Fleetingly Carol

The Devil had passed, but not Princess’ memory of him. She stayed with the shakes, like the DTs. She shook so violently inside the crate, I was afraid for her.  The wild dog came out in her as we tried to approach the crate to check on her wounds. We couldn’t open it for fear that she would escape and try to dig a hole in the floor or couch again. Old Man and I decided it was time to call Eldest Son. He told us that if we couldn’t keep her, call him. We couldn't and we did. Eldest Son had just lost his job, his car was repossessed and was in no way able to come to our aid. He lived several states away. We talked and we cried. We came up with this solution and that solution, but none were acceptable. He finally said the most feared words, words that I knew were coming, but didn’t want to accept. He had a friend who practiced veterinary medicine and who lived close to us. Eldest Son said he would make the call. As we were talking, Eldest Son was on speaker-phone so Old Man cou

         The trees did their voodoo dance, conjuring up a thunderstorm to rain down on our little house. Old Man was on the lawn tractor, completely oblivious to the warning signs, ears plugged up with strains of Satchmo. The first drops of rain on his glasses sent him into action.           He drove the lawn mower across the yard and into the shed, hopped off and ran to Poor Hound Dog who is being treated for heart worms. He wanted to get him into the house before he became too excited about the Devil bearing down. He glanced in Princess Super-girl's pen to make sure she was secure and safe. Leading Poor Hound Dog across the yard, Old Man remembered the windows were down in his truck. Remembering the windows down in his truck led him to look over at the neighbor’s vehicle to check their windows. They were down. Now it was a race to the finish.            Poor Hound Dog had to be kept very calm, because any active behavior may break up a clump of heart worms in his veins tha

When Old Man was Young Man and the kids were younger - when the world was new and all, dinners could sometimes be very, oh, what's the word? tense. Ours was a very nontraditional dinner-time. We ate with one another with no television running in the background for distraction. This, Dear Reader, is ancient history, not even cable or dish networks had been invented, much less the Internet, computers and cell phones. I don't know how families do it these days. Why, I was on that very popular social website (which I can't name because of the Terms of Service on Blogger, the hosting website for this blog. I am not allowed to say their name, or any product name, for that matter). Anyway, here I was reading all the posts by family and friends, when a new one from Son came through. It simply said, "Daughter, get downstairs, dinner is ready." Not 2 seconds later, Daughter posted, "But, Dad, I'm right in the middle of a school project." Her father's res

It's two o'clock in the morning and Old Man is fussing at me for being up and on the computer. I'd like to know what he's doing up to be fussing. Shouldn't he be in bed? But, he just worries about me. He can't sleep if he thinks I'm having a bad night. So, right now, he's sitting across the room, fingers drumming the arm of the chair because he knows that helps me keep up with the time better. He's just sweet that way. So, I have to tell you just this one thing, dear Reader. I'm on a very famous and ubiquitous social network, along with Old Man, our children, their spouses and their children, my siblings, my aunts, uncles and cousins and everyone I've known since I was five years old. You know the one. Well, whenever one of my family posts a comment on their page, I receive a text message on my cell phone. My cell phone also doubles as my alarm clock, so it stays by my bedside at night. Two hours ago, a text came in when Dear Daughter pos

My, my! It's been over a month since I've blogged. I can't believe it! Where has the time gone? You might say I've been out galavantin' around. Or, you might say I've been very busy at work and was coming home too exhausted to write. Or, you might say I've been working very hard on the old homestead that I've been wearing myself out. Or, you might say that I've just been loafing around. It sounds very contradictory, but given I haven't been here since the end of June all of those things could have and, indeed did happen. I had a very busy and exhausting summer at work. I mean, you try punching all those numbers in a computer and see how tired you become! Hence, I had to take some time off. I went galavantin' with Older Daughter and her 2 daughters, Granddaughter 1 and Granddaughter 2. (That's not to say they are anything like Thing 1 and Thing 2.) It is especially fun and refreshing to travel with a 5 year old and a 3 year old. Gran

Even at the tender age of 10, my son had a need for organization. I never had a problem with his room being uncluttered. Notice, dear Reader, I did not use the word 'clean' because this child didn't understand that dirt and dust was clutter, too, just of a smaller ilk. My son loved to arrange my cabinets. In fact, I believe it was he (although he has not claimed it even to this day) who alphabetized my spices and my canned goods. We once lived in an apartment that was well-appointed with all of the latest in European accroutrements. It was a small kitchen, but the storage was amazing! Everything had its place and it was easy to keep everything in its place, which pleased my son very much. Now, this child is not the only child I have and so, therefore, I have a very strict rule about yelling within the confines of our abode. I have watched otherwise sane adults go tottering down hallways after being summoned by a tiny disembodied voice. I decided in my pre-child days tha

Do you remember the "Leave it to Beaver" television show? There is one episode where Beaver creates a neighborhood newspaper; his brother looks over the paper and reads, "Weather, none." Wally asks the Beaver, "What do you mean, Beaver, there is no weather?" Beaver's answer was that since there was no wind or rain, storms or tornadoes, there was no weather.  That's the way my day has run. It's been on auto-pilot most of the day and no significant humorous thing has occurred. I was talking to my son about this predicament, when it suddenly struck me. I could write about something that happened years ago, when this son was only 7 or 8. You see, this particular son has been a jokester from day one! He decided to arrive 2 weeks early, to the surprise of his parents. And he hasn't quit surprising us and making us laugh since. His favorite holiday is April 1 and our story takes place on this holiday. Jokester decides that since no one had pla