told you sos" from me over not taking care of her injury when it happened AND NOT GOING TO THE DOCTOR when it starting looking bad! So, hormones may change many things, but it doesn't change hat old "no need to see a doctor" attitude. I still have the perfect T, but I have to warn you, Hormones Don't Change Everything!