Posted by
William D. Dannenmaier on Saturday, June 05, 2010 11:40:57 AM
The end of April and the first three weeks of May my attention was focused on the census: I was one of Obama’s new employees. The first day of actual work was pure hell. I watched for traffic on two lane highways while trying to read mail boxes for addresses. The next day Sheila started going with me. She watched for addresses while I watched for traffic. It was a great help and amusing at times.
Most of the people I met and some of the animals provided my greatest pleasure. One large dog liked me so well she climbed into the car. It was a struggle getting her out as she was too large to lift and she held onto the seat with her paws when I struggled to pull her out. On a required return visit, I was careful to close my car door when I went to the house. Returning, I ran around the car twice, the dog following and then reversed to confuse her, trying to get to the door before her. It was a tie, but I managed to squeeze in alone.
Quitting the census, I mowed the grass and resumed my morning exercises. Doing them, I bragged to myself that broken chest and all, I was still in better shape than most eighty year old men. Then it occurred to me it that most eighty old men are dead. It is easy to be in better shape, all you need is to be alive.
My garden did not prosper from inattention. Cut worms killed most of my green pepper plants and half of my tomatoes. Then I tried something new. Cut worms, according to Google, are the larva of night flying moths. Some attack from underground, some from the surface, but both within an inch or two of the surface of the ground. I saved emptied toilet paper rolls and forced new plants down into them so that their roots were at the bottom of the roll. Then I planted them in the ground, leaving the top of the roll an inch above the soil. While doing this, being short of rolls, I encouraged all family and friends to go to the toilet as much as possible. (That tactic didn’t work either, my plants continued to die.)
Having trouble with constipation, I asked Sheila to check out the effect of all the medicines I’m taking. It seems that every single one of them has constipation as a problem – and I take FIVE. She commented that they said exercise helped. It was her opinion that smoking my pipe and playing solitaire did not count as exercise. I have a bride with a limited imagination.
My bride is slipping badly. Last night I told her three jobs I wanted to do over Memorial Day. The next morning, getting ready for the day’s duties, I asked her what they were. She couldn’t remember! Obviously her mind is going. When I commented on this she explained that it is a consequence of living with Dannenmaiers for over thirty years. It can’t be me, must be the children.
Finally we had rain, a lot. Sitting on the porch, watching the rain, Sheila made the comment that the older she became, the more she realized how little she knew. It’s true. Intelligent people realize how little they know as they age. Only the young and the simple old believe they know everything.
Driving to Charlotte for a few small purchases, I mentioned to Sheila that I had read a news report that said Viagra was associated with deafness. She replied that she had read an article that sex was good exercise for those who had survived heart attacks. I replied that since I was already deaf, I’d ask Dr. Smith if they had any octogenarian strength Viagra tablets. It might be worth the experiment. And some of my older children wonder why I would rather chat with Sheila then listen to the radio while driving.
Sheila likes the fan on during hot and reasonably warm, to me, summer nights. I don’t. She claims she can’t get to sleep without it, I claim I can’t sleep with it. My solution is simple. I suggest she have it on, then, when she falls asleep, get up and turn it off. Sometimes wives don’t think of easy solutions.