Work Release

My mini-stroke may just be the illness causing me to have thick, phlegmy mucus.  That's a crazy thing to hope for, right?  But I've friends who also have this malady.  Tennessee asked me if I had a sore throat.  I didn't.  He did.  Now, as of last night, I have a sore throat.  Yay!  

Could it be The 'Vid?  

"Everything is covid now."

I had gone back to bed after my morning post, but I had much to do, so I got up and, again, soldiered on.  I got my mother set up with her meds and headed to my house.  I had to put it back together for the maids who are coming Tuesday.  It is difficult for me to believe that two weeks ago, I told them not to come because of the reconstruction.  My carpenter is working sloooowwww.  

When I walked into the house, I felt overwhelmed, but I've learned in this past year that my problem with manual labor has always been my desire to get it over with.  I rush.  I took a few breaths and began, one box, one item at a time.  I had to make decisions.  All of this was not going back on the shelves.  A huge box of old teas--gone.  Whew.  Some odd, one-off beer glasses.  Gone.  A Lazy Susan I bought a long time ago to put into my deep cabinets.  A bunch of bar-b-q utensils.  On and on.  The rest got put away better than before.  Hours passed.  The floor in the dining and living room was clear.  The big garbage can outside half full.  There were big boxes of things I decided to keep, but in the garage, not in the house.  Many trips.  I changed the filter in the a.c.  It requires a ladder.  My ladder is heavy.  My ceiling is 9'2".  It hardly ever goes smoothly, but this time it did.  I put away the rollers and paint brushes I had left outside.  I called my mother to see if she was O.K.  Neighbors were there.  Good.  I grabbed the sheets and pillowcases that needed to be washed.  I don't have hot water yet, so I would have to do that at my mother's.  I folded and put away the laundry I had brought back.  

I showered.  

My mountain buddy had called me earlier.  He was in town until Monday morning.  He wanted to get together.  I told him I didn't think I could.  He wanted to hear about my woes.  His mother is nearly as old as mine.  She is going through much the same thing now.  His dad is going through what I am, taking care of her, but he is 95.  There is one other difference.  

"I didn't marry my mother."

After my shower, I had a text from him.  He was meeting another friend at a brewery at 3:30.  I wrote back saying that I didn't think I could be very social.  Four.  I decided to make a Negroni.  I sat down at the computer and asked A.I. to do illustrative things some of my photos.  I liked the results as much as I liked my photographs.  Others may not.  I find it fascinating.  You have to give good instructions and it takes awhile.  Sometimes you get lousy results.  But not always.  Of course, ChatGPT won't work with many of my photos.  They go against company policy or something.  It is a shame.  

I was out of Campari.  I decided to make a trip to the liquor store.  It was halfway to the brewery.  Should I go?  

I showed up just as the other friend was leaving.  Larry.  You've seen him in the Dancing Larry videos I've put on YouTube.  He didn't look so good.  I was glad he was leaving.  I didn't have the energy.  

I got an outside table and my buddy and his wife joined me.  We needed chairs.  I got up to ask at other tables.  A couple sat together.  She was very pretty.  I approached but they didn't look up, so I leaned onto the table and asked, "Do you mind if I sit here with you?"  Oh, Christ. . . the look.  "Just kidding," I said.  "May I borrow one of your chairs?"

I don't get out enough.  

My buddy's wife was getting a little--I don't know--peckish.  They'd been at the bar for an hour already and she was getting hungry.  

"I need something to eat now.  Should I order food here or are we going to dinner or what?"

"How about some boiled peanuts for an hors d'oeuvre?  They have great boiled peanuts here."

She stared at me.  "I've never had boiled peanuts," she said.  

"Oh, you're kidding?  You'll love them.  You are in for a treat."

I went inside to get the peanuts and a beer.  My buddy joined me.  

"Let me buy you a beer," he offered.  

When the waitress handed me the beer, I left him and said, "You get the peanuts.  I'm going to sit with your girlfriend."

"Wife," he said.  "You married us."

He ordered the Buffalo Wing peanuts.  She was cautious, then she wasn't.  

"These are good," she said.  

"Those are staples here in the sunny south."

We chatted for an hour.  Then the phones began to ring.  His from his sister about his mom.  Mine from my mother.  

"My ankles are really swelling," she said.  

"I'll be right there." 

And just like that, it was over.  I'd had my fun.  The rest of the night wasn't as good.  

So yea. . . I went to bed with a sore throat and woke up with one, too.  It could be a lazy day once I wash the sheets and take them back to the house.  

One thing is funny, though.  My mother had boiled a chicken all afternoon, and when I got home, I chopped carrots, potatoes, onions, peppers, and garlic to make the soup.  At the end I added baby spinach leafs.  Chicken soup.  Isn't that supposed to cure a cold?