Posted tagged ‘gross jobs’

“A Christmas candle is a lovely thing; It makes no noise at all, But softly gives itself away.”

December 2, 2014

My house smells of rosemary. I just came from Agway. I needed dog biscuits, and I ended up also buying two wreaths for outside, a rosemary plant for here, two small poinsettias, and I scooped some greens off the cutting area for my outside bowl. It is definitely beginning to look like Christmas. I went outside last night and admired my lights. They are lovely. I’ll take pictures, but I am so bad at posting. A bunch are sitting in my camera.

After 60˚ yesterday, we have a raw, cold day today. I was out before ten as I had PT then I  had a list of places to go and things to get. I made it to all six places, and it took me two trips to bring everything into the house. Most are for decorating though I did buy myself a new pair of shoes. My physical therapist kept telling me I needed new shoes as even the treads were gone on my old ones. At the shoe store the clerk told me I had certainly gotten my money’s worth from the old ones. The new ones feel great.

Cats tend to throw up. Sometimes it is just hairballs, gross I know but not gag worthy. Fern will sometimes eat too much too fast and then get sick. This is the story of one cat and her throw up. I got up during the night to go to the bathroom and in the darkness I stepped in cat vomit and was totally grossed out. I tried to walk without using the affected foot, but ended up with a weird limp.I cleaned both me and the floor then went back to bed. This morning I went to put my slippers on and saw that Fern had left her mark on one of them. I cleaned the slipper but didn’t choose to wear it.

I have one small errand to do later, but I’m going to read a bit and have lunch. My book is a Clive Cussler. I find his fun to read. I don’t have to think a lot about the plot or the characters. They are perfect for when I put my feet up, brew a new pot of coffee and just relax.

“On Sunday mornings, as the dawn burned into day, swarms of gulls descended on the uncollected trash, hovering and dropping in the cold clear light.”

April 22, 2014

The morning was sunny but has since begun to get cloudy. Gracie was on the deck earlier when I heard her critter alert bark. I went out and she was trying to get at something hiding behind the deck box. I looked and nothing was there. The mighty watch dog had missed the critter leaving from the other end.

Yesterday was a wonderfully quiet day. I went back and forth between watching baseball and the marathon then read all afternoon. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, but I didn’t get dressed, and I didn’t make my bed. Today, however, my dance card has a few entries, mostly errands, but I’m also having lunch with a friend, Thai food, one of my favorites. I’m even going to change my bed. I feel like a whirlwind of activity.

When I was a kid, I never had set chores. My brother had to empty the basket into the barrel, and he always complained about being put upon. Sometimes, though, I had to empty the inside garbage outside. My mother had a plastic triangular garbage holder with holes in the bottom. Its shape fit perfectly in the corner of the sink. When it was full, one of us took it outside to the garbage pail. The pail was in the ground and you used a pedal to open the lid. I remember all the maggots crawling on the garbage, but I was too young to be horrified by maggots. I was mostly fascinated. The garbage man came once a week and would haul out the pail and empty it into the big barrel he carried. I thought that was the grossest of all jobs until I met the night soil man in Ghana who emptied the outhouse pails. Now that was and still is to me the grossest job of all.

Almost none of the workers who came to the house had names. They were always men and each was defined by his job. We had the garbage man, the trash man, the mailman, the milk man, the newspaper man, the junkman and the scissors-knife sharpener man who rode his bicycle on the street and rang a bell to announce his arrival. The only name we knew was Johnny, the ice cream man. We never thought it strange that we didn’t know the names of the men who came so often to our house.

Now I know the names of the people who come to my house. There are far fewer than when I was a kid. Bob is my mailman, Lori is my newspaper deliverer and Sebastian is my landscaper. The milk now comes from the store and my knives and scissors need sharpening. I am the trash and garbage man who goes once a week to the dump. I haven’t seen a maggot in years.