...and her wrist. Yeah, that headline will get your attention, huh? When you're 96 you don't bounce as well as you did when you were...say... 82. She was walking the few yards from her apartment to the mailboxes and down she went. My mother happened by and when she pulled in the dooryard she found Grammie on the ground and a crowd around. The ambulance came and took her to the nearest hospital about a half hour north. They discovered the broken facial bones there and sent her to a bigger hospital two and a half hours south. They put a splint on her wrist, loaded her up with Darvocet and sent her home the next day. I think that fact is actually scarier than the fall itself. Cut a Grammie some love, Big Hospital People! She broke. her. face. If that doesn't warrant a couple days of bed rest and some green Jell-O I don't know what does! I talked to her this morning and other than being hopped up on the drugs she sounded OK. She's a tough ol' bird! They grow 'em wicked rugged up in Nawthen Maine, Deah!
[My personal theory is that she did it on purpose to hog all the family sympathy and attention from my huge-hideous-cast-sportin' foot. She's ruthless and will stop at nothing! I can't get the attention back now...SHE. BROKE. HER. FACE, People! You win, Grammie! It's so frustrating to be so far away and not be able to help as well as make fun of her predicament in person. Don't judge...it is the way of my people.]
We had an invisible fence installed for the dogs this morning. We did a little training in the house on the lowest setting, which is akin to a little vibrating tickle, and it was very very amusing. Holli would get the signal when she got too close to the cat food dish and cock her head and look puzzled, but she had no idea why it was happening. Ben got the signal 2-3 times and won't go near the entire kitchen now. And when Holly bumbles in he gets agitated like,"Don't-do-it-you're-gonna-get-the-bad-noise-and-the-tickles-and-there-is-NO-FRICKIN'-WAY-I'm-going-in-there-to-save-you!" And to think that he was the one I was worried about it not working on because he's such a spaz.
If none of this makes sense, don't blame me, blame the Sandman. He hasn't been around for over a week now and to say that I'm getting a little punchy would be an understatement. I've been getting 2-3 hours a night; enough to keep me alive but render me pretty much useless otherwise. Tonight I'm pulling out the big guns...Benadryl. That'll do the trick but I can't take it on a work night because it works so well and makes me sleepy the whole next day.
Tomorrow, if I wake up, I'd like to go to Rainbow Fleece Farm in New Glarus. They are having their sheep shearing days. This, of course, is based on Mr. Bee's kindness-of-heart since SOME people, who shall remain nameless, can't drive a manual shift car with their new concrete slipper on. I'm pretty sure he'll drive me. He's quite the enabler, my Mr. Bee. Then tomorrow night, friends D&T are taking us to The Melting Pot for supper! Yum! Lotsa sleep, fuzzy sheep, melted cheese and chocolate*, all in one day! Life doesn't get better than that!
*This will be the title of my autobiography someday!