“My heart has always beat thunderstorms instead of blood.” ~ Gabriel Gadfly, from Supercell

Rapeseed field barn, Cotswold, UK by Eri Hossinger (FCC)

“Our hearts teach us how to fly with wings of pain.” ~ Frank Lima, from “Felonies and Arias of the Heart”

Saturday afternoon, sunny and warmer, 57 degrees.

This afternoon Corey is adding a modified barbed wire to the pasture enclosure so that we can move the goats there. It should keep them in and keep predators out, at least, that’s the intent. I really don’t like barbed wire, and I know that part of that is because of how it looms darkly through the movie Legends of the Fall. Hey, at least I’m being honest.

Spring wildflowers at Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge in Oklahoma by USFWS (FCC)

On Thursday, Corey and I made the trip to Bristol, Tennessee so that I could have an  echocardiogram and ultrasound. The echo was to check out a suspected murmur, and the ultrasound was for my thyroid. But as usual, things did not go as planned. I did have the correct day this time, but I did not know that I would have to pay the copay upfront for the ultrasound. While it was only $16.78, I did not have the local bank card with me; Corey had it, so I had to cancel the ultrasound; this was the second time I had to cancel it. However, when I reschedule I might be able to have the test done somewhere closer to home. Here’s hoping.

Anyway, it seems that the echo went fine; the tech said that my heart pictures were “beautiful,” which was about all that she could tell me, of course, because they aren’t allowed to say anything as the test has to be read by a cardiologist. I wasn’t too worried about the murmur as such things are supposedly fairly common, and obviously, it wasn’t something that I’ve had all of my life.

However, years ago, my heart used to click whenever I lay on my side. It did that for a couple of years and then went away. I remember telling some doctor and was told that it was nothing, and since it went away, I never thought about it again until the echo.

“We’ve paid our dues. Our hearts are inscribed
with loss after loss.” ~ Luci Tapahonso, from “The Holy Twins”

So after leaving the hospital and while I still had a 3G signal, I tried to call my insurance company to see if I could change my PCP. I’ve tried a couple of times to do so online, but I’ve locked myself out of the account. Turns out, the doctor with whom I have an appointment on Monday isn’t even in network, even though she’s part of the local medical network. It’s all such bullshit. I ate up minutes trying to clarify with the insurance rep, only to find out that the echo that I had just had done wasn’t covered; the urgent care visit that I had when my fingertip was bitten off wasn’t covered either.

I did not wail uncontrollably into the telephone, which was my internal reaction; instead, I just asked the rep to transfer me to tech support, but when she did, I was put on hold. I just didn’t have it in me to stay on hold any longer and eat up valuable minutes just to have the online account unlocked. Frankly, I’d had more than enough stress for one day.  I don’t even want to know what my blood pressure was at that point.

I’m keeping the appointment on Monday with the out-of-network PCP because I’ve had such a horrendous time finding competent doctors around here. Apparently, the co-pay will only be $5 instead of $0 for an in-network doctor, so that’s not prohibitive (she says even though we are currently broker than broke and sorely lacking in things like, oh, milk . . . whatever).

“And I knew you, a swelling in the heart,
A silence in the heart, the wild wind-blown grass
Burning—as the sun falls below the earth—
Brighter than a bed of lilies struck by snow.” ~ Brigit Pegeen Kelly, from “Elegy”

In other news, Max and Ruby (the goats) are finally beginning to forage, which they weren’t doing initially. The pair of them are actually very quiet. For some reason, I always thought that goats were loud when they bleat, but I’ve only heard them bleat quietly. Maybe different breeds of goats bleat at different levels. I suppose we shall find out.

Dallas hasn’t been around here since the dog fight. Apparently, the fight frightened him. I’m not complaining as it’s been an unexpected boon for me. It’s been quiet, but that’s not to say that he still doesn’t call Corey frequently for rides to various places or for help, and of course Corey so generously assists..

Spring in Bornich, Germany by Mark Strobl (FCC)

Speaking of animals, we’ve been dragged into the periphery of a local feud of sorts. Dallas has a nephew who has property on the ridge. This is the same guy whose livestock has been frequently found grazing and roaming on the road in search of food, something we’ve witnesses ever since we rounded a corner and almost hit a horse the first time we came here.

Well apparently this guy had a cow and its calf who wandered onto someone’s property, and the idiot son of the property owner shot the cow, leaving the nursing calf without a mother. Unbelievable. Corey and I heard about it, and I was livid at the ignorance that would make someone think that this was an okay thing to do. I mean, what happened to saying shoo and waving your arms?

It seems that calling the police and suing one another is another local pastime around here, and Dallas and this nephew do not get along. The day after this happened, and to be neighborly, Corey stopped while he was out and asked the guy if he had found the calf yet. The guy hadn’t found the calf, but he had accusations to throw, mentioning Dallas’s name and insinuating that Corey might have something to do with it.

Corey assured him that he knew nothing at all about the situation other than hearing about the cow being shot, and then he drove off. When Corey told me about this, I did not have a good feeling, and Corey described this guy as being incredibly arrogant. Nevertheless, we had hoped that would be the last we would hear of things.

“It’s raining in my heart.” ~ Tim Dlugos, from “Come in from the Rain”

Listen, we moved here to get away from nosy neighbors, petty comments, and city regulations, and we’ve made it a point to mind our own business. We’re friendly, and will wave and say hello, but for the most part, we don’t know or care to know who is doing what to whom at any given time, including the saga of the cow and her calf.

Unfortunately, things did not end there.

Dallas took the cow carcass to his property supposedly to get rid of it, but not quite. And then the next day he and Travis, another neighbor we know, wanted Corey to help them load up the calf. Dallas said that he was going to let the calf nurse on his milk cow. Neither Corey nor I wanted any part of this, but Corey agreed to help round it up but nothing else.

Pared y Cefn-hir and Cregennan lakes, Snowdonia, Gwynedd, Wales, UK by Welsh Photographer (FCC)

I had real misgivings about all of this and was still really upset about the jackass who murdered the mother cow. Corey helped load the calf and came home. When Dallas and Travis got down the ridge, the police were waiting for them and wanted to know where they were taking the calf. Smooth talker that he thinks he is, Dallas said that they had found the calf and were returning it to his nephew. The cops had them unload the calf and then let them go.

That night, Dallas said that around 1 a.m. he heard horns honking, and he went out to find his nephew’s horses in the road. Dallas said that he rounded up the horses and put them in his pasture for the night and then went back to bed. The next morning, the local cops showed up with a warrant (kind of fishy, the timing of that), claiming that Dallas had stolen his nephew’s horses. Corey happened to be at Dallas’s at the time. They took Dallas in, and said that he’d be released that afternoon.

“She treats the dark like a cathedral.
She is all swallow, the heart working
under every scale to outgrow a fortified spiral.
The cathedral swallows the heart.” ~ Amber Flora Thomas, from “Shed”

This whole situation is unbelievable, but that’s not the end. That night, one of Dallas’s RV campers was set on fire. Dallas sometimes sleeps in this particular camper, which is behind his house and on the edge of his property; fortunately, he didn’t happen to be in it on this particular night.

Now Dallas is talking about getting his lawyer involved, and he still has to go to court over the horses, and his nephew has apparently moved his horses and cows somewhere else. I’m just hoping that wherever he has relocated his livestock, that he takes better care of them and feeds them better because they were always breaking out and wandering in the road looking for areas in which to graze.

Canola Flower at Showa Commemorative National Government Park, Tokyo by Takashi M (FCC)

All in all, I’m really over all of this. These people around here need to find better ways to spend their time and leave us out of it. I know that it’s a small-town mentality to be up in everyone else’s business, but seriously? WTF, people?

I had thought that  my old neighbors on Benjamin were busy bodies, but they were small time compared to these people. I’m just glad that we had already been pulling back in our dealings with Dallas. The whole “painted by the same brush” mentality apparently applies: if you associate with someone, then obviously you are guilty by association.

Give me a break.If this is how it’s going to be, then perhaps my decision to become a hermit has not been ill-founded after all.

More later. Peace.


Anniversary

2

I lied a little. There are things I don’t want to tell you. How lonely
I am today and sick at heart. How the rain falls steadily and cold
on a garden grown greener, more lush and even less tame. I
haven’t done much, I confess, to contain it. The grapevine, as
usual, threatens everything in its path, while the raspberry canes,
aggressive and abundant, are clearly out of control. I’m afraid the
wildflowers have taken over, being after all the most hardy and
tolerant of shade and neglect. This year the violets and lilies of
the valley are rampant, while the phlox are about to emit their
shocking pink perfume. Oh, my dear, had you been here this
spring, you would have seen how the bleeding hearts are thriving.

~ Madelon Sprengnether (from Angel of Duluth)


Music by Jane Olivor, “Come in from the Rain” (a favorite song from my past)

 

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If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday evening, sunny, and 58 degrees.

No walk today. Became obsessed with trying to find something I’d seen before online but couldn’t remember the exact name or where I first saw it. So . . .  many hours later, it was already 5 p.m.

Enjoy.


Dorothy and Golden Girls forever:

So, who’s been spying on me?

I’m not ashamed to admit that I really miss “Rugrats.”  I think that I liked it more than my sons did:

And this is why I no longer allow myself to enter a T.J. Maxx:

And finally:

Clarion-Ledger, Jackson, Mississippi, December 14, 1937

“I swing on a continuum between ridiculous and sublime.” ~ Amit K. Ghosh

 
If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday afternoon, more rain, 47 degrees.

I really think that it doesn’t rain nearly enough around here . . . not. The only good thing about all of the rain here is listening to it at night as it falls on the tin roof.

Anyway, sorry no post yesterday. I could think of nothing to say. Corey spent the day in bed as it’s his turn to be sick. Honestly, I wonder how long we’ll swap this bug, whatever it is. He’s better today, but he was also better earlier in the week, so who knows . . .

I’m fairly certain that the header quote is a take on Marshall McLuhan’s quote, “All through his life, he swung between the ridiculous and the sublime,” which comes from his famous 1964 book, The Medium is the Message.

(Just an aside here: I cannot believe how many people online think that the word is massage, not message . . . We really need to go back to spelling tests in grade school.)

Pretty good collection today, so enjoy.

More later. Peace.


Michigan ghost apples caused by extremely cold temperatures (found here):

Yep.

Also yep:

The Baltimore Sun, Maryland, February 8, 1932

This reminded me of how my old dogs used to try to get on the hammock with me . . .

Completely logical:

From This Isn’t Happiness:

I used to love this show:

And finally:

“Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.” ~ Aldous Huxley, from Complete Essays 2, 1926-29

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday afternoon, overcast and drizzle once again, 54 degrees.

Don’t even get me started on the presidential faux state of emergency.

During the night when I opened the door to let the dogs out, I was hit in the face with the smell of impending spring, which is miraculous considering we have horses and the accompanying smell of equine eau du poo. It almost made the sleeplessness worth it. Almost.

I began a post on Monday, picked it up again yesterday, and still haven’t finished it. So . . . should I finish or scrap it and start over? Thoughts, opinions, ideas?

Anyway, enjoy today’s collection.


I want a red hat that says this:

Seen in the window at Gulf of Maine Books in Brunswick, Maine. Photo: Bill Roorbach

I want a baby elephant . . .

Why all of the reminders about my age?

The entire automotive industry was against seat belts at one time. Now, they spend all of their time trying to out do one another with more and more safety features. Go figure . . .

I cannot even begin to list the number of times this happened to me when I had to get up for work . . .

I love this one:

Sounds about right:

And finally this:


Music by Cardboard Kids, “Echo Boomer”

“It is complete balderdash. It is an inverted pyramid of piffle. It is all completely untrue and ludicrous conjecture. I am amazed people can write this drivel.” ~ Boris Johnson, British politician and journalist

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

I thought that I had scheduled this, but . . . apparently not . . .


Sometimes, I really miss the Simpsons (I know that they’re still on. I just stopped watching years ago):

Myrmecomorphy:

I can relate:

This fact is actually quite sad:

Wow. Deep philosophy for a newspaper:

The Windsor Star, Ontario, June 7, 1929

But look at Jeremy Irons’s arms . . .

Data was always my favorite:

“I chose cultural anthropology, since it offered the greatest opportunity to write high-minded balderdash.” ~ Kurt Vonnegut, from Palm Sunday: An Autobiographical Collage

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday evening, slightly warmer temperatures, 36 degrees.

A little late in getting this post up. Corey has so generously shared his cold with me. He’s getting better, and I, if things go true to form, seem to be on my way to bronchitis. The only good thing is that I actually have a doctor’s appointment next week, just for a check-in, but if my chest goes the way it tends to go, I should be good and wheezy by the time I get to my appointment.

No. I’m not willing it into existence, but seriously . . . I know my body’s response by now. As I sit here in my pajamas trying to will enough energy to bathe, sweat is running down my brow, and it’s not because it’s hot in here.

Just a few minutes ago, I poured my ginger tea into my soda water glass instead of the tea cup, and it took me a minute to realize what was wrong. It’s pathetic, actually. Thank god I don’t need to interact with real people.

I mean really . . . it would just be embarrassing. Anyway, I like my collection for today. I hope you enjoy.

More later. Peace.


I love this. I wonder if Corey would notice if I started flapping a handkerchief at him:

The Mystery of Love, Courtship and Marriage Explained, Henry J. Wehman, 1890

But I love this more:

The Highland Weekly News, Hillsboro, Ohio, March 4, 1875

I never did solve mine:

This is kind of like the guy who invented soft serve ice cream by mistake when the ice cream in his truck began to melt:

And then there’s this accident:

I have a real abhorrence of canned vegetables, except for corn. Weird, huh?

This is too true:

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry:

I told you dogs were better than people:

This is too cool:

“Your reality, sir, is lies and balderdash and I’m delighted to say that I have no grasp of it whatsoever” ~ Terry Gilliam, from The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (movie)

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday afternoon, brilliantly sunny and cold, 33 degrees.

I actually feel like writing today, so I’ll work on tomorrow’s post since I already had today’s post ready to go. Quite an assorted collection.

Enjoy.


From funnymemes:

From memescomedy:

Hilarious:

From anxietyproblem:

Tillie used to do this with dog cookie boxes:

Love this from John Atkinson:

From ultrafacts:

Sooo tempting: