Monthly Archives: September 2016

The Gun is Turned

I suppose some of you are aware that I am the (unproud) owner of a gun.  It’s a BB gun, in a feminine color, and has almost no power at all  I purchased it for the sole reason of discouraging squirrels and pesky blackbirds, starlings and cowbirds from the bird feeders that I enjoy so much.


I’ve been disappointed in the effectiveness of this weapon.  The squirrels that I managed to hit have mostly just run away quickly and seem to return shortly, while the ones I miss look up questioningly, hop to a nearby perch or hide behind the tree trunk and wait (unless I pursue them, then they scramble up the tree, and hop from treetop to treetop until they are back in the big woods).

Over the last two months, I’ve been so busy with life and harvest and canning and company and traveling and sadness that my PIG (Pink Ineffective Gun) has mostly stood quietly in a hidden corner of the closet of my laundry room.  The times when I most wanted to use it were around 7:30 each morning when the squirrels would visit the platform feeder outside my kitchen window.  But 7:30 is a time of great intent for me as I am feeding breakfasts, packing a lunch, giving my ladies morning meds and trying to be ready for a DART bus that is often unpredictable.  So I mutter unkind words at them from my kitchen sink and will occasionally pound on the window, but by the time BL is on her bus, they have usually retreated.  So, my PIG has languished, out of sight.

Yesterday morning, I needed to go to see my dentist for a filling that was slowly developing behind my front teeth.  I got up and was trying to get around as quickly as I could.  My appointment was for nine o’clock, and my house was in shambles.  I had pretty much embarrassed myself thoroughly the night before by inviting Weston and Stephanie over on the spur of the moment to have a quick supper with us.  Certain Man had smoked some beef, and we had boiled potatoes, steamed cauliflower and the fixin’s for potato bar.  I had decided to invite them while I was out in the bean patch and had forgotten what state the house was in. Youngest Daughter was home and she and Middle Daughter lent their helping hands, but nothing was anywhere near the way I wanted it when they showed up.  There was laundry in the laundry room, leaves from the day strewn all over the place, and even though the food was ready, and we had a great time, I had to hold my tongue to not apologize for the state of my house.  When I got up yesterday morning, I purposed that I was going to have the floors swept, the laundry room in order and the areas straightened that had given me so much grief.

For those of you who may be wondering why the laundry room is getting so much attention in this missive, it’s because everyone who enters our house through the back door (which, for all practical purposes is everyone!) comes through the laundry room on their way in.  It’s just the way our house is.  And my closet doors hang open when I’m doing laundry and I had been doing laundry all day on Monday, and wasn’t finished.  As I went past the closet on my way to do something else, I noticed that, not only was the doors hanging open, but it was really dirty in that closet with dust bunnies and some hangers that had fallen down and even the bottom part of my PIG showing below the row of hang up clothes on the closet rod.  So I grabbed the broom as I was going past, and pulled out the various and sundry things and swept it out, hung up the hangers, and put things back in that belonged in there and shut the doors.

Whew!  I got it all done.  It was eight thirty, and I was planning to leave in fifteen minutes.  I flew upstairs and brushed my teeth, power washed them with my little gadget, swished my mouthwash, and washed my face.  I grabbed a housecoat and my everyday clothes and flew downstairs to find sister in law, Lena, waiting for me.  She was going in for a brief consult, as well.  The outfit that I wanted to wear was hanging in the laundry room closet and a threw open the folding doors and grabbed my skirt from its hanger and reached for a pretty top.  All of the sudden it happened.  That PIG turned on me!

From its perfectly upright position, it grabbed the hem of my skirt as it went by and came crashing down flat.  On my toes.  On my right foot.  It slammed with totally unnecessary force, and I still do not understand how it could ever have hit so hard.  Ker-shlam!!!

“Ouch!”  I said, loudly, but not nearly as loudly as the pain in my foot was hollering.

“What happened?” Asked Lena and Middle Daughter.  “Are you alright?”

I could barely answer, the pain was so overwhelming.  “Oh, OUCH!”  I said again.  “My gun fell on my foot!”

I was out of their sight, so I kinda hopped around a bit, and made quiet grimaces of pain and tried to not cry.  Oh, I WANTED to cry, but I didn’t think that I could warrant much sympathy from that puny Pink Ineffective Weapon falling on my toe.

So I swallowed it up, finished dressing, got my sandals slid them on, and then went on down to the dentist to get my filling.  I had to get a shot in the front of my mouth, and my foot ached and I hate going to the dentist and life wasn’t looking very bright.  But I tried to be cheerful and I was grateful for the dentist’s ability to give shots and my tooth got fixed and I came on home.

I worked on things for my ladies, eventually picked lima beans, made some apple dumplings and cleaned my kitchen.  My foot ached, but there were lots of other things crowding my mind.

Finally, last night when I was getting ready for bed, I happened to notice that my big toe looked really rather strange.  I had kinda forgotten about the injustices of the morning but this bore some attention.  My big toe had a purple stripe across the joint, the next toe had a purple stripe across the joint and the third toe had a bit of discoloration.  My toes are not aesthetically pleasing anyhow, and this certainly did not add to their state by any means.  Certain Man was already asleep, so I couldn’t tell him, but I looked at my poor toes and they suddenly hurt worse.

Oh, well.  I decided to go to bed and see if they would keep me awake.  They didn’t.  I slept really, really well, and this morning they are just as purple, but they don’t really hurt very much.

I tried to tell Certain Man all about this morning, but I don’t think he even heard my tale of woe.  Mornings are a bad time to tell him anything anyhow, so I shall ask him later if he remembers me telling him.

And that’s the news from Shady Acres this morning, where the PIG is back in its corner, the day is  looking grand, and this Delaware Grammy is hoping for some quality time with her sisters.

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