Not A Good Day

Some days I would like to forget. Yesterday was one of those days. To begin, it was windy. West Texas windy. I'm not talking the gentle breeze that most people across our great land call wind. I'm talking wall creaking, window rattling, you-can't-stand-still-in-it, 40+ mph and gusting kind of wind. The wind makes me crotchety!

Early in the day Rick headed to Dumas to help his parents with a remodel project. Even before he got started, he received a call putting him on "stand-by" for deployment, and by lunch time he received another call instructing him to hit the road with an uncertain northwestward destination.

I spent the morning getting Rick's laundry done up and removing my "essentials" from the fifth wheel. (I am staying behind because Gabriella is due in just a couple of weeks.) I put air in my flat tire, then I rushed to town for a few grocery items to stock the camper's pantry and skipped lunch to get everything ready for his departure. I hate the routine. Little to no advanced notice, running on adrenalin, working like crazy, then waving good-bye. Afterwards I usually have to cry for a little while before I can continue on.

Rick left shortly before sundown intending to make it to Northern California by Sunday evening. He is to be in orientation somewhere in California Monday morning and will be working in Oregon after that. (He needs your prayers.)

The day before yesterday we did a little furniture shifting which left the guest room (now my room) in our home without a bed. So with the wind slowing a little and the sun already below the horizon, Rebecca and I started getting my mattress and boxed springs out of the storage trailer and hauling them into the house.

Now picture a 90 pound weakling and an old fat lady carrying a queen sized mattress in the dark and in the wind, and you might laugh too hard to finish reading this post, but stick with me here, it's not funny.

Between the grunting, tugging, lifting, and dropping, we didn't notice that my granddaughter's beloved puppy darted out the door while we were trying to get the bed in the house. Zoey, a black Malti-poo quicker than the speed of light and darker than the night, escaped out the opened door and the opened gate. No one in the house knew she was out. Within only a matter of minutes my son-in-law pulled into our long dark drive, and Zoey, invisible in the night, dashed under his van. We are all very sad. Natalie loved her very much. (I cried again.)

I was about too tired to wiggle and emotionally spent, but I took the body to town for proper disposal, picked up an Arby's sandwich, and came home to put sheets on the bed so I could collapse. When I started to make the bed, my mother's ring caught on the mattress and snagged it something awful. That's when I noticed that sometime during the day the mounting had been damaged and now the diamond, Patricia's stone, was lost. (I cried again.)

Sleep didn't come easy, but I was glad to see the day end. I hope today is better, but the wind is blowing again. I'm tempted to just stay in bed with the covers over my head.