Saturday, July 4, 2020

Don't Trust that Day

I think the Mamas and Papas were on to something when they said you couldn’t trust Monday. The first weekday was more like Friday the 13th than Monday the 30th.

We were off to a good start since we headed out to mow the lawn before the temperature surged toward heat stroke level. I revved up my mower, put on my cap and googles. I reached for my ear protection muffs—and they were missing.

Since we were mowing the backyard, I pulled my car out and used the car remote to close the garage door, locked the car and hid the keys. I raced across the lawn to see if my husband was wearing my ear protection, but he insisted he was wearing the ones that were on his mower.

I went back to the house, took my car keys from their hidey-hole to use the car garage door opener. I searched every logical place and many illogical places for the earmuffs. Finally, I glanced down and saw them inside the back part of the mower.

A few clouds rolled in and it was almost pleasant mowing. Then, I noticed a streak of lightning. Since I was finished with my section of lawn, I went back to the garage. I unlocked the car and opened the garage door. I locked the car and put my car keys in my pocket.

After the sky cleared, I decided to take a flag to mark a seedling tree. I wound up circling the house and guess what wasn’t in my pocket when I got back to the house. Oh, it wasn’t just car keys missing, it was my entire key chain with every key I needed on it.

Harold and I searched the route I had taken, as I remembered, and couldn’t find my keys. Reminded me of Alzheimer’s Warning Sign #7: Misplacing things and losing the ability to retrace steps. I tried my best to retrace my steps and walked around the yard several times.

Well now. Trying not to panic, I called about getting a new car key from the dealership. When I heard the part about towing the car, I called my son. I have a spare key, but it wasn’t at our house. Eric came over to help me look. I walked with him showing him where I had driven the mower. I walked the area I remembered traveling, and he veered off to the side. In a few minutes, he found the keys. “I didn’t look there,” I said, “because I didn’t remember being over that far.” So much for retracing my steps, or in this case, the mower route.

As the day progressed, my husband and I went to the machine shop to see what kind of flowerpots we had. We found some pots, and when I went to move an over-sized pot, I tripped and fell. The good news was that I fell on some bags of mulch. Still, I twisted my sore knee and hurt my shoulder.

I took a few ibuprofen tablets for the pain, and thought I’d cozy up on the couch for a well- deserved rest. As I passed by Harold on the way to the living room, he said, “Oh I forgot to tell you…the Japanese beetles are back.”

The only good thing about the kind of Monday I had is that every other day of the week was fine. You just can’t trust Mondays.
Copyright © July 2020 by L.S. Fisher

1 comment:

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