Sunday, September 12th, 2021

 TERRY

As I begin to blog Terry is sleeping as it is 9:30.  She threw a scare into me last night.  She had not eaten or drank for some time but suddenly she had this violent coughing spell that had me wondering what to do but it passed after a several minutes and all was OK.  

After that I decided that there will be NO trip to the school reunion next weekend.  I will stay home and make sure Terry is doing as well as possible.  I did send some books to Carol in case anyone wants to buy one.  I am guessing I will get all of them back!

Sundays are often days when I tend to sit back, think back and today is no different.  When this happens I often think of the days when:

• Life was more simply
• The west side of the barn roof was a haven for thoughts and dreams
• The high school days of football and basketball loomed large
• I still can remember that pass that I did not catch or that runner that met his match on my end of the line.  And yes the memory also takes in that game with almost prefect shooting and 20+ points but then there is that game where I stunk up the court along with my teammates.  The long ride home in the back seat of the bus with a special friend did not even make up for the awful game.
• The high school days of special friends seemed so important
• The grade school days of bullying seems so hurtful (I held my own I promise) I was NOT the bully To this day I am thankful for being big and strong for my age at that time.  I know, times change!
• The farm days of Ronald/Glorine, Janet/John and Joan/Ron were so so important as a younger sibling I looked up to them as if they were some deity from heaven sent just for me.
• The farm days of rocks and rocks and rocks and rocks
• The deer hunting days in the badlands where I expected too see deer over every hill
• The days of riding the Harley Sprint with arms wrapped around me from the second seat.  To this day I don't know what I enjoyed more, the motorcycle or the wrap around arms!
• Days of picking weeds in rows of tiny trees and the rows seemed miles long
• Days of grinding deer meat until the arm ached but the reward was tremendous 
• Days of throwing the pocket knife into the board EVERY time from 20 feet
• Days of driving the Ford tractor with the rack behind to pickup stray piles of hay as Dave and Joan worked hard on the stack
• Drinking cool water from the vinegar gallon jug wrapped in burlap that was wet for cooling
• Throwing manure through the barn window and then driving the spreader to the west fields where the manure flew far and wide but making sure the wind was blowing away
• Days when Dave and I could avoid work and play cowboy/Indians or cops and robbers with wooden guns cut out of old scrap wood held in place with the antique vise in the shop
• Cold days of carrying kerosene into the livingroom stove in a 5 gallon pail and Not spilling a drop
• Cool perfect fall days of burning weeds in the field and Dave and I using hollow reeds to pretend we were smoking

Ok, the list could go on for a long time but enough.  The memories are priceless but the time is catching up on oneself.  Dave is no more here on earth and those days for me seem so so far away.  Good times but they are times of the past and today, well life is different but I am thankful.

I indulged a bit today, Sunday, and had 1/4 cup of Irish cream in my FP.  Sundays are often like that.  I just checked on Terry and still she is sound asleep so the house is quiet, I would say too quiet but it is what it is.  So here we are.  Another week to do what we are meant to do.  As I look on my calendar I notice that this week has important dates. They include Gail's death, Esther's birthday, Marly's birthday, Tavish/Tait's birthday and Marlys/Dave's wedding date from way back in 1965.  More tomorrow.