Old Horse

15 Feb

Do They Still Make Glue Out Of Old Horses

According to Ed, my old neighbor in Saskatchewan, if I get another tooth pulled out I’ll be a toothless, old, horse ready for the glue factory. Why did I mention to Ed about having my tooth pulled out? Should I have known Ed would use the event to rib me?

I did not want to talk about the needles, the drilling, the wrenching and the pulling on a tooth that fought eviction to its death. A tooth extraction should be forgotten immediately as something too traumatic to dwell on.  I told Ed that I did feel like an old horse with no usable teeth when returning from the dentist with my face and lips frozen and a wad of cotton packed in the hole left from the extracted tooth. I was ready for the pasture to lie down in it for sleep; rather than for a trip to the glue factory. I asked Ed if they still make glue from horses and he said, “Maybe?”


26 Jan

Little Words Say What You Mean; Big Words Are Too Often Gobbledygook

Ed, my old neighbor from Saskatchewan, has a great dislike for the game of ‘Scrabble.’ “It is a game that gives too few points to ordinary words, and gives too many points for obscure, long-lettered, words,” Ed insists.

A holiday game of Scrabble still has my old neighbor grumbling. Ed wrote down two of the words a relative used in the game. He asked me if I knew what the two words meant. I had no quick definitions of pediculosis and microscopical from his game.


26 Jan

Fanny Crosby

Folks Have Remarkable Memories For The Things That Interest Them

When Ed called yesterday, I wanted to tell him about the power of a good memory. “I used to have a good memory,” I told Ed. I also said that my remembering has dulled over time. I warned Ed, that as a senior citizen memories have a way of shrinking. Ed, offered that he understood that a bad memory was the key to happiness.

I shared with Ed, about Fanny Crosby and her power to remember. At six weeks old in 1820, she caught a cold and inflammation of her eyes. This condition resulted in her permanent blindness. Fanny was brought up earnestly by her mother and grandmother in the Christian faith, as her father had died when she was six months old. At the age of ten, Fanny memorized five chapters of the Bible each week. By age 15, she had memorized the four gospels, the first five books of the Bible, the Book of Proverbs, the Song of Solomon, and many Psalms.

Getting Better

14 Jan

Fixate On Your Cell Phone, Remote Control, and Daily Pills

“Here I go again, another time of retiring,” I told Ed. I told him this because once you retire, you do not necessarily stay retired. For the last two years, I was filling in at a church during their pastoral vacancy. It ended last week with the installation of their new pastor. Ed, my old neighbor from Saskatchewan, sees retirement as a time when the living is secure and comfortable for others. My old neighbor could retire himself, but he would rather be chained to his Quonset and face a firing squad.

To say that Ed has a negative view of retirement would be right on the money. Retirement for Ed is a slow death where you fixate on your cell phone calling others to tell them what you miss from the good old days. No one cares if you miss coal furnaces, outhouses, water from the handpump at the well, or coonskin hats. For Ed, the worst thing about retirement is that nobody even your longsuffering wife cares if you control the remote control anymore. According to Ed, the most laborious thinking a person does in retirement is keeping their pills straight and taken every day not three times a week.

The Double Test

3 Jan

Surprised By A Mean Dance Partner For New Year’s Eve

I explained, to Ed my old neighbor, in Saskatchewan, that as the past year slipped away and the new year arrived, I was in an unexpected wrestling match with red, itchy, patches of rash, invading one side of my body.

Roughly sixty years ago I caught the disease, chicken pox in public school. It was an uncomfortable disease that introduced me to calamine lotion to help with the itching. The childhood disease of chicken pox has a permanent side to it.

Spoiled Grandparents

3 Jan

Not Just Spoiled Brats, But Spoiled Grandparents As Well!

“This Christmas taught me that the wife and I are spoiled grandparents,” I told Ed. My old neighbor thought I was bragging about our grandchildren showering us with a lot of gifts or affection. I set him straight that I was talking about how spoiled we are in our lifestyle as a couple. We found sharing our condo with our family this Christmas put a monkey wrench in our well-established routines and ruts. Company upsets life as you usually live it.

We are a king and a queen in our home, rising and going to bed as we desire. We share up chores by our preferences and pursue our hobbies and responsibilities with an unspoken agreement. We co-exist together with little drama or noise. When our nineteen-year-old granddaughter visited last fall, she was appalled by the lack of music and sound at our house. When she is not on her phone or her computer, she must have music to live by, because silence is unnatural to her.