Friday, March 27, 2015

Breathe in, Breathe Out

The burst of color here is so pretty--the shamrock green lawns, the red, pink, and white azaleas, the fragrant lilacs!  I just love to breathe in the wondrous scents of Spring and frolic in the flowers!  Lucky for me, I missed sitting on a fire ant hill!  The fire ants are EVERYWHERE, and we were warned these nasty buggers will cover every inch of your body inflicting bites and stings should you accidently step on their homes.   Believe me, the last thing I want is ants in my pants!
Frolicking in the Blue Bonnets, Texas's Official State Flower
We are all breathing a sigh of relief that the truck is finally repaired.  You may remember from my last post that the ABS work could not be completed on Monday—they ordered an incorrect part.  The correct part would be in on Tuesday.    Well, as sure as Swiss cheese has holes, the part didn’t come in on Tuesday.  You would think International would have called Daddy to let him know this, but Nooooo.  Dad initiated the call himself on Tuesday.    Thankfully, Dad’s phone call on Wednesday brought good news—the part was in, so he trekked back to Houston.  The Service Manager at International was reasonable.  He did not charge Daddy for the part OR labor associated with the ABS system.  Cost for the tie-rod and alignment:  $607.  Between the initial ABS problem in late February, the tires, wheel alignment and bent tie rod, Big Boomer consumed our entire Federal tax refund, plus some.  And I was looking for a slice of that money to buy myself some Cheese Doodles, Cheese Nips, and Cheese and Crackers!  So not fair!

We are having fun here at Rainbow’s End.  We are “regulars” at movie nights, recently attended the Livingston Swing Band performance, and even did a few more line dancing classes.  Dad now attends the Livingston Masonic Lodge meetings.  Mom is back to doing her 4 mile walks, enjoying the countryside and farm animals.  But the treks come with a few road hazards:  Unleashed Chihuahuas.  She’s had her share of dogs bark at her, follow her, and even jump on her as she has walked through the years, but NEVER has she encountered as mean and vicious a bunch as what Mom calls “Mexican rats with hair” (personally, I find her term insulting—likening a sophisticated rat like me to a Chihuahua)!  They come tearing down the street, growling, gritting their teeth, and circling around her.  Needless to say, she no longer walks down that street for fear she will get bit.

Got to go taste test some cookies Mom is baking for movie night!  Talk to you soon!

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