Our son Stephen has been on a roll recently. The other day I was complaining about how much money Medicare and Blue Cross had spent on me in the past two years. Stephen, listening to my conversation with Sheila, spoke up and said, “Let’s face it, Dad. It costs a lot to restore classics.” Then, today, again talking to my bride, I complained about all the medicines I’m taking – seven pills a day (counting two “baby” aspirin) and still not being allowed to do any meaningful work. Again, Stephen interrupted a conversation with, “To save an old wreck you have to put it up on blocks.” When we finished laughing, I gave him a job to do. 

I have been promoted (?) from three days a week in Cardiac Rehab to two days a week in what I fondly call the Cardiac Club. Receiving my certificate I said that I had it on good authority that Mary Ann and Tammy had gone to the administration and demanded combat pay if they kept having me for three days a week or else they were going to put in for psychiatric disability as a result of emotional stress. Mary Ann said the administration had promised to keep that secret.

Stephen caught six mice in his corn bin. Not wishing to either free them or kill them himself, he took them to the front yard and the cat. Baxter, who leaps our fence with ease, accompanied him. One by one, Stephen turned the mice loose. Our cat was uninterested. Baxter caught and killed four of them, only one escaping his attentions. I have an otherwise worthless seventy pound Rottweiler who is a mouser! (If the numbers don’t add up, the one the cat sniffed at ran free also. 

For murder mystery lovers, Sheila and I recommend M. C. Beaton’s Hamish Macbeth mysteries.  There is always humor, the murder victim is always a person you don’t like and the murderer is one who you are happy to see punished. We consider her “A Highland Christmas” the best of all. 

I was sitting on the front porch on our recent 90 degree Fathers’ Day, in clothing that would have had me arrested in any city, reading a card my bride had given me. It said, “You don’t know how I feel when your arms are around me.” I looked at her and asked, “Hot and sweaty?”

Sheila has been “hinting” that a two seated rocking bench at the Mennonite store would be nice to have, so, this morning, She and I drove up to price it. There was no doubt it was comfortable, sturdy and would fit on the porch. When I found out the price was $129, I told her I could afford it, it would be her birthday present. Then, looking at Mr. Yoder, I said, “Her birthday is coming up on the 29^th. Sheila said, “My birthday is in July, not June, and it’s on the 21^st not the 29^th.” I said, “I was thinking of our anniversary.” Her reply, “We were married in August.” “Well, August the 30^th.” “No, August the 17^th.” Then she looked at the amused owner and said, “We’ve only been married 30 years, he’ll learn in time.”

Returning home, relaxing on the porch, my bride said, “I’ve always heard about those husbands who can’t remember birthdays and anniversaries. You are so much better. If I played my cards right, we could celebrate birthdays and anniversaries every month, on the 17^th, the 21^st, the 29^th….”

Sometimes, Sheila’s sarcasm is not overly subtle, so we wandered on to the Mennonites – who are wonderful newcomers to the Furnace – and churches we have attended. I confess my problem with all of them is that I seldom see them relate Christianity and its beliefs to the problems we face in the world today. Sheila and I agree that Christianity is under steady attack in our nation and that we need more ministers – and churches – to speak out against these attacks cleverly concealed under innocuous sounding laws such as the Hate Crime legislation, late term abortion “rights” and diversity rulings - all of which sound good, but have been and are used to attack practicing Christians. 

Just as a side note, I believe it is much easier to attend church than it is to be a Christian.

Recently, my brother Joe must have been slightly annoyed by one of my blogs. It was a bit critical of Obama’s reign: his announced plans and accomplishments in contrast to his campaign promises. I quote Joe’s memo to me. “Darn it Bill, quit quibbling. Now that we are out of Iraq and Afghanistan, friendly with Cuba, have eliminated our dependence of foreign oil, opened up our closed government, and have a vice-president who speaks only the truth you have to admit we NEEDED change. But now we have it and everything is great.”

Sheila asked me if I understood the “toxic asset” plan. I said I thought so, that it appeared rather simple. Banks which made bad loans as a result of Congressional pressure (read Frank and Dodd with Pelosi’s leadership) now had money tied up in property that wasn’t worth much. Congress would buy (with taxpayer money) these worthless notes held by the banks so that the banks could make more bad decisions as to whom they should loan money. This would, of course, require the employment of large numbers of new federal workers, which would satisfy Obama’s promise to increase employment – he never said he would increase PRODUCTIVE employment. Then in another year or two, Congress would have more toxic loans to buy up. A great plan, it only requires new and higher taxes.

Almost two years ago, we agreed to take a large black rabbit – with cage – which someone at the Cardiac Club had to unload. After a few months, we were concerned about the poor beast spending all of its life in a small cage. For a change, we rigged a line across the back yard with the cage at one end. Then we put a harness on the rabbit, permitting it the partial freedom of running across the yard and sleeping in its cage. The problem was that the rabbit kept getting out of its harness and running the yard – and my garden – freely. By fall, the garden was destroyed and the rabbit was adept at avoiding us. So, we decided to simply let it run feely in the yard, which it enjoyed. It would come close to us to be fed – it liked apples and sunflower seeds, but avoided being touched. This spring I pointed out to the family that there was no point in my attempting to have a garden, much less to raise spinach and green peppers, with the beast running free. The problem was catching her to put her back in her cage. The other evening, when I, once again, told Stephen this, he went out and came back in a few minutes later, stating the thing was safely caged. It seems that when chased, which Stephen had experience in doing, our rabbit ran to the smokehouse and leaped into a hole that led under the building. Our Stephen placed a large rock over the hole. When the rabbit, being chased, raced for the hole and leaped to enter it, there was the rock. Stephen said he simply went over, picked up a stunned bunny, I suppose with a headache, and put her back in her cage.   We are still laughing about it, but I don’t suppose our caged bunny is.  I plan on planting my green peppers in the next day or two.

I hadn’t seen Dr. Smith in some time and Megaera was ill, so I paid a visit to him. He thinks I come because he is an excellent doctor and my friend, but the truth is that there is a Publix grocery near him which sells fresh fish and spiced meats which are unavailable nearer and has a sinful bakery counter. Among Sheila’s purchases was a nine dollar package of fresh cod. She cooked it that evening. We took some for our evening meal and left the majority on the stove for the boys. Later, walking into the kitchen for a second helping, I found it all gone. But Stephen and Andrew had yet to come downstairs for supper. I had a very angry wife and a very satisfied mongrel shepherd – Yukon.

Incidentally, on the way to Dr. Smith, Sheila insisted that I take a different route which she claimed was shorter and less hazardous. True, the first two miles were easy, the next fifteen were on highway 47, which has the sharpest curves and the highest accident rate in middle Tennessee. Then we were on four lane divided highways, crowded, with a legal speed of 55 and a “keep up with the flow” speed of 75. Total trip, 49 miles – I checked. Coming home I took my preferred “long” route, two lane highway, gentle curves and little traffic. Total distance, 36 miles. Ah well, it wasn’t as bad as the time she took me a hundred miles in the wrong direction while serving as my navigator in Massachusetts.

Among the welfare animals (they produce no good, wantonly destroy our garden and consume our resources) which wander our yard is a rabbit, Suzy. I keep hoping she’ll run away, but she likes free-loading. The other morning, while sitting on the porch after feeding the dogs, cats and birds I looked over at the dog food tank. Sheba was asserting her authority by being first at breakfast and Baxter was sitting about five feet away waiting his turn. Then up hopped Suzy. She looked over at Sheba and then hopped over to Baxter and sat down next to him, turning her head to look up at him before beginning to groom herself. Our animals may be useless, but they do have a camaraderie of uselessness – much like too many people. 

In the spirit of Valentine’s Day I purchased my bride a five dollar box of chocolates the other day, not realizing that I was buying a lovely four and a half dollar box and six chocolates. On the way home, we shared one. In the morning I noted that she had erred and left the box on the kitchen table. Andrew was standing by and I congratulated him, saying it was nice that he and his brother had left their mother’s present alone. He said, “Well, Stephen and I did share one.” Opening the box, I saw only three remaining. Commenting on the one Sheila and I had eaten and the one he confessed to sharing, he quickly said, “Stephen had another one.” No one confesses to another’s sins so quickly as a brother or sister.

Telling this story in the Cardiac Club, it elicited numerous stories of children and grandchildren from our members and aroused a few memories of my own. One of my favorites concerned my nephew John, then about five, and his sister, Julie, an enterprising three. My sister reported that she had to keep punishing John for pummeling his little sister, then, one day she was in the front room cleaning. She could see John and a friend sitting on the front steps talking when Julie came out of the house, swung a fist, hit John in the back and ran in the house crying, two steps ahead of an angry brother. That day it was Julie who received the spanking!

Unlike many forgetful, neglectful and otherwise despicable husbands, I always remember Valentine’s Day. As soon as I’ve finished reading the news on the Internet, made my coffee, fed our welfare livestock, walk into the bedroom to dress for the day and see the card with the heart on it lying on my pillow, I rush to my bride and say, “Happy Valentine’s Day” and give her a big hug and a kiss. What more can a girl want? After all, she is my Valentine….

As my bride prepared lunch the other day, I settled in the family room to set up a movie for us to watch while eating. I looked forward to lunch that day. She had purchased a frozen diet meal of shrimp and rice which is a favorite of mine. To my surprise she came in with cheese and crackers. She had dropped my shrimp and rice. It turns out I’m not the only one in the house who enjoys shrimp and rice. Baxter and Yukon, our pure-bred mongrel shepherds, had cleaned the floor beautifully.

I fear I might have black fly disease. For the unsophisticated: black flies attack deer. Deer, who catch the disease black flies carry, die a slow death; tired and starving. Black fly disease is not supposed to affect humans.  I have been assured that even infected venison is safe to eat. When walking last year, I received numerous black fly bites. These only annoyed me at the time, but now I find myself tired a lot of the time. The medical profession is making a fortune off of me, with operations and treatments. But they are overlooking the real culprit, my problems have nothing to do with a broken chest, bad arteries or age. I have black fly disease. After all, I am a dear human.  Ask Sheila.

For some reason my son Eric brought four sets of colorful cotton pants for me on his last visit. They were for night wear. Either he saw me walking about on an earlier visit in the long underwear pants, slightly worn, that I purchased in 1982, or my bride had made disparaging comments about them to him. Anyway, Sheila has appropriated two of these. This morning, a cold one, she was walking about in them when we were preparing to go to the Cardiac Club. I got dressed, or undressed, to go (I don’t believe in excessive or heavy clothing when I have to weigh in every time) when I noticed my bride had changed into her jeans. Driving to the hospital, I asked why she changed. “Because they are pajamas, not outer wear.” “Why did you tell me to wear them yesterday when you refuse to wear them today” I asked? “Well if I went in there in pajamas, Mary Ann and Tammy (the nurses in charge) would check me for a fever and then send me to a psychiatrist, but if you wore them they would only say, “That’s Bill,” and forget it.

Mary Ann likes to write advice, especially diet advice on the blackboards. This morning one board was empty so I decided to help her out when she was distracted by business. I wrote, “Every one knows that cream is very light. It floats to the top in milk bottles, so, if you wish to lose weight, pour whipping cream over everything you eat. You’ll float on the scale.”

I saw Mary Ann read it, look at me, and shrug.  Why she looked at me, I don’t know.

Meanderings

By

William D. Dannenmaier

Media stars complained that Sarah Palin was sending the same message every time. That is a problem for a person who has values and beliefs. They don’t change daily. Perhaps that is why the media personalities favor Obama, he is for change. He changes on economics, he changes on Iraq, he changes on so much it is hard to keep track. But he can be depended on for something new every time he talks. 

My son Bill reported that the damage to the homes he and his brothers Chris and Eric own in Galveston has been much worse than expected and he wondered if Stephen and Andrew could use their spring vacations to come and help.  I asked Andrew and his immediate answer was “Yes.” While Stephen was preparing to leave for school I asked him if he would go, provided his half-brothers paid his transportation down and back. I liked his immediate answer. “Certainly, one has to help family.” 

Some may recall that early in Obama’s run for the Democratic nomination he visited Africa. Accompanied by photographers and news media, he recalled his family heritage which included a visit to his half-brother. In a follow-up visit by a reporter from a European newspaper, the half-brother was reported as living in a hut on a dollar a month and said that his one wish was to get enough money to go to school to be a mechanic, so he could earn a decent living. (Dinesh D’Souza, Townhall.com, September 8, 2008) If one considers it, the faith of some people is amazing. Obama, a millionaire, will not send his half-brother the few hundred dollars that would enable him to obtain the education that he needs to escape poverty, yet people believe that if he elected, he will do great things to help people he doesn’t know.

Following a small incident at the Cardiac Club, I am again under house arrest until I receive approval from my cardiologist – no exercising, no lifting of objects over 10 pounds, and a report from Sheila on my daily diet, heart checks three times a day, etc. I telephoned Dr. Smith’s office to protest (Dr. Gary Smith is my G.P.) in anticipation of visiting him immediately. His delayed reply was that he had broken his foot. I e-mailed in return that he should stop kicking the wall when he heard that I planned an office visit.

Sheila had a laugh on me today. It was time to take the trash to the dumpster, so I began carrying the bags out to the four-wheeler, when Sheila bustled in, pushed me out of the way and carried the heavier bags and put them in the trailer. As I drove down the driveway and headed to the dumpster, I was laughing to myself that it hadn’t occurred to my bride that I would lift them out and throw them in the dumpster. After I arrived at the dumpster and had thrown in a lighter bag, Andrew pulled up in Stephen’s car. Sheila had sent him racing down to unload the trailer. She enjoyed that petty victory over me out of all proportion (in my opinion) to her triumph.

I would never, ever, under any conditions suggest or even hint that my bride doesn’t anticipate needs, consider resources and plan in detail her delicious meals, that’s why I was a bit surprised when, as I asked her what was for dinner. She looked up from where she was bending over varied packages in the bottom of the refrigerator and said, “I don’t know. Probably what’s in this package as soon as I find out what it is.”

Still on the topic of brides, I noticed an empty Hershey’s wrapper the other morning, and accused Sheila of eating chocolate without sharing. Her reply, “I know you believe it is immoral to eat chocolate before noon, but I don’t. So I helped save a moral dilemma for you by not mentioning it.” When I replied that she was flip-flopping on morals, she said, “Absolutely not. I’m firm in my morals for me and I’m firm on my morals for you.” Husbands can’t win.

The other morning I awoke completely refreshed, noticed that Sheila was up and hopped up myself. Entering the kitchen, I noticed she hadn’t started my coffee so I began that, but decided a trip to the bathroom was more essential. On the way there, I encountered my bride returning. Going back to the kitchen, I started on coffee and then looked at the clock. It was 11:30! I had slept all of two hours. I quit on the coffee and returned to bed.

On a political note, I have enjoyed the picture of Pelosi and Reid standing together, not a Republican in sight, and proclaiming the success of their Wall Street Bailout. The picture occurred on the same day that headlines announced that the bill had failed in passage. Now, Pelosi puts the Republicans as responsible, forgetting to mention that 40% of the Democrats she leads voted against it. For once, members of the House of Representatives have represented their constituents’ wishes!

All in all, the month of September was not the best for either McCain or me. Our refrigerator quit cooling, the gas heater in the study was disintegrating, the microwave showed problems and I was unable to get the doctor’s approval to return to normal activity until he has put me through some tests and I have seen a surgeon. Now, we have a new refrigerator, a new gas heater, a replacement microwave and Sheila has been talking about how attractive some of the men in the Cardiac Club are.