Country Life

There are tons and tons of differences in living in the country and being raised in the city. All kinds of traumatic situations can occur.

Electricity is essential, but with a hard wind, thunder, lightening, rain, vibration from farm equipment traffic, the explosion of a gas truck and a Canadian National train carrying 30 plus cars full of liquid propane, and who knows what else...oh yes, let's not forget Katrina. You can lose electricity. Yep, lost electricity from Katrina although we are more than 200 miles inland. But that's another tale.

You can lose phone service. Just because the phone line runs under the bridge on the highway, a half-mile up, the vibration makes it screwy, and you lose phone service.

There are snakes, friendly snakes that keep bad snakes away. Critters of the night, like coyotes, ducks, geese, deer; you name it, we have the critters.

But there are other interesting events that can happen without warning.

Last October, I was cleaning the front porch, when I stepped off and onto a nail, a rusty nail. I immediately cleaned the wound with bleach and doctored it with Betadine, following up with triple antibiotic cream and bandaging. Thinking nothing more of it, other than a rigorous cleaning before going to bed, and then upon rising, it felt ok.

I knew I had to do the bi-monthly trip for groceries and had no problem throughout my endeavor.

Arriving home, I was unloading the car and walking up to the porch when I stepped on a Magnolia seed pod, which hurt and I do mean HURT, as it was in the same place as the nail wound.

By Sunday night, the foot had swollen and I knew I had to see the doctor the next day. When I did, he immediately sent me to the hospital, as I would need to see a surgeon to relieve the pressure.

Oh fun, fun, joy, joy.

Not that I don't like being pampered, but this was not my idea of fun, especially since one day following the surgery, they released me to go home to wound care.

I couldn't walk and when the PT was showing me how to use crutches (which I've never had to do), gave me a wedgie when I lost my balance, nearly falling on the floor.

That's a unique experience to say the least. My butt still cringes at the mere thought of it now.

So, after being invited to stay at a friend's home, which was close to the hospital's wound care center, she said they had let me out too soon, especially since I was still unable to walk.

When I went to wound care, the doctor immediately put me into the hospital after examining the foot. I underwent multiple tests, including an MRI.

Final diagnosis...MRSA.

I endured rounds and rounds of drip antibiotics and complete bed rest, legs elevated. For more than three months, I kept my legs up and learned how to debris the foot.

Nearly a year out, I am still convalescing...but such is life in the country!

Just Precious!

 
Let me introduce you to Precious.

Several years ago, when moving home from Arkansas, I went to the local Humane Society to find a cat. You see, living in the country, a cat is an essential element to keep the rodents under control.

However, while waiting to view the cats, I went into the dogs, which were numerous. I truly hate that folks don't understand the meaning of getting them spayed or neutered. It's truly sad seeing them in cages, although clean and kept and fed properly, it's still sad, nonetheless.

All of them looked so pitiful. Then the "sales pitch" started...yes, as with all my babies, they didn't have the easiest of beginnings...especially Precious.

I really don't remember the gender of the person who first directed me to Precious, telling me all about her.

She had apparently been rescued from a street in a bad section of town. She was just a mere puppy who suffered extreme abuse. They weren't certain if she would live considering all of the injuries she had.

Her bottom jaw was broken with several teeth missing. One of her ears had been ripped off. Her front shoulder had been broken, and couldn't be repaired, so walking, running was a grievous task. One of her legs had been twisted and her front feet stepped on, flattening them.

She had been in the kennel the longest with her time coming up for DESTRUCTION. No they didn't say that word, but they had tried to find her a home and no one would take her.

So that she wouldn't be alone, they had put another puppy in with her, black with white markings, named Tug. He too, was coming near his "TIME'S UP" sentence. No they didn't use that wording either.

I informed them that I would have to ask my husband before I could give them an answer. Upon leaving the shelter, I called him and he said, "Well, go back and get them! Don't let them put her down."

"Well, what about Tug?"

"Get him too!"

To which I immediately turned around and rescued these wonderful babies. They are two of the most intelligent and sweetest babies ever. In fact, Precious lays under my feet while I sit and write this blog. She never strays away from me and she runs and plays with Tug all the time. They are so wonderful and I am so blessed to have them both.

Oh, I almost forgot...the cat? A couple of weeks later, upon arriving home from a grocery run, there she was, Tinkerbelle. Solid black and full of life, a tiny kitten either dumped or wandered up, which I doubt, as she was so very tiny. Talking about a great mouser, WOW! Did we ever luck out, as well as did my babes, Precious, Tug-a-bug and Tinkerbelle.

The sweet fragrance of Summer

Now that was my question too. I never realized the Purple Cone flower had a fragrance, and Lord knows it took ...
F O R E V E R ... for that first bloom to come forth. To be honest, I didn't realize that it was a cone flower. At the end of the 2006 growing season, I was just willing to give the rest of my un-planted seeds a chance to show me what they could do.

Hm mm, 2006? What happened in 2007? That is such a good question.

Well, the pots had little to do but flourish, and to be honest, I paid little attention to them. And by autumn, I was in the hospital; and since that's another story, a very long and involved one, which I refuse to bore you with now; I'll continue with this perfectly wonder tale.

So I just broadcast the seeds, watering them into the soil and let them go.

I did notice the breaking forth of some small and some larger seedlings. But since I was not completely sure of the specie's form or shape, I just let them grow.

This spring, as the base plant shot up the first blooms, I became excited. What seemed like eternity, for the bloom to burst forth...a milky green, but recognizable cone shaped head.

Since I couldn't remember if it would be the purple or white variety. I was thinking it was Burpee's White Swan. A few days later...oh, to my surprise and delight, the majestic Purple Cone flower.

As it developed, I leaned down to see if I could detect a scent. Oh, my, what a rich, but delicate scent. To say the least, I was so excited! You see, I've not had much luck with this perennial in the past, but now was a complete success. So much so, I have begun to harvest the seed heads for future pots next year.

In the background, you see this blond dog aptly named, Blondie! He is such a sweetie. He is so full of mischief. When born, from Red Star, he has all of Red's markings, except he's blond. He, like most of the other babies, stay right with Ma, never straying too far, for fear he might miss something.