This week we've had appointments or someplace to go every single day. Not that I'm griping, because what else are we doing? And we are both enjoying our little Ford Maverick. We get a so-much-smoother ride, and it's easier to get in and out of than the Honda. It's been getting around 27 or 28 miles per gallon, too.
Yesterday A.M. we had our annual visit with a Medicare Advantage nurse/doctor. This time it was an actual doctor. I asked him if we had moved up in the world, getting a real doctor to come visit us instead of a nurse. He said, "Why yes, and I'll give you the bill when we're done."
Of course there's no charge for it; I always liked a doctor with a sense of humor. I asked him if they come to old folks' homes to see if they are hoarders; he said, "No, it is their space, and we don't try to change them; however, we do not have to go into a place where it doesn't seem safe."
Then he proceeded to tell us something that happened about eight miles from us on Wednesday of this week. He arrived at the house, which appeared very unkept: Litter scattered over the yard, junk cars all around the property. He opened a gate and walked through it, shutting it behind him. He noticed a large dog house in back and thought to himself, "that probably means a big dog is in there." He was leery, but stepped up on the front porch. He said the smell was awful, and when he looked down, he saw turds... the strangest-looking turds he had ever seen! He told us he was being very quiet, and hadn't knocked on the door yet. He glanced out at the big dog house and realized there was no dog in it... but a pig laying with its head out of the door, sleeping. "I don't mean a pig," he said. "I mean a hog; it was BIG."
At that, he said he tiptoed off the porch, quietly got in his car, and left. By the way, a hog is still a pig no matter how big they get. Obviously he has lived in the city all his life. But here's what Cliff and I though was funny: Probably that pig had been raised as a pet, and if it had seen the visiting doctor, would have waddled up to him grunting, wanting a good belly scratch. But no wonder he thought the stink was awful; pig poop is the worst... well, except for cats and dogs!
I can't make fun of the doctor, though. If I weren't familiar with pigs, I'd be afraid of a big one too. Not to mention that most people have heard about pigs eating folks. And then there are the documentaries on television about wild boars. Just check out "Amazing Pigs" on Paramount+.
Reminds me of a time before our son was born when I was babysitting a little girl every day. I had a banty hen that hatched out some babies, and she'd run around the yard clucking at her brood. If I wanted to hold a chick to show the little girl, I'd get the hen and her family in a corner and grab a baby, and of course she'd try to attack me, as any mother would. Nothing she did really hurt me, so I just ignored her until I was done with the chick. But when the father came to pick up his little girl, he was terrified of that hen! He didn't want to be within 10 feet of her.
Back to the doctor visit, we both seem to be doing OK. These days my blood pressure is in the 140's, even though I take a blood pressure pill; but all the doctors, even the cardiologist, say that's fine for someone my age.
So there you have it. We've had some gentle rain this morning, and I'm hoping we get enough rain this year to make the garden grow. We are still far behind the normal amount.
I hope all is well with everyone who reads this.
