Last week I wrote about Jean punishing me, at least in my opinion, for what I consider minor transgressions. This week the process continues. Each year, when I close up the cottage for the season, I lock up my file cabinets and hide the keys. There’s nothing particularly valuable in there, but they contain copies of tax returns and other personal itemsÂ I would rather not see distributed on the streets. When I locked them upÂ last year, Jean was with me and I asked her to help me remember where I put the keys.
When Rona and Barry moved out of the cottageÂ a couple of weeks ago, I went in and the place was cleaner than when I left it. I looked in what I considered my usual spots and no keys. I went through every drawer in my deskÂ and every wicker basket and still no keys. I went through all my dresser drawers and, you guessed it, still no keys. I went through all the drawers and hiding places in the condo and also came up empty. I went through the dresser drawers on Green Street and nothing. I asked Jean where I put them and she said she conveniently (my word) didn’t remember.
We talked last weekend about it and she asked if I looked on the side of the pantry at the Green Street house where she hung her keys. I said no but that could be where I put them. On Monday she went down to the house to do some yard work and I waited for her to return to ride bike. She called in a little while and said she wasn’t going to ride, so I decided to go out to Pierce Cedar Creek Institute to do a little work. We passed on the street as I was leaving and I told her where I was going. On the way, I stopped at the house and looked on the side of the pantry but, alas, no keys.
After I left Pierce I went out to the cottage and looked in the liquor storage box (it’s liquor we don’t drink so you are all welcome to look it over and see what you want) where I hadn’t looked before. No blankety blank key there either. I went through every drawer again and even shook out my underwear, socks, and anything else that could hold a key. I did find a key that slid into one of the locks but it didn’t open. I came back to the condo and was telling Jean that I looked for the key at Green Street, couldn’t find it, and then turned the cottage upside down. She got up, ran to the bedroom, and came back with the keys. She said she found them down at the Green Street house, put them in her pocket, and forgot to tell me. I still can’t understand how she could keep a straight face telling me that tall tale.
I’m a day or so late with this week’s rambling ‘cuz I’m a little under the weather. I felt kind of dragged out at time trials on Wednesday, was a little sluggish on Thursday and, as Friday wore on, I got worse. I figured I knew what it was and it wasn’t going away on its own, so Friday eveningÂ I headed for the Walk In Clinic. Being on the hospital board, I thought it would be good to see how things were going down there. I was in and out and on my way to the drug store within an hour. The service was great, everyone was very nice,Â and they confirmed what I thoughtÂ I had. After three days of drugs, I’m feeling a little better, but not quite back to normal. I’ll do a follow-up with my doctor tomorrow and get this whole issue put to bed.
Last evening Becky and Judy were over and they were on the deck with Jean. I think they wanted to get away from me so they didn’t catch what I have, but that’s 99.9% improbable. After a while I walked to the screen doorÂ and thought I might go out and sit with them for a couple of minutes. They must have known I was coming ‘cuz, as I got there, they were talking about panty hose and girdles and what kinds of things got pushed around andÂ hung out when you put them on. I did an aboutÂ face and decided maybe the fresh air wouldn’t do me any good.
Just (Getting A Kick Out Of Orange Pee) Jack