Life at Homeland Farm

An early letter to Santa...         Dear Santy...                Well, it is a bit early for a letter I know, but I have had a little "incident", and it made it very clear what I should ask for this Christmas. As you are probably aware, I have bad knees, and while it would be really cool if you could give me two good knee joints, I know that isn't an option. Since the last three days have been pretty darn busy with Thanksgiving and all it's work, followed by a rousing dialysis session in which they tried desperately to suck off 2 bottles of champagne, I have been pretty much riding on my Rascal scooter all afternoon. That is how "the incident" occurred.               After my post dialysis nap, I hopped onto my scooter and cruised to the kitchen, granny nightie and all, trying to figure out a simple supper that did...

      I like a speedy vehicle, I admit it. I imagine you are thinking I am talking about driving in a car. Nope, not a car. I am talking about driving in what we call a "go buggy". You know what I am talking about...Those motorized scooters they provide for us gimpy folks at most big box stores.       Since my knees have taken a turn for the worse, I have to ride on them if I am planning on shopping for more then 15 minutes at a time. If I don't ride, and am shopping for more then 15 minutes, my left leg goes numb due to the previous blood clots I had in that leg. Then my bad knees kick in, and I am miserable and in pain in no time. So now, a "go buggy" is a necessity for me.       At first, I hated using them in stores, but now I hate pain even more, so ride I do. Walmart usually has a good supply of them for people to use, and only once did I have to knock an old lady out of the way to get the last one. Kiddi...

      As I walked through the living room this morning, carrying a basket of laundry, it occurred to me it is going to be a very, very long winter. Now you may think it is the thought of snow, or cold, or messy floors. If you have read some of my previous posts, you may even think it is because there will soon be buckets and buckets of horse mash lining my laundry room wall. All of the above reasons are true, but not the reason I had that dismal thought this morning.        The reason for my pessimism this morning was the fact that the simple act of walking past the pellet stove, set on a minimal ONE setting, carrying the partially filled laundry basket was enough to send me into a steaming, sweat on my brow HOT FLASH.         Yes sir, at the ripe old age of 51, I am apparently smack dab in the middle of what the older generations used to whisper about in hushed tones..."THE CHANGE." Now, I am...

Politicians at the door       Finally. It is over. It is election day at last. Perhaps after tonight, we will be able to have a dinner without a call from Babs..(Barbara Bush), Ollie..(Olympia Snow) or Annie (Ann Lepage.) I am not sure if it is just me or not, but this election seems to have gone on for an eternity. I think I speak for all people, Reps or Dems, when I say Hallelujah! IT IS DONE. Let the best man, woman, or bear win. In honor of the end of the political assault (for awhile anyway..), a poem. AHEM....                                  Politics Schmolitics        It starts as early as January,        every other year..        the endless commercials, debates and phone calls,        I've lear...