finger | Life on a Colorado Farm

Terry got the diesel combine fixed…Which is just wonderful! He thought It was the thermostat…he drilled several holes in the old one, made a new gasket and IT WAS! He got a load and headed into town around 2:30, making two loads in one day. I don’t drive the combine or the truck. I could and would drive the truck but that girl is terribly temperamental….Terry says she is a a girl….I don’t know I could apply the same to guys.

He got unloaded and was back at dark! UNHEARD OF!!

If every thing holds together…the corn will be done in 7 more days! I’ve looked at the weather charts and it looks like the weather is going to stay nice for at least that long. Of course it can always change.

Then Tally started draping herself all around the furniture while I was working giving me huge sighs. I asked her if she was bored and she said she was bored and wanted to go to school.

We called her Mom and she said she could come to school (since she wasn’t contagious) which was good. I asked everyone to come to supper last night, so they did. She looked lots better!

My finger is slow. Like most of you have said I will hit in on everything. I do. I wear a finger guard most of the time, but sometimes I take it off and then have to put it back on. The swelling is down so that is good.

Everyone seems to have found the deer so I won’t post where she is. There were two deer there. The one in the hidden pictures was looking at me in the first one, then she was eating.

The other deer was just sitting up on the little hill watching something in the distance.

Aren’t they pretty?

Well, today everything begins again.

I hope everyone is doing well I hope to get around and visit each of you sometime today!

You friend on a Western Colorado Farm,

Linda

Thank each and everyone of you for your good health wishes! I am doing much better today. It was a little rough with a tremendous headache and an accident with my ring finger on my left hand.

The accident happened when I dropped a large chunk of firewood on my finger against some metal. The wood shattered the fingernail in five pieces, broke the nail off, stabbed the broken nail into the bed of the finger (under that nail). The bleeding wouldn’t stop for ever so long. There is no way to clip off the nail to stop the bleeding…just a mess. The next morning the finger had swollen enough that it pushed the nail pieces upward which relieved the bleeding problem.

I was feeling really sorry for myself when Terry and I went to the store to get a finger guard…a huge necessity…but I can’t wear it because the pad is damaged on the other side…just a mess.

I’m stopping here to tell you a story from my past, so I can finish the story from above.

My mother was born in Texas but grew up in Corona, New Mexico (I don’t think there is much there now). When she grew up it was a pretty nice little town, the railroad went through and lots of people came and went.

Before the Great Depression hit and before the Dust Bowl Days descended, when Momma was still very young. She got it in her head she really wanted some white shoes with a strap across the foot that she had seen in a store window when the family went to Roswell on a shopping trip. She wanted those shoes so bad she even dreamed about them…so she took to pestering Gram and Granddad for the shoes. Day and night she asked. She prayed for them at the table anything to ‘get her point across’.

But Gram and Granddad kept explaining there isn’t enough money for something of that nature, you know the story. But she wore them down and got to go back to Roswell to “GET THE SHOES!”

On the way to the store they meet a man on a flat board scooting along, without any legs or feet!

Seeing the man without any feet made her stop and turn to her parents and tell them she didn’t want the shoes and why.

She said she got some really big hugs and they went and had a Coke at the drugstore then came home.

(She told this to me many times …. so I would understand that what you have is really enough.)

Okay…so here I am really feeling sorry about my finger when (at the check stand) we meet a young man who had two of his fingers all bandaged up. In the conversation we find out that he got his hand in hot tar at his work. Even though he quickly peeled the tar off all the skin was burned from his hand and fingers.

My broken and shattered nail and damaged finger tip was nothing to compare! So I told myself to just plow forward it can always be worse.