It's been quite a while sinse I've up-dated.
Della, one of my sweet chemo nurses, wrote me an e-mail telling me that she's enjoying reading my blog, so I think that's a hint that I need to get it going again.
The terrible neuropathy in my hands makes it painful to type, so I've not been keeping this thing going much lately.
Sad news first: Juanita Price, the lovely lady who was the nurse who delivered me when I was born, died last week. She had taught me in YMWB when I was around 10-12, been a good friend to my parents, given me many tips on my music, and taught me again at UT Hospital as a nuring instructor. She was on the surgical team that performed the first open-heart surgery in Knoxville. She was a very devout Christian lady of the highest order, and I loved her deeply. She had played the piano and organ for Hinton Street Mission for many years, and I was guilty of staring at her during the musical services because I thought her to be the most beautiful, tallented, lovely woman to ever grace the earth. She will be sadly missed. When I called Mary (my oldest living sister) to tell her about the obituary, as soon as she heard my voice, she said, "I saw it." She knew how much Juanita meant to everyone.
Betty Pike has been keeping me updated about her mother, Ruth, and her medical conditions. She's failing badly, and Betty is almost overwhelmed with her care. For someone as competent as Betty to be overwhelmed is baffleing to me. She is so capable and competent in everything she has ever undertaken that I can't imagine her not being able to handle any situation.
But, Ruth has lost her hearing, and has many other medical problems (mostly related to being 92 years old), and Betty is in her 70's, I believe, so I guess it's time for them both to slow down.
Our good neighbor, Muriel Daniel, is very low, and they feel that she could go at any time. She has been a behind-the-scenes leader and charity co-ordinator in Rutledge for many years. While Creed, her husband, has been rather flamboyant and public, Muriel has preferred to quitely go about making things better for everyone she can. I've known her sinse my teen years, but I didn't know of her roles of helping so many until I lived across Rutledge Pike from her for several years. No one will probably know of all the good she has done, but she will be sadly missed when she goes. Her daughter-in-law, Darly Daniel, does Steve's hair, and he says that she's the best he's ever had. I guess he's not counting Dorothy Reynolds, who did both our heads for many years until her retirement a few years ago.
Speaking of Darla....Barbara and I often drop off articles at her salon that we want each other to have. Well, Barbara had bought a rather droopy, pretty ordinary fuschia hat at the Dollar Store, and wanted me to decorate it for her. She left it at the beauty salon where Darla works, and I picked it up and decorated it for her to match a suit she had bought. When I took it to her at her home, both she and Elizabeth (her mother) went wild for it. It did look rather nice, I must admit. I coated it with one of my secret coatings to make it stiff, and put some irridescent fuschia roses on it, and decorater it so that she could make either end the front or back, according to the occasion. She loved it, and showed it to the doctor and home nurse when they came, and they loved it, also.
Elizabeth is getting more and more feeble, but she's 98 years old. Her mind is still very quick, though, and she always enjoys my visits. When Barbara and I talk on the phone, she'll say, "Oh, is she coming?" It's good to feel that I can lighten the day of someone I so love and admire. She taught school until she was 92, and has some wonderful stories to tell. She prays for me every night, as she does for many others. Barbara tells me that she has a rather long devotional time every night, and prays for more and more people every night. Barbara has to wait longer and longer to go into Elizabeth's room to tell her good night. I'd say that Eliazbeth's time in prayer is time well-spent.
My dear old friend, Faune Gerber, from the Nashville area, has a sick grandbaby in Florida, and is frantic over it. She sent many requests over the internet asking for prayers.
It must be awful for her to be so far away when there's sickness.
Janie has been in Gatlingberg this week, and I have had so much residual pain from my chemo that we haven't worked much at Creekside. It's supposed to snow tonight, so Steve and I will likely work there some this evening, to keep a fire going in the wood stove, to prevent pipes freezing.
I've worked some at home, but haven't felt like doing much.
Janie's daughter, Tina, and Shawn, Cherokee's son, have broken up. Shawn wanted to go drinking with the boys, and Tina would not allow it, especially on his limited license from a drunk-driving accident in which a man was killed. Tina has now moved to some place in Morristown, and wants to persue more medical education, which will assure her of good employement.
Our water has been brown, from some underground stream that feeds it. Steve days that he can't get the 'mud' out of the water. I wonder about the benefits of batheing anymore. It darkens our white laundry, and frustrates me to death.
The Womack's dogs have killed two more of our cats. I'm so mad at those careless and irresponsible people who won't contain their animals.
Steve saw the back porch torn up one morning, and I suggested that he might find the cause if he looked on our video surveilance system, so we looked. Two black dogs had come onto the porch, and they attacked the wood boxes where the cats sleep (they're heated). It was a viscous attack that lasted for some time, and I had a horror that the dogs would pull their heads out with a cat in their mouths. I truely don't know how the cats in those boxes held off the dogs, but it was not recorded that the dogs got those cats, though two were missing. It was some cats that Tina had given us, and they were not aware of just how determined our neighor's dogs could be.
One night recently, I saw a possum on the back porch, stealing cat food. I grabbed my cane and a handy umbrella and went after it. I pinned it under my old tanning bed, and started beating it. I would stab it with the unbrella, then hit it over the head with my cane. It was a huge uproar, and Steve came back into the house, leaving it to me to mount the defense. This has happened before. I won't shoot a gun towards the house, because a bullit might go through a soft part and make a hole in the side of the house. That's happened before, too. It sometimes gets a little exciting around here after dark.
Jaime Combs will probably read this and laugh, as will her very close friend, Barbara Womack.
Joy La Tulip, Janie's sister, is planning to move to Tennessee, and she's planning to rent our mobile home. Janie and I want to do it all up nicely for Joy. She's disabled from many medical problems, and doesn't have much money to allow for rent, and she can't seem to get an apartment here in Rutledge that she can afford, so the trailer works out nicely for her. She's a good housekeeper, and will take care of the place, so she will be of great benefit to me. She has a wonderful personality, just like Janie, and we always have good times when she's here.
It's time for Steve to go to see Darla, so I'm off here. More later.
