Monday, October 10, 2016

Miss Birdie iand the Frisky Oreo





Why, honey, how fine to see you! Come right in and get you a chair -- just shove that wheelchair out the way.

Dor'thy said she'd let you know what happened and where I was and I calculated I'd see you afore long. Is them tangerines? Oh my, how good they smell.

No, I weren't at the hospital but a few days before coming to this place and I told Dor'thy not to let anyone come visit till I got to feeling some better. In the hospital seems like they's always someone -- nurses, doctors, aides, and I don't know what all -- popping into the room to pester you about one thing or another and to ask a lot of questions. You'll not believe it but though my name was on the door and though before they give me a pill, they would look right quick at the little wrist bracelet and then they would ask me to tell them my name and birthday for the world as if they hadn't just then read it on the bracelet. 

Birdsong Gentry, 10- 6- 22 - Law, how many times did I say it!  Most as many times as I had to explain how I come to have a broken ankle and my shoulder wrenched plumb out of socket.


You hain't heard the whole of it?

No, it weren't nothing to do with the truck nor was I driving. I wasn't doing nothing more dangerous than walking back down my driveway, looking through the mail--mostly advertisements like always but there was a postcard from Lexter's grandaughter-

I'm bad to lose track of where I was. You want to know what happened. Well, it was along of that new Florida feller's bull-- the one that looks like an Oreo cookie --feeling romantic.  The Florida feller don't have but three heifers, all  three like the bull, solid black with a great white band around their middles. So the bull was happy with those three but oncet they come in season and he had doctored all three, he got restless. 

And Worley Medders had just turned  five open cows and heifers into that pasture on the hill behind my house-- they are a sight on earth, them pretty Jerseys.Worley gets top dollar for them from dairymen. Worley had wanted to hold off on their breeding till he sold his old bull and brought in this fine champion one he has just contracted for-


Well, I'm getting to it. Here I was, walking down my driveway without a thought for anything but for Kimmie's letter and the trouble she is having with her boss who, from what she said, is just a-sniffing round her and making comments about how pretty she is and him a married man. 

Well, I was so deep in that letter and thinking of what I could tell Kimmie, that I didn't pay no mind to the dreadful bawling  Worley's cows had set up. At least not till I heard hooves clip-clopping along the hard road and a great bellowing almost in my ear.

And the next thing I knew I was knocked off my feet and rolling down the slope  into my garden till I fetched up against Bernice's boy's tiller, which he had left there till he had time to till under the last of the garden. I looked up and plague take it if old Oreo hadn't busted through the fence and was getting right familiar with them Jersey cows.

Just about then Dor'thy come along and like to have a fit making sure I weren't killed. She called 911 and while we was waiting for them, I got tickled at what Worley was like to say about old Oreo breeding with those pedigreed milk cows of hisn. 

It tickled my funny bone so that I busted out laughing.

Lord, Miss Birdie, cries Dor'thy, and goes to staring in my eyes and feeling of my head to see was it hurt any. Whatever is there to laugh about?

Honey, says I, you call Worley Medders and tell him he best
get over here and see about them cows.  And ask him does he like milk and cookies.

Well, I had a time convincing her that my wits weren't addled. Dor'thy ain't never been much of a one for funning. But I see you a-grinning.

 Everwhat, here I am laid low by a frisky Oreo. Right now though, I'm looking forward to watching Miss Hillary give that orange feller down-the-road tonight. To think I have lived long enough to vote for a woman for president -- I've already made sure that the folks here can get me to the voting place.



11 comments:

Anvilcloud said...

This is not your ordinary, hum drum mishap. It has style, panache and humour.

But I do feel for ya.

ArnnKnight said...

Vicki--how super to see you are feeling well enough to do a little writin'!! You are on the mend and that makes me so happy. Hope you are home soon and can get some rest --hospitals were never famous for providing the surroundings that allow for a good sleep!

Hope the debate did not set you back a bit. I had to leave at about 45 minutes--could not take the jerk one minute longer. I did record it and hope to watch the last part without more yelling at the TV.

Take care and thanks for the grins...

KarenB said...

You have just improved my morning a thousandfold! Hearing Miss Birdie's voice after that insanity last night is a breath of fresh air, a drink of clean water . . .

I hope you continue to improve quickly.

Barbara Rogers said...

Ah, life is good. You and Miss Birdie have shared your wit again here in blogland. I've gone back to commenting in here, rather than on facebook, because there I'd get all these notifications when others commented too, and it was a bit much. I am happy to see you have so many friends, though. You have touched many more lives than just these. Thanks for being you!

Maiasaura WinterHeart said...

Here is why they make you say your name and check your bracelet and your ID every single time. Because mistakes. They have to do it 3 times/3 ways so that you're for sure verified as being you. I didn't make it through nursing school, but the first time I gave someone an insulin shot as a student, I only checked 2x and I got reamed for it later, not, of course, in earshot of the patient. But now you know why they pester, at least about that. They have to.
Love the spin on your story <3 Yay Miss Birdie!
Get well, Miss Vicki.

Janet Morrison said...

I really enjoyed reading your blog post. I hope Miss Birdie survived last night's debate and that she resisted throwing a shoe through her TV screen. I was tempted to do the same. The orange one is getting on my last nerve.

Jime said...

Good to hear from Ms. Birdie, What Donald needs is Oreo chasing him with lust on his mind then he would know what it feels like. Thanks for Ms Birdie, hope she can visit again soon.

NCmountainwoman said...

My computer has been down so I'm just catching up but I had to comment on this wonderful post. What a great idea for Miss Birdie to get laid low by a frisky bull. Too bad you didn't think of this one before you told us the truth. A frisky bull is ever so much more interesting that a tractor that nearly killed you.

There you are. In rehab and in pain and still making me laugh. thanks

Still sending positive vibes from my side of the mountain.

NCmountainwoman said...

Oops. I meant truck

Thérèse said...

On the mending path that's what counts.
Sending all my best thoughts for the best recovery.

Thérèse said...

On the mending path that's what counts.
Sending all my best thoughts for the best recovery.