Sunday, January 27, 2008

Sick as a blue dog

I'm a terrible patient. I have a cold and I want to be taken care of AND left alone at the same time. Why can't these people accomodate me? Oh no, they have their own needs like "entertainment" and "companionship" and "dinner." People can be so selfish, I tell ya!

I hope this is just a cold and not THE cold that has been going around, knocking out entire families for a week or more. It's not pretty, whatever it is. It could be bubonic plague. Call it what you want, but if it's happening to me, it must surely be deadly. Maybe I won't be it's direct victim but you can bet that if it gets any worse, somebody in my vicinity will perish before it is all over and done with.

Years ago when my "Uncle Curly" was alive and living in the boonies in Missouri (pronounced "Misery" when this native Ohioan spoke it), he would write us eloquent and amusing letters about his weekly trials and tribulations. I wonder if my mother saved these letters. He would be an excellent blogger if he were alive and interested in the media. I come from a family of authors of one kind or another - mostly to shy to become published.

I remember a paticular letter Uncle Curly wrote about being "sick as a blue dog." Nothing was going right for him that week as he had the sniffles but continued to do his chores around the yard. We had only visited him once, when I was about 12 years old, but I had memorized every detail of his property and could visualize the episode as it unfolded on the lined stationery before me. He had gone to fill in a hole left by some rodent under one of his fruit trees, despite the pressure in his sinuses. Sick as a blue dog, he plugged the hole and stood too quickly, bonking the top of his gray curly mop on a low-hanging branch. He is undboutedly where I get my height from as all my other relatives would've easily cleared the appendage by several inches. Upon returning to the house and sitting down, Aunt Marie noticed the goose-egg growing atop his noggin and began her natural inclination to fuss. She applied a make-shift icepack and tied it to his head with one of her lovely scarves. I can imagine him sitting in his small library, perusing his latest edition of "Saturday Evening Post" with this ridiculous getup attached to his head. Aunt Marie walked by and glanced in remarking to him "You old fool, you like like you've got a durn toothache with that silly thing on yer noggin!" So, he removed his teeth, looked at them, told her they seemed to be fine, and continued reading.

Ah, letters from aunts and uncles . . . How I loved them as I was growing up. I'm staying away from fruit trees for a couple of days just to be safe. I miss the old days, BC,(before Connie) where I could spend a sick day with my feet up watching old movies or reading books, nursing myself back to healtgh in my own special way (that which I call laziness). If I could just get all these PEOPLE out of my house for a while, I think I could get well. Alas, too much to do and too many fans wanting my company so tomorrow I shall venture out once more, spreading my germs to the masses. Mommy always taught me to share!


Mandy said...

I love it! Good thing we rent and have no fruit trees!

Beth is wfg said...

That's a great story! Poor Uncle Curly though. I hope you're feeling better soon!

Wonder Woman said...

Feel better soon!