Donated blood at work today. I used to do it all the time in New Jersey, and was glad to see the Red Cross coming to our school at regular intervals. I'm thrilled they want my old lady blood. They kept asking for my birth date and every time I said it I thought they would say no thanks. Maybe they will find it deficient and kindly discard it later when I don't know about it. If it was up to me donating blood would be mandatory for all who are qualified. It's just the right thing to do. Felt a little woozy afterwards even with tanking up with lots of water. It's a volume thing, not a sugar thing, even though they offer you all kinds of cookies afterwards. The technician was fabulous - young bald guy who was so deft and quick I hardly felt a thing. He found my one good pipe with no problem. I wanted to tell him some of my phlebotomy technician stories from 35 years ago at Morristown Memorial Hospital, but he was too busy hopping from table to table. Matt called to say he finally was seen at the urgent care center in Syracuse, after more than three hours waiting. The nurse took my band aids off and sniffed the mushy finger tips and pronounced no infection. Gee, I could have done that and saved him all that time. They did not even bandage the wounds but gave him two plastic devices to protect them from bumping. He bought his own bandages on the way home. No visible bloody stumps. After sitting in the waiting room chairs his back was so tense the old muscle spasms came back and he was a mess. After dinner he collapsed on the sofa apologizing about not being able to help with chores, and I fell asleep during the news. It was tough to get up again but Father Aaron called from Nevada and we chatted a while. He scolded me about the fact that I was so hard on Matt injuring himself. Any loss of helping hands on a farm is a big deal. Didn't make it out to chores until after 8, which put me inside at 10:25. I love the late night when everyone is taken care of and I'm resigned to the fact that I'm not going to get any more done. My time is truly my own. I kick back on the sofa with the doggies, my tea, maybe my spinning wheel, and my movie channels. The two hour Downton Abbey last night was magnificent. My favorite episode yet. I can't say enough good things about that show. It has so many redeeming qualities. I love the way everything works out, and when it doesn't, the family makes it work out. They make good come out of death, destitution and misery. If only real life was so simple. I loved giving the old girls their apples tonight. There are five or six old girls who line up for the quarter slices, leaning over the fence as far as they can, flapping their lips with glistening noses and sparkly eyes. It's wonderful to see them so lively. I hate when the bag runs out. At $5 for a 3 pound bag I can only give them one bag a night. They would eat and eat and eat those apples. Now that I've gotten them started on this nightly treat I had better not come home without apples. I have to get another round bale tipped over in the morning, and will need Matt's help. Much easier to fork the folds off the giant ball if it's not sitting on them. You'd have to be there to understand. It's a farm thing.
Monday, February 11, 2013
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1 comment:
I read your blog Maggie! I read it because you take the time to let the world know that little farms exist, sheep and other livestock have personalities, farming is not for sissies and to take the pulse of the world in general. Keep it up!
I guess winter hasn't been too bad for us- I still have 2 new jars of your hand-cream!
Cheryl G.nialyr
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