a few things of no consequence whatsoever
by Bella Rum
- I went to my pulmonologist yesterday. They always make me step on the scale. I don’t get why a lung guy/gal is so interested in what I weigh, but what do I know? I was down three pounds since my last visit. I’ll take it.
- I dreamed crazy things last night. My daughter-in-law was pregnant. Yikes. Some kid was in my house taking pictures. H says he heard me yelling at him to get out.
- I told Dad’s caregiver that I was still receiving calls from pollsters and other political types. I thought it would end after the election, but I still get a couple of calls a week. She said she heard Dad talking to one the other day, but the call ended quickly when he told them he was almost 96. Guess they weren’t interested in the old codger demographic. He didn’t even get to tell them that he likes how Sarah Palin can kill a moose, gut it, cut it up, prepare it for dinner and freeze the rest. Dad has a thing for resourceful women. I guess putting a moose on the dinner table checks that box. Meanwhile, I buy my meat under plastic wrap at the market. Not nearly as impressive.
- I’ve lost my taste for a few things since my hospital episodes. I can’t stand to smell chicken cooking. This happened to me when I was pregnant, but I actually threw up back then. Now I only feel like I could. I still love every vegetable and fruit except okra. I know. I know. I just haven’t had it cooked the right way yet. I still love Campbell’s chicken noodle soup. Tell me, who doesn’t? It’s all salt and limp noodles. Who can pass on that? I still like barbecue, but I don’t think I can stomach pork roast. It’s weird. Beef is still good.
We enjoyed some milder weather this week. H made a few forays out to the yard. He whacked off the liripoe (monkey grass) and pulled a few weeds that sprouted in the flower beds. And then there was this.