Tuesday, July 22, 2008, 22:01
Snow in July
Do you know how much of a mess a newspaper reporter's notebook makes when a black kitten knocks the notebook into the clothes washing machine?
When the washing machine is running?
And it's the notebook with notes from the speaker from Armenia who was at church on Sunday?
And when the newspaper reporter doesn't realize the notebook has been knocked into the washing machine for approximately 30 seconds?
I had just started washing a load of Randy's dress pants Monday morning when my little black kitten Dora jumped up on the counter next to the washing machine. Actually, the load also included two pairs of my pants.
The kersploosh did not immediately register. Not until a few seconds later when I realized I could not see my notebook with Sunday's notes in it. I knew Dora had knocked something into the washing machine but I didn't know what it was.
As soon as I realized it was my notebook, I made it over to the washing machine in one leap. . .but it was too late.
I had *no idea* that a notebook would disintegrate that quickly.
The washing machine was now full of thousands of bits of white paper.
I was not looking forward to the job, but I decided the only way to get some of the paper out of the machine and off the clothes was to bail the water out.
So, I bailed out pails of water and carried them outside to dump on my flowers.
The blue flag irises, my wild rose, the morning glories and some of the daylilies are now adorned with bits of white paper.
When I finally got the washing machine bailed out, I took the slacks outside and shook them out.
The ground for about five feet around me looked as if it had been snowing. Big, white, fluffy flakes.
Then it was a matter of rinsing the pants, hauling out the rinse water, shaking the pants out again and then drying them in the dryer to try get the last bits of paper out of them.
It's a good thing I was planning to attend to the Foods Resource Bank meeting Monday evening. At least I knew I had a chance to get more information for my story. . .
Barn kittens
The barn kittens are getting sick again. I got more Amoxicillan for them. So far, after a couple of days, it doesn't seem to be having much effect on the ailment they've got. The old mother cat has got a bad eye now, too. I've got to put the medicine in canned kitty food for her. Perhaps I need to consider getting a different antibiotic from the vet clinic. The kittens all have watery eyes, some of them are sneezing, and their appetites are not very good. Poor little babies. It was bad enough that Simon Peter got so sick and died. And the now the rest of them are sick again. I was hoping the first round of Amoxicillan had knocked it out of them, but I guess not. Whatever "it" is.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Monday, July 21, 2008, 06:19
In the Dark
Saturday afternoon, the sky started to look bad, and the weather warnings said severe storms with high winds and hail were headed our way. So, I did what any logical person who does not like storms would do. I started to play the piano. (I'm just glad I don't know how to play "Nearer My God To Thee." That would seem way too much like *Titanic.*)
Part of the way through my recital, at 5:30 p.m., the electricity went off. It was still raining and thundering and lightning some, but the worst of it was past. Shortly after that, Randy left for a tractor pull.
By 6 p.m., when I closed up the piano, it was still raining a little. But that was it. The electricity was still off, though.
When Randy came back home at 6:30 p.m. because the tractor pull had been canceled, the electricity was not yet back on.
"I suppose we'll have to eat a cold supper," Randy said. "And I also suppose as soon as we do, the electricity will come back."
We fed the horses, and luckily, neither of them were out of water because we did not have any electricity to pump more water for them.
We ate a supper of sandwiches and peas-in-the-pod from the garden. But still no electricity.
By 10 p.m., when the truck from the local cooperative pulled into the driveway, I knew it must have been widespread storm damage. The lineman said they were checking lines for trees down. I told him it had not been very windy here, that it had just rained hard, and there weren't any branches down over the line in our yard. He shined his spotlight around anyway, just to check. And then he left.
By that time, we had lit the kerosene lamp and candles and had found the windup flashlights so we could read for a while. Then we went to bed.
It was some time later that I was awakened out of a fitful doze by a thumping sound.
After a few seconds, I realized the thumping sound was the half-full coffee pot, trying to perk. We had neglected to unplug the coffee pot when the electricity went out. The lamp in the living room was on, too, and so was the light in the dining room. I unplugged the coffee pot and turned out the lights. But I never really did fall back sound asleep. It was 11:30 p.m. We had been out of electricity for six hours.
Sunday I could tell that I had not slept very well because I was really dragging. It's the first time we've been out of electricity for a significant amount of time in a couple of years.
Armenia
Sunday a woman from Armenia spoke at our church. Armenia is one of the countries that is benefitting from the Foods Resource Bank project. She told us that FRB had been responsible for providing cows to people in her country (it's a breed with which I am not familiar, but they are like milking shorthorns). The milk provides a much-needed source of protein, especially for the young and old. And they are able to make cheese and yogurt and butter, too. The children, she said, are so excited about the cows that each one gets a name. One of them was even named — Tiger!
FRB also was responsible for helping to provide beehives that are set up at institutions like orphanages and boarding schools. The children have never tasted honey before, so they are especially appreciative of the beehives. She said that the switch from the Soviet economy to free enterprise has been very difficult for the people in her country.
The woman will be speaking at an FRB meeting Monday evening. I am looking forward to learning more. I will, of course, be writing an article for the newspaper.
Randy said when he had talked to her, she had told him that they only had electricity for one hour per day in Armenia and that her neighbors were especially grateful when her husband got a job with the UN because then he was able to purchase extra diesel fuel. They use the diesel for their lamps to provide light in their homes. Knowing what diesel fuel smells like when it's being burned by an engine, I cannot imagine using it in a kerosene lamp. The smell must be just awful. But, I suppose if that's all you have to burn to provide a little light, it's what you will use. And here I thought a brake job that cost almost $600 was bad. At least we have lights and don't have to burn diesel fuel.
LeAnn R. Ralph