Canadian-Traveler

June 01

Morning has broken like the first day….

Our first morning at home starts with a problem. Molly has gotten some sort of an aggressive allergic reaction. Was it that tic Bea found on her and accidently squasched when trying to remove it? Or was ist something Molly ate? We don’t know, but the dog was back and forth and up and down all night and when the vet’s practice opened in the morning Bea phoned and got an appointment.

While waiting for the appointment we drive north on the island to get my truck out of the winter storage. Later, I intend to drive down to the beach to pick up some nice driftwood I’ve seen the evening before.

It’s a sunny day again, but with the wind out of the north-west it’s not so muggy anymore.  At a quarter to twelve Bea leaves across the border for the vet office at Perry, Maine.

Meanwhile I am puttering around in the house, drive to the post office and get a big pile of mail.

When Bea comes back in the afternoon, Molly seems better and she got some pills and other remedies for Molly.

For Bea, who has been up several times during the night, it is nap-time now. And while she is napping I decide to pick up that driftwood from the beach. I get out my chainsaw, for the log I saw is too long for the pickup.

With the pickup backed-up to the beach I drag the two halfs up the tailgate and push it onto the truckbed. I also find a few smaller pieces and get back home with my load.

With a rope around the logs I try to pull them off the truck. It works out for the first one, but the other half rolls sideways and when one end comes down it falls on my left foot nailing the foot to the ground. Desperately I try to roll the log off my foot, but the only way off is over my ankle. It hurts so I groan, and when it is off I roll back in the grass.

I am undecided whether I shall tell Bea, but then I realize I can only limp around, so I guess there is no way to keep it a secret.

A round red spot on my ankle marks the place I got the log on my foot.  Bea gives me the looks when putting an ointment on the foot. A  bandage follows, held together with masking tape from the garage!

And here I sit with my left foot propped up, sentenced to immobilty, cause when I walk the pain is…..well.... not nice.