Sunday before Thanksgiving was the day that I was forced in to labor.
You have probably guessed that the culprit in this story is my present wife of 46 years. She had previously “allowed” me to bring all the Christmas decorations and affiliated items to the garage. Then she went to work putting the trees and rain dear together.
Her plan, unknown to me, was to get me in a good mood by going to brunch, then returning home and forcing me to help install decorations, without so much as a nap!
If only you knew the cruelty this person is capable of dispensing.
I tried to be positive and upbeat, I even put on my Christmas tie with my blue denim shirt. I then rolled the windows down on my first wife’s vehicle and turned on Christmas music.
The work started. I was required to get a ladder and attempt to install the lights along the roof (icicles). My spouse had disposed of all the previously used icicles lights and purchased new lights. Do you know how hard it is to properly put up the new lights? If you have never been forced into this type labor, you have no idea of the inherent difficulties involved.
The new lights will not unfold properly, in other words they do not hang down as icicles should. Also the old lights were numbered so I knew which one went where. The process took hours and I had to move the ladder many times which meant I had to climb up and down from this ladder.
Retired seniors should not be forced into this type situation.
The sun had gone down and it was getting even colder (45 degrees) as I finished the last string of lights. Well, almost finished, there is about a foot that hasn’t been fastened to the house. That short piece will need a nail and I will also need to attach an electrical cord, so I decided I would attempt that maneuver during the day light hours.
As darkness set in and the cruel cold night descended on The Ford Homestead, I was forced to continue working without a break. I covered the faucets as it was predicted to be a frost during the night hours. I then walked all the way to the back shed and retrieved the big red wagon.
This wagon has served me well, in my many years of forced labors in the yard. I strained my frail and tired body to pull the empty wagon back to the front of the estate, where I made repeated trips moving flowers into the safety of the garage.
What? You want to know how many repeated trips? Let me think, there were two trips with potted plants in the large red wagon.
Finally, I was allowed back in the house, cold and tired I had to fix my own supper, a cup of soup and a sandwich. When I completed the well-deserved but light meal, I was then forced into washing my dish and glass.
Finally, I made my way to the old chair in the corner of the room where I covered my frail body with a hand me down blanket. This old blanket covered my legs but not the rest of my body. It was nice to be able to rest and be somewhat covered with the blanket.
After an hour or so I had enough strength to get out of the chair and make my way to the bed. Tired from the forced labors, my body was hurting. I finally found a somewhat comfortable spot on the bed and I drifted off.
Don’t worry about me, I will probably be ok?
Don Ford
Parts of this most excellent story, may have been exaggerated somewhat.
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