my first iris of the yearWe went for another motorcycle ride yesterday. Today is the monthly sale at Cook Tractor in Clinton; they're open for a few hours on Sunday to accommodate people bringing items in for sale, so Cliff figured we'd ride down there and he could look over all the
Before going to Cooks, we wanted to find a Subway so we could split a foot-long sub for dinner. After driving around for twenty minutes searching in vain, we stopped at a Casey's convenience store where the clerk gave Cliff easy directions to Subway. We asked the folks there for the location of the nearest city park, and that's where we ate, enjoying the diet Cokes I had taken along, packed in ice. Then we were off to look at the tractors.
When we arrived at Cooks, Cliff found out his cell phone was gone. Normally he wears overalls and the phone is tucked safely into the bibs; yesterday, though, he wore jeans, and had the phone clipped to his waist. Somewhere in our travels it had fallen off. Cliff was absolutely frantic. I explained to him that we were due for an upgrade anyhow. He was afraid he'd have to get a new number if he didn't have his sim card (I'm sure T-mobile could have given him his same number). I suggested we try calling his cell from mine; maybe somebody had found it and they'd answer. Nobody did. Of course, we had no way of knowing when or where the phone had been lost; it might be laying along the highway someplace.
So, Cliff went looking at tractors and I read my book. When we were getting ready to head home, he asked for my phone so he could try calling his cell one more time. When I got it out of my purse, I saw I had a message from the oldest grandson: "Grandma, I called Grandpa and didn't get an answer; then I got a return call from his phone and I answered, 'Hello, Grandpa,' and a lady's voice said, 'This isn't your grandpa, this is Casey's South in Clinton.'"
The day was saved, and Cliff was happily reunited with his cell phone. What a close call that was!
My new calf, Jody, is eating a lot of grain now and seems to know her name. I'm not sure, maybe she just knows my voice, but when I step onto the front porch and call, "Jody," she gets up and comes running to my end of the pen. She also knows me from other people; my granddaughter got in the pen with her and she was scared of her! I guess that surprises me because cows aren't all that bright, and I figured she'd think any two-legged creature might be a source of milk for her.
Tyler, the young man next door with cancer, has not received the best of news; cancer is in lymph glands, and he's scheduled to receive such a strong dose of chemo that his hair will fall out, they told him, the same day. It really bothers him that he's going to lose his hair; he'd like to just hide out until it grows back. With any form of cancer, there's always that slim chance, that small percentage of people who become survivors. I try to keep that fact in mind and not be pessimistic. Those who pray, please remember to do so for Cliff's "little buddy" who helped him haul hay when the hay bales were heavier than he was.