January Nineteenth; Footnotes of a Learning Curve Along a New Trail

  I’ve made mention many times that we are always learning something. Many times whether we want to, are seeking it, or not. I got handed several lessons today, and they pretty much covered the board. Now, as I sit here with a cup of coffee gone cold, a dog asleep at my feet and a nature documentary on television, I can say it was a good day of schooling.


It began with my seeing the first feral cat on the back step. I got up and prepared the food to take outside. The cat ran, I knew it would. Then it surprised me by coming back out of hiding quicker than usual. The minute I stepped back inside actually. I watched it eating for a few moments and then walked back to the backdoor. When I spoke to the cat, it looked up at me, then returned to eating. I stood and spoke to it for several moments, but it never looked back up. I learned that feral cats, when they are hungry and have deemed you no threat, will ignore you just like your child. I also learned that feral cats, once they discover they are going to be fed, become picky in what they will eat. Just like a child. But they can be so cute and innocent when they are playing. Just like a…


I hate vacuuming. I’m not sure why, I just do. I prefer to grab a broom and sweep over dragging out the vacuum. Today though, I decided I would vacuum. I drug the vacuum out and removed the canister. Carrying it outside I opened it to empty. Pet hair makes that difficult. Lesson one. I finally managed to get everything I could from the bottom. Closing that, I removed the top and cleaned it out from that end. I removed the filter and cleaned that. Then I had to figure out how to put the puzzle back together. I think I dislike puzzles now. Lesson two.


 My son had came in for lunch and after watching me struggle, started to put it back together for me. I refused to let him. This was my challenge. I needed to figure it out for myself.


 It took a lot of trial and error, trying to figure out exactly which if everything was in place and which direction to turn it to lock everything in place. I talked to, argued with and even yelled at the vacuum. I swore it laughed at me. Once I finally managed to get everything canister wise together, I had one more step. I had to get the canister back on the vacuum. Lesson three. 

The weird thing though, when I went to actually, finally use the vacuum, I thought I felt a quick shock. I ignored it thinking I was imagining things. Nope, it began happening more and more often. Finally, it reached a point I decided to stop, unplug and wait on my son to check it out. Lesson four. Common sense pays.


At one point, I was brought a load of fire wood. When I say a load, I mean a load. I doubt whoever loaded that truck could have gotten any more on it and the truck still move. I had gotten my two barkers inside the house and went outside to help unload. I was told that I didn’t have to, but my response was simple. “If I’m going to be the one burning it. I can at least help unload it.” And even though I was distracted a couple of times by the cute doggo in the front of the truck I did manage to help. Working as a team, we got it unloaded, stacked and covered.


 If the weather stays as nice as it was today, I should have enough wood to last for quite a while. (Not complaining one bit on that one.) Before he left, I got my broom and swept out the bed of the truck. If I hadn’t I just knew he was going to have sawdust and pieces of bark and what ever, blowing out. I really didn’t want to risk that happening as he passed a bored police officer who wanted to accuse him of litter or some such. It really didn’t take all that long to get it swept. Lesson , I lost count.


While they were here, they told me they had found out to try and get health insurance now would cost me over seven hundred dollars a month. There is no way I have that. Which means waiting until November and hoping for the best. I may have to stay away from chainsaws. But I have wood now so that shouldn’t be a problem.

While going down my email list this afternoon, one immediately caught my eye. The subject line mentioned the vaccination. I had set up the appointment times for my parents to get the vaccine per their doctor’s orders. Since they don’t have internet access, they have no email, so I used mine. Therefore, I got the email with the forms they need to fill out.


 First off, I have an aging printer that works when it wants, jams the paper when it chooses, and drinks ink worse than my old Ford Explorer drank gas. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to print the forms but I tried.Thankfully they all printed well enough to read and fill out.


Taking the papers down to mom I explained what they were. Their appointment isn’t until Friday. I’ll help her read my weird printers work Thursday and get the forms filled out. My mother has never needed help before. I’ll blame it on my printer. I don’t mind helping getting that done. I’m hoping having that done will  help speed things along. I’m already fairly sure I’ll be the one driving Friday morning.

Sitting here now, spending time reflecting on my day, I know that if I were not writing this, I may not fully realize the lessons learned. The moments of growth in understanding and comprehension. I saw feral cats showing their first signs of trust. I saw someone who cares enough to make sure I’m warm and not messing with chain saws. I saw a moment of weakness in my folks. I saw another part of the trail I am traveling. There is good and bad. We face, we learn and we adjust.


 Life hands out all manner of lessons. We travel many trails in the process. It can be, and is, an amazing journey.

About rebecca s revels

A writer, a photographer, a cancer survivor. An adventurer of the mild kind, a lover of the simple pleasures such as long walks and chocolate. A Christian unashamed of my faith and a friend who is dependable and will encourage readily. Author of three self published books with more waiting to find their way to paper. An advocate of good things, a fighter against wrongs.
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2 Responses to January Nineteenth; Footnotes of a Learning Curve Along a New Trail

  1. Irene Melgoza says:

    It wasn’t meant for you to vacuum after all. 🙂

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