Locked and Loaded (Mostly Loaded)

I am aching all over today, the result of overdoing things Sunday, but it’s a happy kind of ache. OK, maybe rewarding is more like it. Considering I could have chosen to take the day off and just vedged in front of the television, reveling in the mass protests throughout NFL Land, I am in good shape for the shape I’m in.

I stumbled out the back door in pitch darkness Sunday morning to clean filters, before I got it together enough to flip on my headlamp. 45 minutes later [Editor: Can we make that 44 minutes? 46 minutes? Anything?] I came back into the house, almost forgetting of course to turn off my headlamp. I really do need to pursue the idea of picking up a little stock in Duracell…

My big plan for the day was an epic voyage off the mountain all the way to Laytonville. OK, so not so epic, but necessary nonetheless, to both give and take: I was making a recycling/trash run, and we were going grocery shopping.

My truck currently-and permanently-lodged at the wrecker’s, I am dependent on the generosity of my sons, as far as borrowing a truck. I put it to them like this: Either lend me a truck, or come and haul away my garbage. Just like magic.

Later, while waiting for SmallBoy to complete an identical mission, except that he had a stuffed trailer attached, I filled in the time by donning my best Mendo-Maids attitude, and running a mop around the house.

Afterwards, I also applied the mop to the floors, and the net result was a general spiffing-up of our domicile, a responsibility I take most seriously. Gluten-Free Mama has a lot on her plate these days, without having to worry about tripping over dust bunnies.

I had also begun doing laundry, an operation the requires about twelve steps before clothes can actually be laundered. We needed bath towels washed and I am just the guy for the job. I also did a couple of loads for GF Mama, just to show her that my heart is on the right side. She protested she was feeling strong enough to do a load of laundry.

I suggested that if she had enough energy to do laundry, then maybe she should go for a little walk with me, and let me do the laundry when we got back. We did so, and saw a small flock of turkeys in the field. We don't see them as much as we once used to.

In between mopping floors and doing laundry, I was also gathering all of the recycling and trash out in front, conveniently located for speedy load-up and departure. Mind you, I would have been perfectly happy if SmallBoy never brought the truck, and I never had to drive to the ‘Ville, but hey, such is the good life.

I separated the glass meticulously, having learned that skill back in kindergarten, and got all the paper and free-flow recycling all bagged up. As I had said to SmallBoy earlier, “The trash is the only thing that really has to go; the recycling not so much. I had two contractor bags of trash and five bags of recycling. I also had three tuppies of glass.

I was ready for action, ready for danger-ready for a trip to town.

I was just hanging up the fourth and final load of laundry on the clothesline out front, when SmallBoy rolled in with the truck, HeadSodBuster’s black ‘Yoda. I love this truck because it makes me feel like a real hill person. You know?

Locked and loaded, metaphorically speaking if not literally, GF Mama and I were off on our great adventure. Luckily there was no road construction so I did not have to commit hari-kari on the spot, and lived to tell about it another day.

The sign out in front of the dump said, “No trash!” I looked at GF Mama and said, “No problem. We have two bags full.”

Oh, bummer. We still have those two bags of garbage, because the dump was all filled up, but at least we got rid of the eight bags/tuppies of recycling, so we came out on top. Imagine my surprise though to be told that I could just dump my glass in the giant free-flow dumpster. "You mean you don't need it separated?" My world shifted just a tiny bit.

Having trash did mean, however, that GF Mama ended up doing raven duty while I went into Geiger’s and bought some grub. Otherwise the birds do their best Alfred Hitchcock impression, and make our lives a nightmare cleaning up the mess. It's part of the country experience provided free of charge. 

You can say what you want about our local grocery store; I am quite enamored. I am also pleased as punch to spend my dollars locally when I can get organic produce. Great success.

Arriving home, imagine my surprise to see HeadSodBuster up on the roof with Jesse, longtime friend, here on a visit. The way it was explained to me is that Jesse has to take it easy because of some hurt ribs. Therefore, he had spent time earlier in the day chainsawing wood, and was now up on my roof, helping to install new metal roofing. 

Where was I? Down on the ground, watching, as I unloaded an put away the groceries. I have much appreciation for roofing. I can still get up on a roof, but it scares GF Mama so badly that I have agreed to cease and desist. Huh, I wonder why it scares her to see me on a roof.

Before we strolled up to a scrumptious farm meal prepared by BossLady herself, I paused fifteen minutes to watch the opening of the football game between the Oakland Raiders and the Washington Redskins, a game the Raiders lost, 27-10. 

The camera panned over players from both teams protesting in various ways, the despicable comments made by 45. It seemed as though the entire Raiders team was involved in the protest. Quarterback Derek Carr chose to remain standing, while praying. He said afterwards that he loves all of his fellow players, and that it did not matter to the team whether he stood or sat.

I don’t know too much about that. I made my own statement on social media, which I manage to refrain from doing most of the time. I posted, “This veteran will take a knee with Colin any day of the week and twice on Sundays.”

I was gratified to see that much of the NFL agrees with Colin-and me.