THE AGONY CONTINUES

My adventure in the mud on Tuesday was like a ride at Disneyland compared to what I went through on Wednesday.

Due to weeks (months?) of rotten weather I've been postponing my (dreaded) drive to town. The fact that I was completely out of supplies forced me to finally go yesterday (Wednesday). I had no choice. My only alternative was to stay here and perish with the cats......
......who would live longer than me because they'd eat my carcass after I croaked from starvation.

After enduring more rain than Noah ever imagined, there was (finally!) a miraculous break in the clouds early Wednesday morning. Seizing the unbelievably rare moment, I hurriedly dressed and stumbled out to the car - fervently praying that I could somehow get to town before the next deluge.

Just as I turned the ignition key (in the car), God must have woken up and noticed my good fortune. The heavens unleashed a torrent of rain.

Desperate, defiant, and completely against my better judgement, I ignored the deluge and headed for the narrow, winding mountain road which began the endlessly agonizing trek to town.

The rain was so heavy that my windshield wipers were useless, the windows kept steaming up, and my contact lenses were foggy. 
By the time I got to town my legs had turned into two strands of linguini and crowbars were required to pry my hands from the steering wheel.

Let's skip the joys of shopping in Walmart and take you on the journey home.

The rain was still relentless as I left town and began the trek home. My astonishment knew no bounds when a thick mountain fog appeared out of nowhere.

Tennessee is the only place where I've ever seen heavy fog and torrential rain at the same time.
It's also the only place where I've sweated blood and shit in my pants while driving in it.

I'll never know how I (FINALLY) made it home, but my Hallelujahs were rudely interrupted when - halfway up the hill - I got stuck in the mud. Again. Just like I did the day before. Only worse.

It was still pouring rain. The car wouldn't budge. The very thought of trying to haul $200 worth of supplies up the hill to the house was beyond the realm of possibilities.

I do my best to look tough, but in reality I'm a delicate pansy with health issues that would rival those of Camille.
Crippled back, bad knee, tricky hip - - not to mention heart palpitations that are more irregular than a pair of underwear purchased at the Dollar Store.

Sorry - my pathetic attempts to be witty are presently in Desperation Mode.

I staggered up to the house (through mud and ten-foot weeds) and changed my clothes. Then I dragged eight large pieces of cardboard from the garage to the car.
Placed them under the front and back of the tires for a semblance of traction.

Inch by inch - - and I mean inch by agonizing inch - - I managed to coax the obstinate car up the hill .
I started around noon and didn't successfully complete the task until 3:30 p.m. No lie.

The car kept rolling back into the mud. The tires slipped and screeched. I had to crawl out of the car every three minutes to readjust the muddy, sopping wet cardboard. I had to stop and rest frequently. My heart was pounding like a lovesick bunny. I felt like I was having a heart attack.

It was nearly dark when the car was safely ensconced near the garage and I started dragging groceries into the house. The perishables were getting soggy.

Your post is getting too damn long, Jon, and your readers are getting extremely restless.

Lighten up, Kemosabe. This is free, breathtaking entertainment that they couldn't find on any other blog.

Should I mention that an hour after I got the perishables into the refrigerator and freezer, there was a violent storm and another power outage?

The power wasn't restored until around 4:00 in the morning (Thursday).

I'm so goddamed exhausted that I don't think my power will ever be restored again. 


My usual humor is sorely lacking in this post. I'm definitely not in a funny mood.....

GRIM REALITY

 
Fair Warning:
I'm in a rotten mood. In fact, my mood is beyond rotten. If you're looking for uplifting inspiration and unmitigated joy, you're in the wrong place. 
My blog reeks with the stench of grim reality. 

I'm not sure what unmitigated means, but it sounds impressive. 

I've been low on supplies for weeks but never (yet) made it to town. There were torrential rains all last week, which finally froze and turned to snow on Friday.
I'm not about to make the perilous trek to town on slick or icy roads.

Mother Nature's warm and assuaging breath melted the snow quickly, but the relentless rain returned yesterday, making it impossible to do anything.

When I heard that the rain might temporarily stop on Tuesday (that's today) I gleefully and frantically made plans to drive to town.
Dry days are so rare in Tennessee, that any possibility of encountering one should be seized immediately and utilized wisely.

With no raindrops in immediate sight, I started out early this morning. 
My car actually started for a rare change.
First I drove to my mailbox - which is about two zillion miles from the house. Since the latch on the box is broken, all my mail was a soggy, pasty mess.

I decided to drive back to the house - so I could hang up my mail to dry (am I being funny?) and clean the filthy windows on the car.

Halfway up the hill to the mansion, I got stuck in the mud. That's nothing new. I get stuck in the mud every time it rains.

But I wasn't just stuck.
This time I was Super Glue stuck. When I crawled out of the car I sunk in mud up to my knees.

I should mention that my left knee (still) hurts so badly that I can't bend my leg - which makes maneuvering in four-foot-deep mud rather difficult.

I'll also mention that I was wearing my best pair of jeans and an extremely nice winter coat.
I fell in the mud at least half a dozen times (no lie). Within ten slippery minutes I looked like the Tar Baby in Uncle Remus.

I'm going to be merciful and spare you all the agonizing details, but I will say that it took two hours to extract the car from the mud - - during which time I said things so vile that it would make Satan blush.

Eventually I had to trek up the hill through the mud to the garage, where I got cardboard to wedge under the car tires.

I was so friggin' disgusted after the two-hour ordeal that I went inside, ripped off my mud-covered clothes, and collapsed into bed.

I am COMPLETELY out of supplies. Fortunately I found an extra bag of cat food - but it's a brand that they hate.

Why don't you have groceries delivered to your house, Jon? It would be easier.

Hey, Kemosabe, I don't live in Fairyland. I live in the outer realms of Hell. I doubt if anyone could find my address. And if they did, the delivery truck would probably be permanently lost in five-foot-deep mud and fifteen-foot-high weeds.

I'm going to valiantly try again tomorrow (Wednesday) - even though MORE rain is predicted.



Unrelated note:
I thought my previous blog post about the Oscars was fairly interesting but only about three courageous and gracious people read it. So I removed it. It probably wasn't as intriguing as I initially thought. Perhaps I'll post it again. Heck, who knows?
I'm in such a rotten mood that I don't give a rat's ass what's on my blog.

HANGING ON

Winter has arrived early and unexpectedly. Just a week ago it was balmy and mild. Impudent wasps were making a nest right by my front door (and chasing me inside every time I tried to step out).

The annual (and dreaded) influx of Asian beetles began with alarming rapidity. Every year at this time they descend like the plagues of Egypt - climbing the sides of the house, seeping through windows, getting into everything - from my hair and clothes to food on the dinner table. It took me twenty minutes to sweep them off the front porch - - and in less than five minutes they were back.

I took this photo last year, to show how they congregated on my bedroom window sill. They were just as bad this year.
Fortunately they die quickly and the influx only lasts a few days.

On Friday it was cold and rainy and the temperature dropped steadily all day. I had to make the dreaded (and long) trek to my mailbox to leave some letters for the mail carrier to pick up.

Since it was pouring, there was no way I could walk. I had to take the car. Things went reasonably well until I was returning and trying to get back up the hill to my house. I got stuck in the mud (this isn't the first time).

I tried to remember the rules pertaining to the situation.

Don't panic and don't accelerate.

I panicked.
I pushed the accelerator to the floorboard while the wheels screeched and spun and I sunk deeper into mud.

I had to walk back to the house (in deep mire and torrential rain) and get sheets of cardboard from the garage. I placed them under the tires of the car (for traction) and switched to the lowest gear ( never keep it in "drive" when you're stuck in mud). 

Finally I was free, but the car and I were covered in mud. And I was completely drenched.
I washed my clothes....but there's no possibility of drying them since the motor on my clothes dryer blew out.

My boots are still caked with mud and too wet to wear.

Yesterday (Saturday) was sunny but cold - a daytime "high" of only 34 degrees (that's Fahrenheit, for those of you in Guam).

The leaves are still hanging onto the trees so I wandered out to take some final photos of the foliage. A brisk and invigorating day.

Random scenes from the back yard.

 My two cats Bosco (left) and Scratch, hurrying up the porch steps to get back into the house. I let them out for a few minutes yesterday morning but they didn't like the cold.

My cat Scruffy died only two weeks ago and I'm still extremely upset over it. I miss her so much.

Tonight as I write this it's about 23 degrees. Cold and silent here in the woods. A few stray coyotes are howling in the far distance.

Much like the last November leaves, I'm still hanging on......

FROZEN LEAVES

Why Frozen Leaves? Because it sounds nice. And the leaves (or those few remaining) are indeed frozen solid today. I encountered some on my morning walk in the woods.

There hasn't been much excitement around here since the customer service repairman came (last Monday) to fix my router.
That sounds deliciously salacious.
Actually, he fixed my computer's router. Not mine.
Unfortunately. 
(I just threw that in to unnerve you).

The next day I had to drive to town. A wet, gloomy, damp, dreary, very misty day. It was Gothic. 

For the second time in a row I forgot to buy trash bags. I'm completely out of them. 
Make a list, Jon.
I made a list. I still forgot to buy them.

Whenever I go into town everything is a complete frenzy. The endlessly long and harrowing drive is enough to impede my memory. Then I have to haul my trash to the dump (this time in improvised trash bags). I have to put gas in the car, go to the bank, pay bills (I never pay online anymore - for reasons I won't go into), and get a month's worth of groceries. And cat supplies.

By the time I get done running around I can't even remember what gender I am - let alone what I have to buy.

On the way home, when I finally reached my property, my car got stuck in the mud. With an incredibly bad back and mud up to my knees, I'm pushing and dragging the friggin' car out of the relentless quicksand.

Then I have to drag bags and bags of groceries up the mercilessly muddy hill to the back door. Slipping, sliding, and gasping for breath.

I'm giving you the kind and gentle version. My existence here in the wilderness - at best - is beyond the deepest realms of hell. 

On the bright side, we had two gloriously warm days in the 50's (Wednesday and Thursday). It was so wonderful that I actually opened my bedroom window for a few hours.

On Friday the temperature dropped rapidly. Snow flurries all night. Today (Saturday, I think) the daytime "high" temperature is 18 degrees (Fahrenheit). It's supposed to get much colder next week. 

Here are a few photos I took today - along with sunsets on the recent warm days (Wed/Thurs).

 I mostly take the sunset photos from the front porch. It's the easiest way to do it.

 I couldn't stay out very long today because my fingers were nearly frozen (I don't have gloves)

Not a living soul except for me (partially alive) and a few birds. I did hear several woodpeckers. 

There were flurries all day long but not much accumulation.

REPEAT PERFORMANCE, WITH MUD

 The meadow at the edge of my property:

Lovely but dangerous when wet

I was covered in mud on Friday, but I'll begin my story the night before when I was relatively clean.

On Thursday night I decided to go to bed early, which was around 3:00 a.m. As a hardcore night owl, I often don't embark for Dreamland until dawn. Then I'll get up in about three or four hours to start my day.

This could possibly be the reason why I usually feel completely exhausted, quasi comatose, and on the verge of death - but I'm not sure.

Anyway, as soon as I climbed into bed, a massive thunderstorm began. Torrential rain, nerve-shattering thunder, and lightning so sharp and bright that it singed the hair on my chest and eradicated several of my best tattoos.

I only threw the tattoo part in to colorize my story and possibly pique your waning interest.

Since there was no possibility of sleep, I laid in bed for several hours watching the storm from the window. All three of my cats went into hiding because of the thunder, so I had the luxury of having the bed all to myself.

Incidentally, I have no curtains or blinds on my bedroom window because I love gazing out at my rustic surroundings (and the lightning) while snuggled in bed. I never worry about prying eyes or Peeping Toms. Heck, I'm in the mountainous middle of nowhere. Who's gonna see me - - Bigfoot? Smokey the Bear?

My boudoir window

By mid-morning the storm subsided and the torrent dwindled to a drizzle. By early afternoon the sun appeared and the freshly-drenched landscape (mountainscape?) looked gorgeous. Since the temperature had dropped drastically there weren't very many bees or wasps to annoy me.
Check out my previous post to read about the aforementioned bees and wasps.

It seemed to be a perfect time to venture outside and take some photos.

If you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you'll know that I'm a fairly new and inexperienced resident of the mountain wilderness. I've never quite grown accustomed to the dangerous slopes. I had several extremely nasty falls on the ice last winter - one of which was so bad that my back still aches every time I move.

Ever since then, I've tried to take some precautions. I've traded my slippery cowboy boots for shoes with rubber soles and traction. I'm careful where I walk and usually watch where I'm going.

So I'm outside, wearing rubber-sole shoes, and scaling the hazardous slopes with reasonable caution. And I'm capturing the wonders of nature with my El Cheapo digital camera.

As I point my lens skyward, toward the tops of the towering trees, my skid-proof soles come in quick contact with slick mud. I'm suddenly airborne and even more suddenly landing directly on my astonished ass.

The slide down the muddy hill is so fast and seamless that I don't have time to be scared. I crash into the side of the house with such force that the breath is knocked out of me.

I'm completely covered in mud. My right leg took the brunt of the impact and my knee is twisted. My wrists hurt. My back has discovered new dimensions of agony. If I still have my spine, it probably looks like a corkscrew.

As I laid there for fifteen minutes (no exaggeration) three thoughts crossed my mind:

1. If it wasn't for the house, I would have probably slid all the way to Kentucky.

2. The tires on my new wheelchair will have to have damn good tread.

3. My digital camera is undoubtedly in the trees.


After I locate my camera (it wasn't in the trees) and limp to the house, I begin to fully realize how extremely dangerous this place is - no matter what kind of shoes you're wearing. Hell, I hated Texas, but at least it was on level ground.

This was a repeat performance of my wretched experience last winter. Same fall. Same slide. Same pain. The only thing missing was the ice. 

My surroundings are beautiful,

 but is it worth the pain?
(all photos were taken yesterday) 

So how am I doing now?
Not too good. I ache in places I never knew I had, but at least I can still walk. I'm suddenly realizing that I might not be so lucky next time.


It took a helluva long time for me to tell this story, but extending small incidents is my specialty.


 

 

CHAIR FROM HELL AND SLIPPERY SLOPE RIDE

Slippery Slopes

 

 

The Tennessee mountains are damp and wet. Perpetually wet, as I'm finding out. The ground is soft and mushy, slippery, carpeted with rich green moss. And that's on the rainless days. When it rains, it's an obstacle course of mud.

My house here in the mountains is (of course) on a slope. Everything is slanty or slopey and it takes awhile to get used to it.

Spell Check assures me that the words slanty and slopey do not exist, but I don 't give a damn. They exist in the mountains of Tennessee.

This isn't a lesson in topography. It is merely a prelude to my story; an appetizer before the main course.

Here's the main course:

It's raining relentlessly all day Saturday. I feel lazy and lethargic - - alarmingly unmotivated. The house is still empty. My furniture won't be delivered until Tuesday. All I have is a small table, a metal folding chair, and that ancient repulsive reclining chair that the previous owner left.

The repulsive reclining chair has turned out to be an island of refuge in a sea of nothingness. Me and my three cats actually battle one another to utilize the chair. If I get into the chair first and fall asleep, I usually wake up to find two or more cats crowded in the chair with me.

To say that our sleeping arrangement is uncomfortable would be a gross understatement. I'm nearly crippled from aches and pains. When I wake up it usually takes ten minutes for me to dislodge myself from the cats and the chair's unwholesome grip. Then I limp and stagger around all day doing a bad imitation of Quasimodo.

This afternoon my rapidly deteriorating body is wracked (racked?) with pain. I'm in a foul mood - alternately grumbling curses at the chair, the cats, and the incredibly slow moving company (which seems to be coming via wagon train).

Despite the rain and the pain, I decide to venture outside to quickly clean one of the rain gutters - which has been hopelessly clogged with leaves. This impromptu project would be the highlight of a boring day.

After cleaning the gutter, I decide to wander around the side of the house to check something in the garage.

It's still raining. Mud is everywhere. I'm trying to be careful......
....but......

I suddenly slip on the top of a slippery slope.
Both legs fly out in front of me. I land on my ass in a sea of mud, hurting both wrists as I instinctively try to break my fall.

Stars and birdies orbit around my head, like in a Warner Brothers cartoon.

Before I even have time to comprehend the situation, I'm sliding on my ass at breakneck speed down the hill. It's better than an E Ticket ride at Disneyland. Or a water slide.

As my ride gains momentum, I have periodic regrets about living so far away from a hospital. My regrets are expunged as I hit the next mud puddle and slam to a stop.

It takes me a few seconds to breathe again. And about another minute to assess the situation.

I'd made it down a mountainside riding solely on the cushion of my ass and lived to tell about it. Thanks to the big mud puddle at the end of the ride. It acted like a gigantic airbag, courtesy of Mother Nature.

I laboriously crawl on my hands and knees up the slope and back to the house. It's only then that I realize my clothes are covered in mud and I won't have a washing machine until Tuesday. Well, at least I can take a shower.

It would all be hilarious if it wasn't so painful.