It's colder than penguin snot in the holler today, but it's supposed to be nice for a part of the weekend. Maybe I can get off my big butt and get some stuff done.
We finally took the Christmas tree out the other night. It's been standing naked and dead in the corner of the living room since the first of the year. TA was building a fire pit and wanted to chop the tree and burn it for a New Years something or other, then she got the Hamthrax and damned near pewped herself to death for two weeks. So now there's a half dug hole surrounded by rocks in the front yard, with a crap ton of old pallets leaning against the front porch and a dead tree in the back yard.
You will have no trouble trying to find my house if you decide to stalk me.
I've been fighting with prescriptions the past two weeks. I'm out of Colcrys and Takeda has denied my new application for patient assistance, siting the Affordable Care Act as the reason. They're sending me a new "financial harship" form to fill out, which I will, but if I have to pay full price, I'm screwed. I'm already looking in to getting it from a Canadian pharmacy.
I need to do my taxes this weekend. It won't take long but I'm so brain drained by the time I get off from The Asylum each day that I can't bear the thought of trying to muddle through tax returns. Fingers crossed that I'll have enough to get a wood stove. I've looked at used ones, but they're all ginormous and will probably burn the trailer down. New, "mobile home" approved models are expensive. I'm still debating whether to just fire up the oil furnace. I hate the thoughts of buying oil, but I'm about to admit defeat. It's such a pain in the keister to order oil in the holler. We don't have good credit with them anymore, Ma saw to that, so I have to pay for it all when it's delivered. For them to drive to the holler, I have to buy a minimum.. I don't remember how much but it's about $300 worth.
It's almost spring anyway. Who knows what might happen between now and next winter?
Ma called from Shady Pines yesterday. She said she needed me to come pick her up from work, that her legs won't work, she can't walk and she doesn't know why. She's been like this since Christmas.. talking out of her head and running wheel chair laps around the home. They've run tests, there's nothing "medically" wrong, it's just her crazy.
I was a wreck after talking to her. I know when she's like that, she's legitimately afraid and there's not a damned thing I can do about it.
I still daydream about horses and having a place for them to live, but I don't stare hopelessly at photos of the ginormous seaside ranch for sale east of here. Now I look at Google Earth (and drive by, like a creeper) at Mamaws old farm house and plan where I'd put my big run in shed, where the fence would go and what color I'd paint the house. I suppose it's in the realm of possibilities. When Mamaw died, she left the old dairy farm (30 acres worth) to both my dad and his younger brother. It's not divided between them, they both own it. If he kicks the bucket and he doesn't have a will, would his part not go to me?
Realisticly speaking, he probably does have a will so that his part would go to his nephews, but I like to hold on to the hope that maybe he'll develop a conscience on his deathbed and leave it to me, along with a couple hundred K to fix it up with.
A girl's gotta dream right?
I'd better get on with the day. We'll talk again soon.