So, I start the day already feeling exhausted for no apparent reason, which means that I’m going to try to keep today’s recount a little short to hit the sack at a decent time for a change.
I’m reasonably in time during the course of the day, hurrying through the morning rituals to keep it that way and then heading down to the house with a bag of laundry in tow.
Quite a bit of conversation keep big brother, grandpa and me occupied, so I’m rather pleased that I had my exercise yesterday. Otherwise my being in time would have definitely run into being out of it once more.
Laundry’s the first thing on today’s schedule, a big load needs to be taken down now that the weather has turned for the better a bit (sunshine, at least) and it has finally dried the overfull lines. The removal creates room for the new batch that I hang immediately afterwards. Folding, of course cannot be left out, creating a multitude of piles that need to be dispersed between the family members and the baskets inside laundry closet so everyone can take their own along as they pass it.
Yadzia’s breakfast comes next–the new anti-inflammatory painkiller appears to be working, he’s actually cheerful today–after which it is my own turn. The talk continues all the way through the morning chores and meal until big brother and I finally settle down behind our computers to start on today’s work.
It doesn’t take long until we both realize that it isn’t working today, and resigning in the matter we put the machines away several hours before dusk and head on up the mountain to resume the disassembling of the car wreck that is still taking up space in the garden.
For the next few hours we’re unscrewing bolts, removing hinges and in end actually resort to using the sledgehammer in order to retrieve manageable parts that will allow us to cart it all off to the junkyard sometime during the next week. We continue until only the bare frame of the car is left, stepping back with some relief–nursing scraped knuckles and sore muscles–to admire today’s work.
Finally we’ve removed enough to be able to roll the car from it’s place on the barely functioning wheels, needing to put our backs into the chore just to get it backed up far enough to attach a firm rope to the back that will allow for the truck to do the heavy pulling in the end.
The wreck is definitely heavier than we expected, and a strong, one and a half inch thick rope connects the two vehicles together while I slowly begin to back up, putting strain on the rope. It pops and groans but the wreck stays in place.
I can see the brothers walk around, trying to see if it’s stuck somewhere, when suddenly little brother starts laughing and points into the car. The handbrake is still on it. Aaargh.
I roll my eyes at them, patiently waiting until they’ve released it and then slowly start backing out of the gate, pulling the wreck steadily along while rope continues to groan and then…suddenly snaps right in the middle. I gasp at the sight of little brother trying to hold the wreck in place by bracing his feet, skidding over the rocky path while big brother lunges inside and jerks the brake back in place.
Laughter echoes over the rumble of the truck’s engine as little brother calls “Well, if it went all the way down we’d be rid of it too.” What can I say, he’s got a twisted sense of humor, hah.
Finally, after knotting the broken part of the rope together again, I reverse the truck until the wreck clears the gate, and step out so we can remove the rope and start pushing the wreck into an unused section of our property until at some point we can have it towed away entirely.
My knee protests severely during the little stunt, but in the end, by the time dusk arrives, we have accomplished what we set out to do. Pleased, we gather our tools and head back inside for dinner, prepared by little sister.
The mac ‘n cheese with veggies go down well after the progress we made with our efforts, and while eating we watch the last rental DVD, which is once again a major disappointment. (It is scheduled for complete removal from my brain, asap that’s a fact. Hah.)
I ice the knee for a while, that itchy burning sensation once again causing some discomfort. Luckily the ice helps, allowing me to get through the evening without painkillers.
There are some sewing repairs that need to be done to some of little brother’s clothes, and I work on them while big brother decides to give the main PC a thorough cleaning. Before I know it the evening has come to an end and it’s time for me to head on back to my cabin.
I know something is wrong the moment I open the front door and see a flash of white. The dogs respond faster than me, of course, and pounce immediately on the poor wild cat that was stupid enough to intrude into their territory. I jump at the sight of the poor feline dashing into the dead end of my bathroom, and wince when I see Sitabah reach her within seconds.
Melee ensues while the other dogs try to join in on the battle of life and death for the wild critter that has been a frequent visitor on our property, but until now always managed to stay out of reach.
Dog after dog I shove forcefully aside, trying to make my way towards the gray Weimaraner, and just barely manage to jerk her back by her tail, giving the cat a momentary reprieve to head out the cabin in a mad dash.
She’s not fast enough however, what with the bloodthirsty pack going in her pursuit and my momentary lapse on keeping a firm hold Sitabah’s tail, the gray is on her before she manages to clear the porch. She has the feline by the hip, it seems, shaking her like mad, the way she would a rat, and it isn’t until I plant a booted, but flat and controlled, foot against her side to send her sprawling that she releases her prey.
The cat is obviously wounded, dashing–for as far as that is possible with her dragging hind paw–down the incline and onto the roof. While I am shouting at the dogs to cease, and keeping Sitabah in place with a firm grip on the scruff of her neck, I can see Dax and Touri go in the feline’s pursuit. I am pleased to see that the two miniature dogs are too cowardly to attempt more than bark at the cat that has taken refuge on top of the courtyard roof, hissing furiously.
Locking Sitabah in the cabin, I call grandpa over house phone, informing him of what occurred and warning him that he should be looking out for the cat in the morning to see what the damage is. I’m guessing it’s pretty bad, so if she makes it through the night we agree that he’ll take her to the vet to have her put out of her misery.
Nature can be a cruel thing that is a fact, but such is the circle of life, I suppose. The cat has been around here long enough to know not to be on the ground when the dogs are free, and thus it paid the consequences with her foolish action. It is regretful but also unavoidable, all things considered.
For the next half hour or so I spend cleaning up the mess the fight caused. The dogs’ water bowl went all over the floor, and before I can start feeding the dogs this needs to be mopped up properly.
And with that the night has come to an end. An eventful day, but it could have ended with a little less excitement in my opinion, hah.
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