This isn't an article. Just a chat over coffee with friends. Do you take it black or white...or is that considered a racially insensitive question too!?!
Like Q, please don't mistake my recent silence for inaction. I've been a busy little bee, full of stings, making honey day and night...how did Bette Davis get into this!?!
So much has happened!
Where to start?
I suppose our story begins last Wednesday when I glanced up from making Michael's cinnamon toast (light on the sugar, heavy on the cinnamon, please) and thought, "Hmmm, that's odd. These kitchen windows must be dirtier than I realized."
My second glance revealed the truth. Our yard was full of smoke. I tossed the toast at Michael, threw a blouse over my nightgown and sprinted for the car to reconnoiter.
Half a block NW of our cottage, fire had burned through the field behind the trailer park, consumed a shed and was licking hungrily at the grass and trees surrounding the homes.
I turned the horses for home only to realize the fire was already eating its way through the alfalfa field one lot SW from our home, where I walk the dogs!
Talk about an adrenalin rush...and I hate adrenalin. (No adrenochrome for me, thank you very much!)
I ran back home to find my neighbor hollering, "Be ready to leave!" and Michael entrenched in his recliner on oxygen growling, "I ain't goin' anywhere." A true Norwegian.
Just then the fire department arrived from the next town. Thank God! Nevertheless I dragged the garden hose out of the shed, connected it to the leaky spigot (pathetic, I know, but a home equals freedom and I was gonna fight for mine!) and hoped for the best while a gale fanned the flames like a scene out of I Know Where I'm Going.
The fire department did a wonderful job and stayed til 8 pm. By nightfall, all was quiet on the Western front though our hamlet had a very funny odor. Being night owls anyways, Michael and I sat up half the night, sniffing for smoke.
Here are some photos my neighbor snapped.
Three days ago, Michael yelled to me to "look at something outside." Sho'nuff, the sky was full of smoke. Oh frickety frack, not this again!
Dubbed the Oxcart Fire, it's now burned 13,000 acres fueled by gale force winds. We aren't in any danger, thank God, but the nearby town of Mentor was threatened and the sunsets have been amazing from the smoke.
As if prairie fires weren't exciting enough, in addition to finding your kind donation checks (thank you!!!!) in my PO box when I finally made it to town last Friday, there was also a package. A package so big, it wouldn't fit in my little PO box.
Luckily, the post mistress is a friend and when she heard Mrs. All Thumbs here fumbling and dropping and struggling to open the Parcel PO Box by repeatedly plunging the wrong key in the wrong lock, she took pity on me and helped.
The package contained my very favorite thing (after French stinky cheese): books!!!!!!!! Four big beautiful brand new hard cover books and all of them written by Donald J. Trump sent by a patriot/subscriber/friend.
So now you know what I've been doing instead of writing! Reading and eating, and cleaning and reading and cooking and reading and...well, you catch my drift. I did start two articles...but neither of them were good enough to unleash on an unsuspecting public.
It's such a pleasure to own a book. You can highlight and write long margin notes and fold over the corners of the pages without having your friendly local librarian chew you out for it. (True story! Remember, Karen? You're a great patriot and I've reformed my page-bending ways.)
It's early days and I'm not ready to talk about the books yet except to say that the Trump of MAGA Rallies is the same Trump of his books. He's an honest man who's widely read, a great learner and historian with a fascinating brain. Four years too late, I'm finally getting to know him through his books. And to know him, is to love and respect him even more. (Come back! Please come back!)
What people don't realize is...he's also hysterically funny!!! I've spent more time laughing at what Trump writes. Even Michael was chortling...and Michael doesn't laugh easily.
And in conclusion...
Anthony Bourdain (who did not kill himself!) always said, "What have we learned today, Boys and Girls?" as his signal to his crew that he'd had it for the day and was about to rip off his microphone. Mine is "and in conclusion...."
In conclusion, I just wanted to say "thank you." You're not just readers. You've become friends. That's what life is all about: people, precious people. When you get down to brass tacks, it's our love of America that gives us all our strongest, most basic and profound bond and strength. We're all sisters and brothers.
If you've ever been in a position where you agonized over the cost of a jar of strawberry jam or put back the loaf of bread because, "I can make it cheaper myself" then you know my gratitude for your donations that enable me to shop for groceries like a normal person. It was only a few years ago when we were given roadkill venison for protein and were grateful for it. If we had a yen to eat restaurant food, yours truly looked up copycat recipes and made it from scratch! (Actually, I still do. LOL)
Your kindness has realized some of Michael's long-held dreams, gotten us a dinged-up-but-it-works-fine air fryer/oven and paid Delly the Bichon's vet bill. She says to tell you, "Tank you vewwy much. I'm feewing much bettew." (She has 15-foot-back-2-inch-leg problems.)
Personally, I'm crazy about my new Inse Cordless Stick Vaccuum. It's so quiet, I can clean while Michael sleeps. (Apologies to the eBay seller I undercut by $10. Squeezing the nickle til the buffalo shrieks is a habit. Call it good stewardship.)
You've made it possible for me to make ends meet from home, so I can be here for Michael on those particularly bad days (too many!) when he can't stand long enough to make a cup of coffee and needs multiple rub downs with Watkins Warming Balm. (That's a euphemism. It's blasted hot! Michael goes through a tube every week. Hoping to get a wheelchair soon.)
Well, that's about it. Thanks for reading this loooooooooooooong letter. I hope y'all have a great weekend. If you want me, I'll be over there in that corner, reading a Trump book.
P. S. Some of you wanted to see the video of Michael from 2015. Here ya be! They got some of the details wrong but I can't believe how much better Michael was walking back then. Nothing a new Adamantium spine wouldn't fix.
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